Her hair got caught in the sky as she passed; golden strands, brighter than any sun yet softer than any flower. It took me by surprise, the way it framed her cheeks like the most perfect imperfect picture. She was an unfinished painting, spilling out the edges of her canvas. How brightly she shone, a warm joy that hit me like a hurricane. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her despite knowing that the path ahead of me was turning soon and if i didn’t look away, i’d surely run into a tree. I couldn’t shake her smile, slightly crooked on the left side, creating dimples in her sandy complexion. Chestnut and wheat, those were her colours.

I saw her every day on the walking path, but she always took me by surprise. Never in my life had i seen someone as cute as her. Her smile was more precious than gold and sweeter than honey. It fit perfectly on her face, sitting just below her rounded glasses. She blushes, sometimes. When her friends tease her for how she speaks, or, sometimes, when i catch her staring. It’s hard to notice in contrast to her pinecone coloured cheeks, but i notice it.

The mid-spring breeze is warm, and despite that, she still wore her argyle jumper as she walked the path. She seemed to have one for every day of the week; grey for those somber mondays, pink for those perfect saturdays, and, brown for her serious sundays, to name a few. Yellow and green, though, was her favourite. It showed so much love in it’s careful wear and tear. It told stories, it shared memories. Only she could read it, but i know it made her smile.

Her eyes caught mine as she passed and my heart froze. Oh, her eyes. They were the best shade of hazelnut. It was the best shade, simply because it was her shade. They were small and slightly angled, curving up in a permanent smile. It made her feel so pleasant. All i wanted to see was how they looked when she saw something amazing, something awe inspiring. I wanted to see them light up at the annual fireworks festival, to watch them scrunch up with tears - only the good kind, though, shed for that one sad moment in a romcom. I want to see them bloom at her books, too, or, maybe just how they brighten so gleefully when she talks of her passions. Oh how i long to see that.

Opposite to her eyes was her nose; wide and flat, just barely fitting between the lenses of her glasses. It was cute too, just another part to love.

My friends tease me, at times, at how obvious i am. I am not subtle, i can’t be, not when she’s standing right there. Ignoring her would be like ignoring the mona lisa at a museum. It’s an impossibility.

She glances away shyly, only to glance back with a hopeful kind of hesitance. We stare quietly, like a mutual exchange. It’s important, it’s delicate. My heart flutters a little and i almost can’t breathe. Her look, so similar to mine, so knowing, fills me to the brim. We understand one another. It warms her, yet scares me. But it’s a good kind of scared; an excited kind of scared, like the peak before the drop of a rollercoaster.

She slows her pace, so i can cross the path to meet her. I can see her shake her phone a little at me, like an invitation. I’m distracted, only for a second, by the dog phone charm hanging from it. It’s cute, just like her. I look back up to return a smile, lighter than air, and turn to meet her.

And i’m in the pond.

With a splash and a flail, i slip into the drink dividing the two paths. I get a very quick, very cold reminder of the pond’s existence. It’s not deep, maybe just up to my knees, but somehow i managed to drench myself up to my waist. My cheeks burn, thinking i may have missed my chance, when i hear a chime above me. It’s a soft giggle, softer than silk. I glance up, met with the brightness of the sunshine - *her* sunshine. She offers me a hand, smiling with gentle amusement, and as i take it, i feel my whole world complete itself.

#fluff #romance #lesbian #gay #gaypride #lgbt #imgaybtw #cute #college

It was unfamiliar, what Tsubasa woke up to that morning. Soft sheets, warm and inviting. They were unnerving, shifting against his bare legs uncomfortably. He shouldn’t be there.

He knew he should leave, slide out unnoticed and make his way back to his own room, but fear kept him firmly planted. It was nauseating, an anxious feeling prickling in the back of his mind. The start of cravings, of regrets and temporary release. It was possible, maybe, that if he just stayed there, time would stay still. He could stay caught up in the moment, like the night had been before. The sheets could soften, feel more comfortable as he adjusted. He could feel safe, maybe even calm, if his brain let him. Though, that was only a fleeting thought.

He shifted back a bit, eyes closing hesitantly. His hope of peace led him to try and curl back into the bed, test if he could actually stop time. He hoped he could - he so desperately did. He didn’t want to go back, not to grey days and disappointment. Not back to his daughter, so frustrated, so tired. The blankets threatened to swallow him, to wrap him up in a dangerous warmth, but they couldn’t manage. He froze, that bristling anxiety crawling up his spine again. He felt a knee, and then a leg. An arm maybe, too, not quite as extended. They poked at the back of his leg and the lower curve of his spine. He felt them recoil, slowly, as if in quiet offence, before they grew still again.

Tsubasa held his breath, clawed it back down into his lungs fearfully. Strings of prayers raced through his mind, prayers that the man next to him remained asleep. He didn’t want to talk, he couldn’t. He didn’t want to make excuses, explain himself or explain his actions. He didn’t want to explain last night. Though, he could already feel blue eyes on him, locked onto the tenseness in his shoulder blades - or, maybe, hung up on the tremble of his skin.

He didn’t dare shift, fear crawling up his spine like spiders - which, the thought of only made him more unsettled. Silence was all that followed these thoughts, interrupted only by the sound of soft breaths behind him. The quiet was thoughtful, pondering, as if the man behind Tsubasa was trying to figure out if he was awake.

The silence settled, like a film in the room, hung and caught up on tension. Tsubasa didn’t mean for the tension to be there, but thoughts of guilt and unshakable doubts kept it pinned to the air around him. As the silent space grew, he began to hope, or maybe, pray, that the other man had simply gone back to sleep. He dared let a breath slither out, shaky and full of uncertainty - though, it was quickly snatched back down into his throat. Sheets shifted and moved, seeming to scream with every second of movement. Skin slid across fabric, slow, and cautious, edging towards Tsubasa’s quivering frame. There was a gentleness to it, the kind that almost hurt, as if too soft to bear.

Fingers pressed against his skin, just barely touching, as if to make sure it was safe to do so. They started at his back, slow and cautious, like testing water. The feeling let Tsubasa’s nerves melt in ripples, only to be replaced by hard apprehension once more. He felt them slide up his shoulder blade, slowly adding pressure and care with each second of movement. Eventually they reached his shoulder, thumb brushing his neck in a reassuring way. He was sure he’d have felt comforted, if not for the impossible consequences that filled his mind. The sheets shifted again as a body moved behind him, inching closer and closer. Tsubasa felt like a mouse being hunted, just inches away from his attacker.

He shifted forwards on impulse, as if to make a frantic escape, but a soft pressure on his shoulder kept him at bay. The gentleness pulled him back, lulled him into security, into safety. Fingers danced across his neck, warm and inviting, but also apologetic in their movements. Tsubasa was surprised by the feeling, the softness he was so usually ignorant towards.

Heart and mind conflicted, so ready to give into the tender approach, yet so desperate to evade it. He couldn’t do it again, couldn’t betray anyone another time. Each time he told himself not to. Each time he withdrew further and further away. Yet, each time, he rebounded right back into Kade’s arms. For that moment, fingers frozen on Tsubasa’s skin and breathing caught in both throats, he thought. Kade. His friend, his comfort, his only real release anymore. A man he knew so gravely wanted to help, wanted to show love. He’d gone through hoops, above and beyond, yet Tsubasa struggled to accept it, struggled to believe it.

Logically, he knew it was all okay, it was safe to move on, to bury away the thoughts of tombstones and pictures. But his heart ached at the thought, clasping onto any last shred of memory and belonging. He was owned by another, still, even after they were so long and gone. He couldn’t just let that slip through his fingers.

His heart nearly stopped again as he finally recognized the feeling of a hand on his chest. It had snaked its way under his armpit and over his side, drawing him closer and holding on tight. It was only seconds before he felt heat on his back and the pulse of another body. It was so pleasant, he almost sank back into it, let it consume him, body and mind.

A nauseating feeling began to build in the pit of his stomach, slow and almost unnoticeable. It was backed by anxiety, an overwhelming fear brought on by false imaginings. He let out a small sound, the beginnings of words that quickly died in his dry mouth. He tried again, only to be silenced by a word.

“Stay.”

It whispered, echoing and soft, hanging in the air like an entity. He froze, pierced by the calm, unable to pull away. The nausea fell, if only for a second, to be replaced by a fuzzy warmth. He couldn’t help but subdue to it.

Finally, he leaned back, tense, but starting to relax. His body perfectly molded into the other man’s, knee caps over knee caps, hips against hips, one head hidden just under the crook of the other’s neck, tucked away under the chin. It was like a warm blanket. A warm blanket that cared.

A soft breath rattled its way out of him, filled with relief and apology. So many emotions rode on it, filling the air with unspoken words. Kade responded only with his own breathing, nose pressed into the top of Tsubasa’s head. It was soft and rhythmic, as if instructing him how to breathe calmly.

“Just stay,”

It repeated itself, as if to calm Tsubasa’s beating heart. He obliged, sinking back into him further, even daring to touch his hand to the other man’s. He closed his eyes, imagining the soft warmth glowing in Kade’s eyes.

“Okay…” He breathed, shaky, but willing.

The soft beating of Tsubasa’s heart echoed in his ears, like loud drums announcing his anxieties. It slowed quietly, easing into a sense of comfort and warmth as he pressed against the other man. He could hear Kade’s heart beating quietly behind him, slow and steady, like rain pattering on pavement, carried along by his breath. The sound, such a tiny thing, felt so comfortable that it was surreal.

He opened his mouth to speak, to drown out the beats, before he could mold perfectly into Kade’s body. He couldn’t be there, he knew it did nothing but harm. It was a crime, to surrender himself to wholly to another person - a pleasure he was falling guilty to.

Soft sheets slid up over his skin, like clouds covering the sky, hiding it’s far-too-bright flaws. They were sheets of sandpaper to him, rubbing his skin raw and red with guilt. It meant he was caught, that he was allowing himself to accept his situation. He was moving on.

Thunder, a terrifying noise that drowned out all thought. It boomed from his chest, faster than any heartbeat. He didn’t want to to move on, it left too much of an ache in his chest to do so. Static, he wanted to stay static, in his tear flooded room and his tear stained bed. He wanted to stay still, stay with his old rings and dead albums, clutch them desperately. For if he were to move on, he felt he would have to leave him behind - Adrian would remain, six feet stuck under the floorboards of their dead house. He couldn’t leave him behind. He promised.

He twitched forwards, eyes locked on the window, the door, any escape, but a heavy need kept him stuck in place. Gentle love, a craving so intense. He just couldn’t leave that behind, not when it was so close.

“...Kade…” He whispered, glass voice cracking slightly. He wished he could say more, but he had said all he needed.

The sheets landed on his shoulders, tucked around his frame and holding him close. A hand, softer than any mother’s, slid up the back of his scalp, brushing away his locks. He held his breath, expecting the usual sting of anxiety that followed it’s every motion, but it did not come. It came with a new suitor - love. It calmed the seas in his chest, once ravaged by grief.

He held his breath in his throat, fingers gliding through his hair, causing a shiver to go down his spine. Relief. Calm, sweet, relief. It rose up his body like a wave, through his chest and up his throat, threatening to spill out. Salty tears edged along the border of his eyes and for once, he welcomed them. He welcomed the bittersweet, craved its acceptance, its love. It was his love. It was Kade’s.

They streamed down his face, slow and warm like spring rain and just as sweet as a summer peach. He took in a shaky breath, letting the tears fall freely, calmly. Two words, dancing on his lips, teasing his tongue. He finally felt them now, free to be spoken. Two simple words - simple, but full of power.

“I love you…” Came tumbling out, just a breath of a whisper, and out with it, pressed into his hair, came three more words.

“I love you too,”

#shortstory #romance #prose #gay #love

“I’m sure you’ll be a great father, Tsubasa…” Adrian whispered lovingly.

“I’m sure we’ll both be.” Tsubasa whispered back.

----

Two cans. Only two cans sat on the kitchen counter that day, balanced neatly next to the sink. It was less than usual, but the sight of them was still painful for Kade; to see them reminded him of just how deep the hole his best friend had fallen into was. They were more than just cans, more than just alcohol, more than just a way to cope.

“Oh! Is uncle Kade here today, too?” A voice echoed from the front door, just as it clicked closed.

Kade turned his attention away from the cans to the person at the door, giving a soft smile to her as she walked in. “Hey there, Carrot Cake.” He greeted with a wave, his smile warm and inviting, as it always was for her.

“Ah, and here i thought those silly nicknames would stop when i got into year eight of school!” The girl smiled, adjusting her glasses. He watched her as she dropped her bag next to him on the couch and proceeded to walk into the kitchen.

“Never!” Kade exclaimed with a grin, turning his head around to follow her as she walked. He suppressed a small sigh as he watched her clean and recycle the cans, moving like clockwork. He hated it. He hated how she was so used to it now, that her nose no longer wrinkled up at the smell that wafted from the cans, that she could chuck them in the specific bin without even looking at this point. “Sugar spice! Candy cane! Tae-Tae! Tae-Cool! Munchkin! Cinnamon sticks! Muffin top! Sweet pea! Pepe! Banana boat!”

“Taeru works just fine.” She cut him off as she walked back in, reaching into her bag to pull out her phone, and swiped to the texting screen for a second, the screen reflecting on her glasses enough for Kade to just make out a congratulatory text from Aaela.

“Awe, come on, you used to love being called Muffin top!” Kade said as he turned slightly to watch her over the back of the couch.

“Well, maybe that one can stay.” Taeru replied, eyes glued to her screen before she walked over to the bird cage on the other side of the room to feed the small birds that sat there. “Where’s Dad?”

“I was going to ask you the same.” Kade murmured as he adjusted his sleeves, scratchy fabric running along his skin. He stood, grabbing the bag of birdseed off the coffee table, and walked over to hand it to her. “Today is a big day, i would have expected him to be home when you got back.”

“I gave up expecting him years ago.” Taeru sighed, cupping her hands gently to fill them with birdseed, the ends of her lips relaxed downwards in an almost melancholy calm. She stuck her hand into the cage, watching as the three budgies fluttered down to eat from her hand, her eyes glued to their content forms. “I’ll be surprised if he even knows what today is.”

“Oh, i’m sure he knows. He’s probably just… getting groceries.” Kade reasoned, watching the birds with his own quiet nostalgia, face relaxed.

“Or getting more booze. He ran out last night.” Taeru told him, waiting for the birds to finish before she wiped her hands off and shut the cage door. Kade’s brow furrowed slightly, pressing wrinkles into his forehead as he watched her walk back to the couch, slumping down into it heavily. He remained standing, leaning over the back of the couch to talk to her. “I don’t really care where he went, anyways.”

“Taeru…” Kade began, but he looked up as the front door swung open again, knocking Taeru’s cleats into the wall. A wobbly man appeared at the door, carrying a few bags in his hand, one plastic and one paper. His hair hung in his eyes slightly as he stepped inside, matted down gently by melted snow.

Kade felt hopeful at the sight of Taeru’s father, although it sunk back into his chest upon seeing the bottle tops sticking out of the paper bag. More alcohol. The stronger stuff. The man reached his hand up, trembling fingers pushing the damp strands out of his blue eyes.

“Kade?” He questioned, seeming only slightly surprised by him being there, although, his presence had been more than common in the past years. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m helping a tired father carry his groceries in.” Kade replied, walking over and taking the man’s groceries before he even had a chance to argue. He noticed the eye roll from Taeru, but chose to ignore it, carrying the bags to the kitchen quietly. “You preparing for a wild party, Tsubasa?” He commented, reluctantly pushing the large bottles onto the shelf beside the fridge, keeping them wrapped in the bag. He didn’t want to see them.

“Sure, Kade… Sure.” Tsubasa sighed, shedding his coat onto the ottoman by the door. “ A party of one.” His reply was tired and sour, leaving Kade with a bad taste in his mouth. He turned to walk back over, hanging Tsubasa’s coat up for him.

“I didn’t see anything else in those bags, Grahm cracker. Nothing special in the car, or anything?” Kade questioned, glancing over with dwindling hope. He had to have remembered what day it was, it had been on the calendar for weeks. Kade had highlighted it with big red marker and everything.

“Special?” Tsubasa paused and gave Kade a look, a look only Kade knew so well. Anxious and questioning, a desperate hope that Tsubasa hadn’t forgotten something important. Then again, he almost always forgot the important things. “Wh… what do you mean, ‘special’?”

“Tsubasa…” Kade tried his best not to seem to disappointed, although the fall in Tsubasa’s face told him he wasn’t good at hiding it. “It was on the calendar…”

“The calendar? Th-There’s something on the calendar?” Tsubasa turned to speed-walk into the kitchen so he could check the calendar. Kade could visibly see Tsubasa’s heart sink when he landed on the date, eyes closing in guilt. “Fuck…” He breathed, voice shaking with an evident, ashamed tone.

“I told you he would forget!” Taeru called from the couch, keeping her eyes on the little game on her phone. She seemed far from surprised, sighing with light disappointment as Kade turned to give her an apologetic look. “He hasn’t looked at the calendar in weeks!”

Kade simply sighed and shook his head, putting a hand on his forehead. He knew Tsubasa always forgot these things, but a part of him always held some kind of hope for him pulling his shit together. His eyes traveled back over to Tsubasa, feeling a sting in his chest as Tsubasa sighed shakily and gave Taeru a pained little look.

“It’s not that important anyways. It’s not a big deal, i mean, only everyone i know remembered it. It’s not like even people i didn’t know came up to me to congratulate me.” Taeru continued, the sarcasm in her voice biting and hammering Tsubasa’s pain in even further.

“Y-You played your first soccer game today!” Tsubasa exclaimed, walking back into the living room. A small desperation tugged at his voice, as if he hoped he could quickly make up for it. “What happened? Did you win? How did it go?”

“We won. Although, you would have known that if you had been there to actually see. Parents were invited.” Taeru huffed, never turning her eyes away from her screen, and from where Kade was standing, he could see the indignant look in her eyes. “I gave you the invite last week, if you had even cared enough to read it.”

“Taeru…” Kade began to chide her, wanting to diffuse the situation before things got heated. They usually didn’t get more heated than this, but his anxiety in that moment filled him with worry. “He didn’t mean to forget, he was just busy…”

“Busy drowning away in booze no doubt. Fucking drunk.” Taeru grumbled quietly and Kade paused in surprise at her comment, glancing over at Tsubasa. His hands clenched up at the look on Tsubasa’s face, heart broken and distant.

“T-Taeru! I’m not a drunk!” Tsubasa argued weakly, staring over at her with wide eyes, pain spreading on his face.

“If you aren’t a drunk, then my name sure as hell isn’t Taeru.” She huffed back at him, glaring over in a quiet coldness that left Kade with an ache in his chest. He glanced downwards, praying things wouldn’t go much further. “If you aren’t a drunk, then my childhood memories of you wouldn’t be tainted with the scent of alcohol.”

Kade turned his gaze back over to her, conflicted on the situation at hand. He knew Taeru was right, but a part of him couldn’t help but feel some kind of sympathy for Tsubasa, one he would not voice. “Taeru… Listen…”

“No.” Taeru cut him off before he could finish, putting her game down. “I mean, sure, i’ll listen to how my alcoholic father totally isn’t a drunk and how i should totally be forgiving him for all the years of neglect, and, you know, all the years of forgetting the important things. I’ll totally listen to that garbage today.”

“Taeru, he’s been trying!” Kade tried to argue, staring over at her in surprise, feeling bad for the small family. He’d seen what Tsubasa could do on his good days, what he could do when he was just a little less hungover, or just a little less drunk. Unfortunately, he also knew that those days had been fewer and further in between as of recent.

“Oh, i’d like to see him try!” Taeru rolled her eyes, standing up from the couch in an aggressive manner. “You’re just covering for him because you don’t want to admit how bad he is!”

“Taeru! I really am trying! Y-You don’t know how much i do for you!” Tsubasa exclaimed, clenching up his fists slightly, a tidal wave of emotions crashing down on him as he stood there. Kade just watched in a quiet surprise, not having expected the day to turn out this way when he arrived.

“Taeru… T-Tsubasa… Guys, just, calm down...” Kade tried to calm them, holding his hands up and gesturing for them to sit. “We can talk things out-”

“What you do for me?” Taeru gave Tsubasa a disbelieving, annoyed look. “Oh, what things do you do for me? Do you take me to school and back? No. Do you show up to my soccer games? No. Do you keep the house clean and buy groceries? No! How about remember my birthday? Nope! Pay the landlord? Nuh-uh! I do! I do all that stuff! On my own! You’re just a drunk!”

“H-How… how dare you?” Tsubasa clenched up his fists, the pain evident on his face. Kade could already see the tears glistening in his eyes, wrinkles bunching up on his forehead. “Taeru, i do more for you than you think! I-i’m you father!”

“My Father?” Taeru’s fists clenched, glaring at him defiantly. “You’re not my father, you’re a fucking drunk! A sloppy fool who clings to a dead marriage and neglects his daughter! If Adrian could see you now, i’m sure he would leave you! You’re not my father, Uncle Kade is more of a father to me than you are, and he isn’t even blood!”

Kade froze, his eyes widening in shock at the ferocity of her words. He would have said something, but the look on Tsubasa’s face caught his words like lumps in his throat. He stared over at the other man, face broken and torn at the edges, eyes spilling over with pain and emotion. His fists clenched to the point where he drew blood, a little droplet trickling down his palm, gentle and calm compared to the storm crackling in the room. He flinched in surprise as Taeru suddenly bolted, her feet smacking against the wooden floor loudly as she stormed outside, not another word to be said.

“T-Tae-... Taeru!” Kade called after her, casting a pained, apologetic look back at Tsubasa before he dashed after her to the door. He felt the cold wind sting his skin as he stepped out, glancing around to see where Taeru had gone, his heart skipping beats in panic. He paused when he saw her, puffing warm, angry breaths into her hands while she sat in the back seat of his car.

Relief washed over him, but it was quickly replaced by worry for Tsubasa and he turned back inside. “Tsubasa…” He murmured, trying to keep his voice calm and he walked back over to his friend. He let out a shaky sigh, tensing at the defeated look of Tsubasa. His shoulders were slumped forwards, mouth cracked open slightly; whether it was to speak or gasp desperately for air, Kade wasn’t sure. Tears stained his already sickly and pale cheeks, the red from his nails adding some colour to his hands, which Kade quickly reached out and stopped.

“Tsubasa… listen to me,” Kade began, bending down just slightly so he could try and look into Tsubasa’s eyes. He managed to make eye contact, but Tsubasa’s eyes were distant and lost, not registering Kade’s gaze. He opened his mouth to speak again, but jumped in surprise when Tsubasa suddenly shoved him back and dashed away, eyes wild. “Tsubasa!” He called, watching as the other man stumbled out shoeless into the snow, and down the street. He slipped and crashed painfully into the snow before stumbling back up and running again.

Kade watched him run in a panic for a moment before he slid his shoes on and ran after him, slipping in the snow slightly as he moved, white clouds darting past his lips. His legs were longer than Tsubasa’s, and with all the alcohol poisoning his system, Tsubasa’s body was quite weak, so Kade caught up to him easily. He raced after him, fingers reaching out desperately before he grabbed his shoulder firmly. He pulled him back, turning him around in the snow and pulling him close.

Tsubasa let out a cracked cry of surprise and struggle, gripping his shirt and attempting to push him away. His arms bent and shook, and Kade felt him fall into his chest and break down, sobbing pitifully into his shirt. Kade sighed and stroked his back gently, staring down with a certain pain shining in his eyes. He let him cry for a moment before gently pulling him back towards the house, and leading him inside. He was wet and shivery, snow speckling his matted black hair. He sniffled and mumbled incomprehensible words as Kade gently guided him to his room, directing him to strip and slide under the covers. He pulled the blankets up to his chin, softly patting his shoulder.

“Rest.” He murmured gently, wiping away a few stray tears from his cheeks, before he moved to leave the room once more, door gently closing behind him. He reached up and ran his hands through his fluffy brown hair with a stressed sigh, thinking about what he could possibly say to Taeru.

He took in a breath, walking back to the still wide open door, cold air spilling in to cool the heat of room. He stepped outside, staring through the back window of his car at the small teenager, who crossed her arms indignantly where she sat. The cold hadn’t cooled the heat of her rage, it seemed.

With long, stalling strides, Kade trudged through the snow to the black car, glistening with recently melted flakes. He opened the door, sliding in next to Taeru, and sat down next to her in silence. He glanced over, mulling over different openers to what he wanted to tell her.

She squirmed next to him, her anger subsiding with the slowing snowfall, slowly replaced with a melancholy as great as the silence that filled the car. Her blue eyes rimmed with tears that she dared not let fall. She was stronger than that; or maybe her refusal made her weaker. Kade couldn’t tell which.

“I hate it too, you know.” He began, words slow, and honest. “I hate the cans. I hate the smell. I hate the predictability… I hate the struggle.” He could see her body heave with an inaudible sigh, crossing her arms over her stomach as if she felt sick. “You may not be able to see it, how hard he tries to stop. He really tries. I’ve seen him on his good days; you’ve seen him on his good days. Those days when he brings home some cookies from the store, or sits and watches a movie with you. Those days when he listens to your stories with open ears, or he takes you down to the ice cream place down the block. Those days he tries.”

Taeru sat quietly as Kade spoke, arms still crossed with a certain stubbornness. Her eyes remained pointed downwards at her soggy shoes, wet from quickly melted snow. Her gaze lingered, caught up in thoughts and memories long forgotten and pushed aside. Kade let her sit, as patient and calm as he ever was.

Outside, wind rattled the car doors, bold and sharp as it smacked snow against the windows. It left things eerie and tense as Kade waited for Taeru to speak, his own words teetering on baited breath. Taeru did not speak, not a word. All there was for a few unending minutes was the white noise of the wind.

Finally, Taeru opened her mouth to speak, words hesitant and pulled, as if she was still formulating thoughts as she spoke.

“I-... I just want him back…” She whispered, voice cracking just slightly at the end of her sentence. She held her arms tighter against her stomach, slipping in a shaky breath to calm herself. No tears would fall, even if it sounded like they would; Kade knew that. Taeru was stubborn, prideful and thick-skinned. Not even this could draw her tears out, and for a moment, Kade was almost thankful.

“We all do…” Kade began softly, looking out at the flurry of snow on the other side of the window. “I wish for that every time I time i see him… with every trip to the hospital, with every bag of liquor,” He sighed lightly, a small pain in his voice as he remembered how his friend used to be.

“He used to be so alive,” Taeru murmured, her body relaxing into the long worn out car seat, seeming to be calm now. “Not just when I was a kid. I… I know that. He wasn’t great when I was a kid… i was naive. Foolish. Protected from the reality of how bad he was, even back then.”

Kade watched as she turned to stare back out at the old house, once bright and alive with colour, but now as bland as dirty concrete. The broken daycare sign, the weeks old trash bags, the boarded up windows; Kade couldn’t remember the last time he saw Tsubasa’s daycare open.

“I’ve seen the albums… Aunt Aaela showed them to me. When she was showing me Adrian…” Taeru continued softly. The sadness in her voice was mellow, dulled to time and age. “They were so in love, uncle Kade. They were so bright… so happy… I’ve never seen dad that happy in my life, not like he was with Adrian.”

“He loved that man more than anything in the world. They were like a couple in a movie; i could never believe it myself.”

Taeru nodded slowly, closing her eyes. “I can almost imagine it… Dad smells like cologne, not alcohol, a smile as wide as the sky on his face as he laughs with his husband. The house is light, filled with laughter and childish giggles. They hold each other close, sharing butterfly kisses and dancing to no music. The perfect happy couple…”

A nostalgic look crossed Kade’s face, thinking back to the time when Taeru’s fathers were actually happy. It felt like a dream, it had been so long.

“That’s exactly how it was…”

“Now it’s like we have a damn grave in the middle of our house,” Taeru muttered, a slightly harsh tone to her voice “But… but I still love him. He’s still my father! I just want to live with him! I want us to be happy! I want him to be happy!” She exclaimed, face scrunching up in frustration, pushing wrinkles into her forehead. “Happy with me…”

Kade gave her a sad look, reaching a tentative hand out to touch her shoulder. He hoped he’d be of some sort of comfort, even when they were drowning in tension. Her shoulders slackened and she leaned into his touch, body shaking with emotions.

“Listen, Taeru… your father… he’s hurting. He’s hurting so damn much. I can’t imagine what he’s going through with this, with you, with Adrian…” Kade began, voice steady and soft. “He just needs to heal, to come to terms with what happened - with what’s already happening. But he can’t do it alone, not this time.”

“But he has you! Isn’t… can’t that be enough?” Taeru asked desperately, turning to Kade with sad eyes. “How can he change- how can he be any better when even you can’t heal him? You’re his best friend! You’ve known him for years!”

“I am helping, Taeru, I am.” Kade’s eyes were sad and quiet, staring into her blue eyes with his own icy ones. “I’m keeping him afloat... I’m keeping him alive. But Taeru, I can’t heal him on my own. I’m not his family, i’m not as special as Adrian… but you- you are. He needs you.”

“What can I do? I don’t know how to help him! It’s so much- it’s too much!” Taeru exclaimed, seeming slightly overwhelmed by her cocktail of emotions. “I don’t know where to start!”

“You’re not alone, Taeru… i’m here, i’ll help you. We’ll both help him.”

“B-but…”

“You’re a teenager… so new to the world, so bright. You won’t always know what to do, what to say, but you’ll learn. You can help him; you can heal him. He’ll change, he’ll go back to the better. For you. Because he loves you.”

Taeru stared at Kade, eyes wide and wet, searching for any kind of hesitation in his gaze - any lies. She took in one more deep breath, wrapping her arms around herself again as the cold of the car finally got to her. “I can help him… i can… I will help him.” She whispered, thought more to herself, as if it was her mantra. “I’m not alone… i’m never alone.”

Kade smiled encouragingly, rubbing her shoulder softly. “That’s my Muffin Top.” He whispered, moving to get out of the car with her. He wrapped his jacket around her shoulders as they trudged back into the house, thankful for it’s warmth and silence. It was calm, and gentle, like the rainbow after a storm. Kade knew it was still an uphill battle from here on, but for that moment, he felt positive.

He watched as Taeru stopped in front of her father’s door, hesitant and deep in thought. Kade joined her at her side, eyes filled with support and comfort. “I’ll be right here with you…”

Taeru nodded slowly, inhaling deeply, and stepped into the room with confidence.

“Dad... can we talk?,”

And the door shut behind her.

Kade feels his hair stand on end every time the monitor spikes. It jolts up, his heart rate following as his hands grip the railing in front of the viewing window, as if they’d been fused together. He watches, eyes frantic as the doctors try to calm the violent palpitations of his husband’s heart. He doesn’t register the blood anymore, just the beeps and the sounds of the doctors hushed voices that follow. He teeters on the edge the whole time, feeling like he might faint or sob or both if the doctors don’t get things under control soon.

They had made it so far, through so much. For it to end now would just be far too tragic. No, wait. Not tragic. Tragedy is graceful. It holds beauty in it’s heart-wrenching embrace, carries a message on it’s life-stealing breath. This, this could only be described as a catastrophe. One that pulls apart trembling breaths and stains empty bed sheets with ugly tears. It doesn’t steal your breath away in a whisper, but punches you hard in the gut with a cry that could shatter glass. That’s what this could be. But Kade wouldn’t allow that. No, his husband was going to live. His husband was going to live and he would take him out to the nice restaurant down the block, the kind they always love to go to. They’ll cuddle in bed and share tender kisses, the kind that made him melt before the chemo chapped his lips. He’ll feel Nic’s legs tangle around his as they fight off sleep for a few extra minutes of listening to each others breathing and slide his hands across his husband’s sides before he leaves for work the next morning. They’ll have that again. He has to believe they will.

He looks up at the sound of the receding beeping, knees almost buckling as the tension ebbs from his legs at the sight of the relieved doctor’s faces. They were still working, things weren’t done, but his husband lay calm once more under the anesthesia. He felt a soft hand stroke up his back, from the middle of his spine to the ridge of his shoulder. It’s soothing and pulls him back to the brightness of the hospital hallway overlooking the operating room. He spares barely one glance to Mian next to him, her eyes tender and grounding. He keeps his attention on his husband’s surgery. Mian keeps her attention on Kade’s facial expression. Their priorities differ on the important person in the room; the one who might not live and the person who wouldn’t bare to stay alive if the other didn’t. He takes a breath and lets it out. Takes another, holds it, refocuses, and lets it out again. He relaxes, unclenches his muscles, and fixates on the monitor once more.

Three beeps. The doctors seem relieved, working quickly. Two beeps. The doctors seem pleased. Kade can tell the surgery is almost done. Three beeps. His hope is growing, like a balloon, threatening to pop. Two beeps. Something is wrong. The doctor’s face is scrunching up. Two beeps. There’s yelling and rushing. Kade can’t make out what they say, he’s too focused on the beeps to pay attention to the muted voices. One beep. It’s sickening at this point. There should be more beeps at a time. More beeps do not come. The doctors are frantic. He remains focused on the beeps, he knows they will rise. Mian’s hand tenses on his back, no longer soft, and tells him she is more focused on the blood than the beeps. He knows he should look, but the beeping is all that keeps him grounded. He listens harder.

One beep. He grips the railing.

One beep. He denies that this is really happening.

One beep. There is more blood than he anticipated.

One beep. The doctors have stopped moving.

One beep. There’s nothing he can do.

One beep. He lets go of the railing.

One beep. He lets go of Mian.

One beep. He lets go of life.

No beeps.

There is only flatline.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Take each breath in tune with the sunlight, the stuff that filters in on strands and wisps in the air. The gold and fair colours that slip in, past the still dew-damp branches of the coniferous trees that stretch desperately higher than the hospital roof, as if racing to the sun. My hands are held out against the grain of the wind, fingertips tickled by rain, invisible in the first morning sunlight. The light dancing in my palms would hardly seem real, if it wasn’t for the warmth in my skin, the warmth of the sun’s sweet embrace. I would hug it back, if it were not so far away. My legs itch and long with a certain hiraeth, wishing to step forwards, if not only just a few feet. A few feet forwards, to where the guardrail stands, cold and stiff in contrast to the few sun-strands touching the roof. I would obey, if not for the risk of dampening my hospital gown in the morning rain. For now, the safety of the doorway awning is close enough.

Rust-tinged threads slide along my cheek, pushed into their dancing motions by the wind. They wanted to be included, i suppose, and lept from atop my head to join in the morning surreality. I push them back, combed nicely behind my ear. I shouldn’t be up here, with the wind and sun and rain. Simply standing by the door alone is a risk, for someone like me. The dampness, clinging to the air as it does, is bad for my lungs. An invader, it is; It does all but benefit me now. Though, now, i suppose, it doesn’t matter.

Twenty nine. Twenty nine point five eight percent, to be exact. A survival rate. A ticking time bomb. That’s what it is, that’s what it’s made me. A number on a chart, lasting out futily until the number dwindles down to a pathetic zero. Pull the plug, swath my face in delicate linen, gentle, respectable, a courtesy; then roll me in the fire. Up in flames, the coals will burn, burn, until the ashes are left to glow alone, like sunlight filtering through the trees. The choices i make now matter less than that of a child, unable to decide their shoe colour. Either way, i’ll end up in a parlour. Not as a guest, but as the main attraction of a solemn event.

I finally take a step out, towards the height, the peak of the drop. I’m Face to face with pine branches, like hands eagerly beckoning me closer, towards prickly hugs coupled with growing sunlight. I brace the bars, the long-rusted steel, polished in a way that pretends to look well-dressed. I replace my warm sun hugs with cold, and chill. I choose that. I can choose that, at least. My choices won’t affect anything, though. The result will always be the same; whether it’s now or later, my destination is the same. I could go now, fail to be Peter Pan in the fresh morning air. Drift to the bottom like a swallow feather, graceful, fragile, and settle on the pavement below. My home, it could be, until the sirens take me away. No more Bea.

Poor thing, They’ll say. I feel bad for her, They’ll say. Fools they’ll be. I’ll be free.

Should i, shouldn’t i? Would i, could i? Can i even bring myself to follow through? I don’t know. I don’t know anything. The feeling of the concrete against my head as i hit, the feeling of wind under my arms, adrenaline pumping in my veins. I don’t know. It’ll be better than the stiff bed, i’d assume. Better than the drip drip drip, into my veins. Better than the good morning, i have your results. Quick, done for and over. I want that, so I close my eyes.

I fall, and i fall quick. I feel like a bird, air whizzing by. It doesn’t have a care in the world, it does what it wants, goes where it wants. I feel almost jealous. The tops of the trees shrink ever faster, further and further from my reach, further and further from the warm sun. I hold my breath, i know I’m close to the release, close to the freedom. I can hear them screaming now. Someone wants to catch me, wants to try. I close i my eyes, relax, accept my fate and-

A hand on my shoulder shakes me back. Back to the railing. Back to the roof. I’m teetering dangerously close, my nose tip-touching the pine branches. I turn, calm, disappointed, and light-headed. Isi. He’s Here to stop me. I prepare for a chiding, my hands quivering at my sides. Though, i suppose, it’s not because of him. My eyes meet his, separated by only his rain speckled glasses. Sympathy. That i recognize in his eyes, though only as another form of pity i don’t want. I stare longer, as he says so many things with absolutely no words, plagued by silence. Understanding. That’s there too. It’s new to me. It catches me off guard, and makes me take a step back, to which he responds to with a firmer grip.

I want to speak, but don’t at the same time, letting the silence fill in for me. I already spoke earlier. We both did. And we spoke loud. We grit teeth and clenched fists, and shook the whole building to it’s core. So much was said, but i feel like we said nothing at all under all the yelling. I should apologize, i know that. It’s on the tip of my tongue, stuck there like a cat, but i can’t get it out. Before i can, Isi beats me to it, with a hug. It’s soft. It’s desperate. He’s pleading, apologizing without words, but also begging me. Don’t jump. It’s all i hear, all i feel in his arms. I hug him back, a gentle reassurance. We stand there, apologizing with our touch for more than enough time. We’re both too sappy to let go.

He does pull away, eventually, but reluctantly. He takes my hand, though, soft and comforting. He pulls me back towards the stairs, back to the battlefield. He can feel me shaking, i’m sure. Shaking with a fear unknown to me, but all too familiar to him. He urges me anyways, back through the door, back down the stairs. He is with the whole time, and i can’t help but feel thankful. I suppose it’s worth it. The fight, i mean. Twenty nine point five eight percent. I’ll make it work. I’ll take that bet. For Isi, and for myself, i’ll make that work.

I breathe in. I breathe out. I take each breath in tune with each step forwards. If i keep breathing, i’ll keep moving. And i intend to move far.

Smoke. Intoxicating, suffocating, a killer wrapped in paper. It’s a metaphorical noose, death playing the long game to get it’s prize. It does more harm than good, shapeless and formless, and in a way, not totally lifeless. One day, it will kill you. How many times have I heard that?

“Do you want to die? How many more attacks do you need to get, before you’re rattled enough to stop?”

“You’re going to kill me with this stress! Is that what you want?”

“Why put a warning on the package, if people like you just ignore it?”

“Why do i even bother with you?”

“I hate you!!”

“Those things will kill you. Kill you dead. At this point though, i might prefer that.”

Mother…

Mother. Hold me. Call me your boy, your son, your sunshine. What i’d give for your love again. Wrap me in fresh clothes, warm still from the dryer. Spoil me, love me, give me everything you never had. I want that. That sunflower field back home, a fantasy more than a memory. A sunhat in a garden, a warm stew, a memorable radio song, a fresh bruise. You are all those things to me. All that and more than anyone will know.

Blotted out by smoke, my memories are much less than fond of her. Calling her my mother, is an overstatement. I remember her in bruises; in scars and hospital bills. In my bum leg, most of all, kicked in at the kneecap. How did it come down to that?

I pull out of my thoughts for a second, to the crisp and dark. To moonlight blotted out by strangling smoke. I take a deep breath in, calming my nerves for a fleeting second before the coughing sets in. 30 seconds, deep and painful. They heave my chest and sting my throat, painful to the point of unfortunate familiarity. They end soon enough, and leave me to the soothe of the cool evening air. I lean against the railing, tapping embers off on the metal. A pile has collected on the ground by my feet, old and staining on the wood board. All i do is add to it, whenever i’m out here. Too often, i’d say, that pile grows. It’s like clockwork, every night, for one reason or another.

1 month ago, started by a pink slip. A week ago, embarrassment in the park. Yesterday, simply the lack of food in the fridge. Most of the time, it’s just restlessness. On those normal days, it’s just one, just until the moon hits the tips of the trees on it’s way up. On bad days, a whole pack. Tonight, it’s nightmares. Paralyzing, all too real, monster-like nightmares. Memories that leave me tossing and turning in the night, that lead to a towel on the sheets, for the sweat. Night-memories of anxiety, and pain, and too familiar darkness, brought on by closed cellar doors. 2 packs tonight. I already finished 1, but the shake in my hands lead me to pull out more than necessary.

I watch the smoke rise into blue, the deep essence of the night. A blue so deep, it hides the smoke from my eyes as it rises higher. I grumble at a thought, and turn my eyes down. Jealousy, perhaps, or maybe more a form of envy. To escape. Escape from what, i’m not sure. Possibly just from myself. Escape from my shitty habits, and my shitty head, and my shitty leg. Maybe it’s just that i’m tired.

I find it hard to sleep on such a soft bed. It’s too comfortable, too kind, too warm. Starch sheets and springboard mattresses bring the most comfort. Probably a comfort drawn by innocence. Before bruises and shouting. Before smoke. Before, when sunflower fields weren’t a world away. Longing, wanting, a pit in my chest so heavy it hurts. The more i think about that field, the more it grows. Larger, heavier, until it drags my heart to the depths. What will kill me first? The smoke, or the depths? Or will it simply be my own hand that takes me first?

I pause at a warmth, unexpected and soft. Hands glide across my shoulders, brushing the sides of my neck with gentle thumbs, until they reach my front. Slow fingers ease the cigarette from my lips and douse it in the ash tray. I don’t resist. I don’t even complain. I’m too focused on the warmth. He knows. He always knows. It’s like he has a sixth sense, just for “Leo-mares”, as he calls them.

Micah’s palms press against my collarbone, pulling me back, away from the railing. I worry about support, but he has me, just as the railing did. I let out a soft sigh, opening my mouth to speak. I want to explain, apologize, get something out. But i choke on words like i choke on smoke, unable to breathe and dizzy. Only small breaths or sounds leave my throat, beginnings of words that don’t make it out. I’m nervous. He can tell.

“Shhh,”

His voice is as gentle as his hands, and i relax, a little. I ease into him a bit, let myself lean back. I tremble slightly, eyes darting to the ash pile on the floor. I stare, quietly, as if somehow focusing on something will keep me calm.

“Come to bed,”

He whispers that into my shoulder blades, tired face pressed into my shirt as he tries to stay awake. My skin prickles with guilt, knowing i woke him, worried him, bothered him. Each pin prick makes me feel worse. I wish i was alone with my cigarettes, again.

He pulls me back a bit, leading me inside and out of the cold air. I almost hear the wind breathe a goodbye, but the door is closed before i can hear it. I expect Micah to drag me to bed, lay me down in silence for a minute before tells me to apologize. He won’t shout, but i’ll wish he would. I’ll brace for hits, hide my head under my hands, and stay silent to lessen his anger. If he tires quickly, he’ll sleep quickly, and i can treat the wounds quicker. If things get fatal, the window is always an option-

My well crafted battle plan is interrupted by a hand on my cheek, soft and protective. It pulls me back, back to the bedroom. My eyes fly open only to be met with Micah’s gentle, squishy face and bright blue hair. His eyeshadow is smudged on one side, smeared across his eye and temple, as if he slept with it on. Under it, though, is reassurance. Only reassurance. It’s soothing.

Only now do i notice how quickly i was breathing. Micah seems afraid i might hyperventilate.

“I’m not her.” He whispers, voice gentle, thumb brushing over my bottom lip. “You’re safe, love,”

I slow myself, breaths shaky as he strokes my cheek. He’s right. He’s not her, he’s not in my nightmares. Not now, not ever. I give a desperate look, vulnerable, and rare. I hardly ever show it to him so freely, but tonight, i feel i need him.

“Micah…” My voice is barely a whisper, barely a breath out of my lips. “Please…”

He nods, understanding so much from so few words, and takes my hands. I feel almost breathless at how gentle he is, amazed every time. He only is at night, though that’s enough for me. In the day, his bluntness is almost as refreshing as his softness is at night.

He leads me to bed, pulls me under thick wool covers, and pulls my head down to his chest. Beating drums play under his skin, rhythmic and soothing. I close my eyes, fingers running through my hair in time with the beats. Warm, soft, soothing, that’s what he is to me. My memories of *him* are clear as day, filtered through my smoke-messed head.

I fear for more nightmares, as sleep takes my eyes once more, but his sleepy-time breathing reassures me of my safety, long until and after i drift away. He waits for me, eyes never closing before mine, breaths never slowing before mine.

I wish i could say i never smoked in my life, i wish i could say i can quit. Even if i did quit, throw the cig away and never turn back, i think i’d still be an addict. An addict to Micah, my crutch, my smoke. Micah, my only comfort, my only good dreams.

Ira stared up at the cold, looming building, shivering almost nervously in its presence. They didn’t want to have to leave the car, but they quickly got out as soon as they saw Phoenix walking up to the building. Their short brown hair ruffled slightly in the breeze, amplifying the cold feeling the building gave off, and causing the short person to shrink slightly as they followed their husband. They looked around cautiously, reading the half-fallen metal sign that hung on the gate.

WATERTON MENTAL ASYLUM

Just the thought of what this place used to be sent fearful shivers down Ira’s back, hunched up and tense.

“A-are you sure this is a g-good idea Phoen?” Ira stammered, hurrying after their vitiligo lover, small hand reaching out to take their sleeve in their hand, fingers trembling. The structure looked old and long abandoned, small chunks of it occasionally falling to the ground. “I-it l-looks like it could collapse at any minute!” They whimpered slightly, flinching as the sound of something falling echoed from inside and interrupted their speech.

“Oh, Ira, I’m sure it’s fine! I’ll be careful when I go inside; besides, this article isn’t going to write itself!” Phoenix reassured them, putting a hand on their shoulder, as if to comfort their smaller partner. They gazed at Ira softly, brown eyes comforting on the other side of their thick rimmed glasses. “But just in case, don’t come in with me, okay? If this place does fall apart, I wouldn’t want you inside, little buddy.”

“We wouldn’t want you inside either!” Jade called as she stepped out of her car, which had only just pulled up beside Phoenix and Ira’s. She pushed a lock of her overly-curled, ginger hair out of her face and walked towards them. “Seriously, Phoenix, do you think this is a good idea?”

Ira nodded in agreement, seeming cautious and afraid of Phoenix going inside, especially alone. However, they knew Phoenix was stubborn and there was no way of getting out of it now that they were there. Reporting was in Phoenix’s blood and they would risk life and limb to get a story; Ira didn’t even want to think about the avalanche incident Phoenix’s curiosity had caused a few months back.

“I’m positive! I’m just going in to take a few notes while Ira photographs the building!” Phoenix dismissed, waving their pencil at them. “I’ll be in and out in a few minutes.” They promised before taking their hand away from Ira and making their way inside the building, their pastel purple hair contrasting with not only their black skin, but also the dingy gray building. The much taller reporter looked almost like a giddy kid in a candy shop; an abandoned asylum like this was a field day for them. They checked the ground with their foot and gazed at the dilapidated ceiling before giving a thumbs up to the others and disappearing inside.

Ira waited on baited breath outside, not even daring to take a picture as if they thought just the flash alone would cause the building to collapse. They simply gripped their camera tight in their sweaty hands, glancing at Jade occasionally before looking back at the building. When they heard a couple rocks fall somewhere inside the building they flinched into immediate panic.

“I’m okay!” Phoenix suddenly called from inside and Ira let out a shaky, yet relieved breath. At least Phoenix hadn’t gotten hurt.

They felt a little more relaxed as time went on, deciding to actually move closer and do their job. They walked up to one corner of the building, peeking their head inside what they assume had been a door at one point and set up to take a picture of the inside. Flash! The camera snapped a picture, a little blurry. Flash! Flash! The camera took a couple more, better this time.

Crash!

A loud noise stopped Ira from pressing the button a third time, looking up at the loud, catastrophic noise. They watched as pillars suddenly popped, shooting pieces of rock out into the air, the destruction slow at first, making the building rumble under the loss of its supports.

“Ira! Get back!!” Ira suddenly heard Jade call just as the building began to give way to dust and destruction. Rocks fell from the ceiling and walls cracked into pieces. Ira barely had enough time to think before Jade snagged their arm and violently pulled them back, shielding them from the debris as the building came down. Rock spewed everywhere, slicing Ira’s arm and knocking their glasses to the ground. Everything shook and Ira could swear the ground actually moved when the upper floor of the building finally crashed to the ground in a heap of concrete and stinging dust. Ira’s ears rang from the crash and from just the shockwave alone they could barely move their legs. “PHOENIX!!” They practically screamed into the chaos, voice drowned out as a few other abandoned buildings next to the first collapsed as well, adding to the terrible wreckage.

It had only lasted second, but the damage was indescribable; Ira could hardly breathe from it. It took a second but they finally willed themselves to stand, mind a wild mess of panic and absolute fear as they turned and stumbled towards the blurry pile of rubble. Without their glasses they couldn’t see anything, tripping over chunks of building and falling onto their face. Still, they kept moving. They kept moving and moving even when they ended up having to crawl through the remains of the building. “Phoenix! Phoenix!!” They cried out, like a child who had just lost their mother, voice shrill and edged with terror. They feared the worst, but hoped, prayed, that the other person was okay.

They crawled forwards, cutting their hands on rocks and reaching out to locate their lover, choking on the dust that had yet to settle. Suddenly, their hand slipped out from under them, something sticky and warm coating their hands. They froze, the smallest little gasp escaping their lips. They didn’t know what it was, they had never felt it before, but in the back of their mind, somehow, they knew. They lifted their hand to stare down at the steamy liquid, unable to make out any shapes but they did make out the colour. Red. A bright, oozing red that drew bile in Ira’s throat.

“Ph-phoe….” They stuttered shakily, voice barely audible as they reached forwards to feel around, fabric eventually meeting their hand. It was coarse and thick, a large fluffy jacket that Ira recognized all too well. Phoenix’s puffy jacket that had kept Ira warm and safe many times before; the precious jacket that never failed to calm them. Now all it brought was a heavy dread, like a punch to the stomach.

“Oh m-my f-fucking god…” Jade’s voice sounded behind Ira, broken and shocked at something Ira couldn’t quite see. Ira noticed their glasses in her hands and quickly fumbled for them, although they weren’t sure they wanted to see. They put them on and what was once hidden in fog as now clear to them; Phoenix’s body, mutilated and trapped under sharp rocks and rubble, twisted and limp like a ragdoll. Blood dripped down their arm into the large puddle on the ground, face not even visible under the chunks of building.

Ira almost immediately felt the air leave their lungs, eyes wide and filled with tears, voice caught like a lump in their throat. It was unnoticeable at first, the pain on their face, masked completely by shock until slowly, their face contorted into agony. Tears streamed down their face, hot and steamy and a horrible wail escaped their lips. It felt like they had been torn in two, like their very heart had been pulled up out of their throat. But it only lasted a minute. Only a minute before Ira suddenly stopped, collapsing into the dust.

They were motionless, as if their body had stopped working, before they shot up again. Surprise contorted their face along with confusion as they stare at the gore before them. “Eugh!” They suddenly shot up and took a few steps away. “What the fucking hell happened?!” They demanded, tone demanding and off. It was as If it wasn’t even Ira at all.

“Wh-what are you…?” Jade stared at them in surprise, hands trembling as she tore her eyes away from the scene. “Ira… what are you t-talking about?”

“Ira? I’m not…” They stared over at her, baffled and a little taken aback. “You’re that woman that works with Ira’s lover guy, right?”

“Wait…K-kelly?” Jade seemed shocked; She had known about Ira’s split personality disorder; Phoenix had told her about it a few times before. It had caused plenty of problems for them in the past before, but Kelly only came out in Ira’s sleep. They shouldn’t have been there. “Wh-where’s Ira? Where the hell did they go?”

Kelly stared at her for a second, looking into themselves in an attempt to feel their other person, the small and innocent child of a person. But they did not find them there, they only found agony and emptiness. All there was was silence, soulless and eerie. It was like Ira had just… died.

“They’re…. They’re gone…”

42 Messages.

23 Missed calls.

5 New voice mails.

Kade read the notifications drowsily, eyes squinted at the brightness emanating off the screen. He lifted himself into a sitting position on the bed, wondering who on earth could have been trying to contact him at three in the morning.

He felt his lover shift beside him, face pressed gently into his thigh, as if tiredly asking why he had moved. Kade reached a soft hand down, pushing a few stray locks out of the other man’s face affectionately before he turned back to the matter at hand. He guessed it was probably just Mian trying to contact him about some drunken late night thought. She had gone through many bottles of vodka that evening at the party, after all.

He swiped the screen open, immediately opening the texts first, as they were in larger quantity. To his surprise, he saw his friend’s name at the top of the screen, someone he hadn’t expected to be trying to get a hold of him so early in the morning. He glanced through the old messages, lighthearted and happy, and paused at the change of tone the new messages took.

“Kade”

“Help”

“Help help help”

“Help”

“Help”

“Help”

“Help”

“Help”

The messages continued, seeming to only consist of that single word, although the spelling worsened the further down he got. He felt worry stir in him and sent a message of acknowledgement back before flipping to the calls. They were also from Tsubasa, from an hour ago, in fact, all within seconds of each other. He opened the voicemails left attached to the last few calls, but could not make out what was said in them. There was heavy breaths and sobbing, some words managing to come through the line, but none of them comprehensible.

He felt worry pluck at his brain and he quickly shuffled out from under the covers and into the cool air of the room. It sent a shiver down his spine, but he placed his feet on the cool hardwood floor anyways and moved to get dressed. He glanced back at his partner in the bed, as if worried he might wake up and question him or get lonely, but the other man had simply curled around Kade’s pillow as a replacement cuddle-buddy.

Kade pulled his pants on, watching his partner for a few moments while he wondered what could have happened to Tsubasa. He knew he had been a little more secluded as of recent, but had figured he had just been busy with the daycare. Although, knowing what had happened to him and his lover in the past, he wouldn’t be surprised if something had happened.

Kade grabbed his jacket on the way out the door, not wanting to waste time as he rushed down to his car out on the front lawn. He pulled out his phone as he got in, pressing the phone between his ear and shoulder. As he made his way to his friend’s home, his mind raced with what could have happened, sending a wave of anxiety through his body. It caused his stomach to flip and his mouth to dry up, hands twitching nervously along the steering wheel.

When he finally arrived, he was surprised to see no signs of Tsubasa even being home. No tiny red car in the driveway, no lights on in the upper loft of their home, and of course no lights in the daycare below. He knocked on the door, praying the car was just in for work or something and Tsubasa was actually home.

No response. They must be asleep He thought.

He knocked again. Still no response.

He tried the window, moving to the bedroom window and peer inside past the dusty blinds that Tsubasa never seemed to bother to open. Nothing. The bed was a mess and the door wide open. Tsubasa never kept the door open at night.

Kade felt his worry increase, hurrying back to his car and checking his phone again. Tsubasa had to have given him some kind of clue as to where he was. He scrolled the texts, all the cries for help. Nothing. Next the phone calls, the number he recognized well by now. Nothing. He tried the voicemail, still filled with crying and shuttering breaths that just worsened his anxiety. Nothing.

Wait

He paused.

There was something there, in the background – Low, rhythmic beeping. The bustle of professional voices. Stiff, starched sheets being moved. Muffled voices on an intercom.

A Hospital? It was his only guess and something in his gut prayed he was wrong as he started up the engine again and drove to the nearest hospital. The bright lights from some of the windows near blinded him as he parked, leaving him wondering why hospitals were always so bright and white.

He walked in the door, long strides leading him right to the front desk. His heartbeat seemed near in sync with the quick tapping of the receptionists newly manicured nails. There was a line, maybe two, three people in front of him and the wait nearly killed him.

“Um, Hi. Wouldn’t suppose there would be a Tsubasa Grahm check in here?” Kade asked with a small, but polite smile when he finally got to the front. He smiled a bit more awkwardly as the receptionist eyed his gang-styled self, up and down until she turned to her computer.

“Room 321.” She replied, turning to him with a tired, 3:00am desk work look, reciting the usual lines. “Are you family?”

Kade hesitated, glancing to the side for a moment. He wasn’t family, but he didn’t know why that would be necessary. “Yes?”

The woman eyed him for a moment before just sighing and waving him along, not seeming to particularly care at that hour of the morning, and Kade sped along his way. Down the confusing, cookie cutter halls he went, scanning the numbers on the doors for only a millisecond each.

318

319

320

He stopped, feeling the tension surrounding 321 hit him like a brick. It was almost stagnant, thick in the air like he couldn’t breathe. Even the nurses, who walked decisively down the halls, seemed to go in an arch around the door, as if not wanting to disturb the air around it.

Kade gulped nervously and reached for the door handle, quietly creaking it open to the just-as-white room inside.

“Tsubs? Tsubasa, buddy?” He murmured quietly, practically freezing at the figure who sat in the chair at the back of the room. If he could pinpoint the exact time his heart dropped into his stomach, it would have been that moment.

There he sat, head hung in an almost crushed defeat, eyes empty and hollow, like the concrete walls of an abandoned building in the middle of winter. His lips were partially opened as if frozen in the middle of speaking, yet they did not move and no sounds came out. Kade would have thought he was made of stone if not for the near violent shaking of his hands in his lap, dusted with a hastily wiped red. As hard as the pungent chemical smell of the room tried to cover it, a metallic smell still permeated Kade’s nose as he entered, all too familiar. What concerned him, though, was that Tsubasa’s partner, Adrian, was nowhere in sight.

“Tsubasa,” He murmured softly, silently cursing when his voice broke a little under the tension. “What happened…?” His steps were shaky and hesitant, and while he made barely any noise at all, he swore his footsteps echoed like thunder under the pressure of the room.

Tsubasa didn’t respond to him, no expression visible on his face other than the slack features of a dead man. Kade swore he had aged thirty years. He took steps closer, shutting the door behind him with a soft click to muffle the white noise of the rest of the hospital. He needed his friend in solitude if he wanted to get a word out of him.

“Hey…. Tsubs…” Kade whispered gently, bending down on his haunches to stand level with his friend. He waved a hand in front of his eyes. No response. He snapped his fingers. No response. He tried again and again to get is attention. No response. No response. No response.

“Tsubasa… It’s Kade, okay?” Kade murmured, staring at him with lost, worried eyes, probing for any sign of registry from his friend. “I…I’m here.” He reached a hand forwards, lightly touching the side of Tsubasa’s head to try and get his attention.

Finally a response.

Tsubasa’s head tilted upwards slightly, although still no emotion showed on his face. He only registered that Kade was there, in front of him. Kade nearly let out a breathy ‘thank god’ but kept it in the back of his throat. He didn’t have time to thank anything yet, not until he got him to speak.

“Hey, Hey… There are your eyes… What happened?” Kade questioned him, but received only a blank stare from Tsubasa, which only slowly trailed down onto the wedding band across his ring finger. Kade glanced down at it, brow furrowing in worry and pushing wrinkles into his forehead. “…Where’s Adrian?”

That seemed to do it; that was the key. Tsubasa’s eyes widened slightly and his hands shook more as the emotion flooded back into his pale face. He looked up with Kade, a shimmer in his eyes, but not the good kind. No, the kind made by big fat tears, ready to fall at any moment. In an instant, his face contorted into a pain unlike anything Kade had seen on him, teeth grit, mouth curved in agony, eyes squinted to try and stop tears. His mouth opened only to let out a choked sob as his eyes failed their job to catch his tears.

Heavy, burdened tears streamed down his cheeks and he turned his face into Kade’s arm, shaky hands jolting up to grab onto his sleeve, clinging to it as if afraid he would drown in his own agony. His eyes shut tight as his body heaved for air just to cough up more sobs. Kade’s sleeve was soaked in a matter of seconds.

He didn’t even know what to say, mouth twitching open as if he wished he had anything to say to calm the other man’s sorrow, but nothing came to mind. Nothing. No thoughts ran through his mind other than one, panicked question. What happened?

A nurse must have heard the cries, because the door flung open and two nurses rushed in to see what could have possibly happened. They didn’t even pay Kade a second thought as they softly, yet firmly, pushed him to the side and pulled at Tsubasa’s arms. Kade had been too caught up in the shock to notice that Tsubasa had begun to dig his nails into his arm, knuckles white in contrast with the red suddenly blooming around his fingertips. By the way the nurses acted alone, he could tell this wasn’t the first time this had happened in the time he hadn’t responded to Tsubasa’s messages.

Another nurse appeared at the door to quietly lead Kade away, forcing him to tear his eyes away from his desperate friend as he walked back out into the hall. He could swear he was shaking just as much as Tsubasa at this point, turning his wide, questioning eyes to the nurse. “What… what happened?”

The nurse gave him a solemn look and sighed, adjusting her wiry, ginger hair, tied up under her hat. She looked as if struggling to find the words, or maybe she knew the words but couldn’t bring herself to voice them.

“We… We could only save the spouse or the baby.”

- 3 Years later –

“Uncle Kade!” A tiny, slightly squeaky voice exclaimed excitedly, followed by the quick pitter patter of child’s feet as Kade stepped through the door. He let out a quiet laugh as a small child suddenly tackled his leg and hung on for dear life. “You came! You came you came you came!” She cheered excitedly, gazing up at him with starry eyes.

“Of course I came, muffin top.” Kade smiled at her affectionately, reaching down to pick the three year old up, adjusting her glasses for her on her face. “Did you really think I’d miss you’re most important day?”

“Nooooo, you always show up to my special days!” The girl giggled, patting his face lightly with her puffy child hand. “Did you bring me a present?”

Kade sighed and gave her a sad little look accompanied by a puppy dog pout, shaking his head. “Oh Taeru… I’m sorry, but I didn’t…” He murmured, holding back a smile as the child glanced down in a wave of disappointment. “... Didn’t forget to bring it!” He exclaimed, suddenly pulling a bag out from behind his back excitedly to show to her.

Immediately the child beamed and grasped at the bag, wanting to open it almost immediately. “Yay! Yay! Uncle Kade!” She cheered, looking over at the other few guests in the room. “Look Robynn! Uncle Shizu! Look look!” She exclaimed, squirming out of Kade’s arms, taking the bag, and ran over to the others.

Kade smiled softly as she ran away before sighing and turning to the short woman in the wheelchair nearby, her features resembling Tsubasa’s. “Hey, Nina.” He murmured, receiving a curt nod from the woman. “Where is he?”

“I’m not sure. Taeru opened the door herself.” Nina replied, smiling tiredly as Taeru ran up and jumped into her lap. Kade bent over a little bit with a gentle smile to ask her the same question.

“Tae, sweetie, where’s your Papa?” He asked gently, bracing his hands on his knees.

“Papa? He’s upstairs!” Taeru replied, wrapping her arms around Nina’s neck with a big, toothy grin.

“Thanks, pumpkin spice.” Kade smiled and ruffled her hair a bit before he moved to walk up the narrow stairway that led upstairs. As the sounds of the small birthday party dulled behind him, Kade hoped Taeru’s father was just making cake, or something.

He quietly opened the door, sighing at the silent creak of it. It reminded him of hospital doors, never oiled. He shut it behind himself and paused, seeing his friend laying on the couch. One hand hung limply off the side, face buried into the rough fabric of the pillow, Hair splayed out every which way. He fell asleep on the couch, again.

He stepped towards him, the stinging smell of alcohol berating his nose as he approached. He glanced down at the coffee table. Eight cans. Eight cans that night. Eight cans Kade wished Taeru hadn’t aptly nicknamed “icky juice”. Eight cans he hated.

Kade sighed heavily and bent down next to Tsubasa, gently shaking his arm in hopes of waking him from his drunken slumber. “Hey, Tsubasa. Your daughter is growing older without you.” He whispered, smiling a tiny bit as Tsuabsa stirred and glanced at him drowsily. “They’re gonna cut the cake without you, grahm cracker.”

Tsubasa groaned and sat up sluggishly, his skin pale and sickly, deep bags under his eyes. He looked up at Kade with a sigh, and Kade knew Tsubasa knew what Kade was thinking. Why do you do this to yourself? I’m here for you, talk to me.

“Shush. Save it, please. For another time.” Tsubasa murmured, sighing and standing up weakly. He put a hand to his head, wincing as he tried to fight off the impending headache. “Let’s go.”

Kade nodded and moved to help him downstairs, sadness filling his gaze as he noticed the small hole in his arm, the size of a needle. “They haul you off to the hospital again?” He asked quietly.

“Mm….” Tsubasa replied drowsily, nodding slowly. “Don’t worry… Tae was with Shizu that night.” He whispered back and Kade simply nodded, putting on a smile again as they stepped down into the party room. He watched as Tsubasa hobbled over to a chair at the table, smiling softly at his daughter as she ran up to him.

“Papa! You woke up!” She exclaimed, as if it was miracle, face bright and happy.

“Hey, bluebird… Having a good birthday?” Tsubasa slurred out quietly, running a hand through her hair softly. Kade watched the interaction with a quiet smile, sighing lightly as he heard Nina whisper something judgmental to Robynn behind him.

“Papa! Uncle Kade got me a present! Did you get me one too?” Taeru asked excitedly and Kade could see Tsubasa’s face crinkle in realization, not sure what to say. He forgot. He always forgot.

Kade stepped forwards quickly with a grin and ruffled Taeru’s hair. “Of course he did! He got you this!” He exclaimed, pulling a tiny blue dog plushie from his pocket. It was supposed to be a gift for his own son, Xoel, but he supposed he would just pick something else up on his way home. He caught the grateful, heartbroken glance from Tsubasa, dismissing it with his own, reassuring look. “Now go on, open the one from me, okay?” He grinned, watching Taeru run off to grab the bag from earlier.

Kade glanced over at Tsubasa quietly, his eyes hanging low with guilt, caught up in other thoughts while Taeru came back with the bag. The child stuffed her small hands into the tissue paper to fish out what she so desperately wanted to see. She gasped in joyous surprise as she pulled out a small, plastic tiara, silver and covered in dazzling plastic gems.

“It’s just like yours, uncle Kade!” She beamed, putting it on and dancing around, running from person to person to show them until she came back. “Papa! Papa! Look!” She beamed, staring for a moment and slowly looking disheartened when her father didn’t respond.

Kade gently nudged Tsubasa and is head jolted up quickly, staring down at Taeru in surprise. He stared for a moment before gently running a hand through her hair, which she smiled at. He smiled gently, little tears in his eyes that he quickly tried to hide.

“You look beautiful, blue bird… Just like Adrian…”

There is a sickness in the way we think, a disease that spreads with every nasty comment we throw at one another; it festers and propagates with every passing judgment.

It’s because we think rejecting someone makes them shallow, but pursuing someone makes them desperate, because even the thought of choosing the type person that makes you happy will make you picky.

It’s because we think men catcalling women is a compliment, not harassment, even when the woman has hunched up her shoulders in fear, desperately making up excuses to make that man go away.

It’s because we blame our women for sexual harassment, that we tell them to cover up and always keep their keys in their pocket, because only god knows if the man following you is just walking in the same direction or if he’s ready to attack you.

It’s because we think showing weakness is girly, because even girls insult a man for being a sissy, because a man is only as great as his masculinity and strength.

It’s because we think girls problems are solved when they doll themselves up to please other people, not to please themselves, because obviously the opinion of a man passing you on the street is more important than your own.

It’s Because short shorts and tank tops are too revealing, but long sleeve shirts and pants are too prudish, because you aren’t allowed to dress how you want unless everyone else approves.

It’s Because a women with muscles is too butch, and a man who likes pink is too girly, because grey is the only colour both genders are allowed to like without being judged.

It’s Because a person who’s fatter doesn’t care enough, but a person who’s skinnier cares too much, and if you dare to like yourself for how you are, you’re a narcissist.

It’s Because if a girl openly likes other women, she gets treated like a pervert in the locker room, because obviously she want to harass every woman she sees.

It’s Because if a guy loves another man, he gets shunned and beat up because to the others, it’s just unnatural.

It’s Because if someone identifies as a man despite their biological marker, they’re forced to pick which washroom they’d rather go into; to pick whether they want to get beat up in the men’s washroom or yelled at in the women’s.

It’s Because you have to be one or the other, you can’t be both, and you can’t be none. You must be a boy or a girl, you must be straight or gay. There is no such thing as being non-binary, or trans; there is no such thing and Bi and Ace.

It’s because even women perpetuate the systemic sexism, instead of respecting and loving and treating each other as equals.

It’s because men shame other men for being weak or feminine, because it’s shameful to be ‘like women’.

It’s because the same sexism that hurts women, also hurts men and we’re stuck in this eternal loop of internalized misogyny and vocal discrimination.

There is a discrimination in our gender, appearance, sexuality, identity.

There is discrimination in what makes us happy.

There is a sickness in the way we think.

Kade feels his hair stand on end every time the monitor spikes. It jolts up; his heart rate following as his hands grip the railing in front of the viewing window, as if they’d been fused together. He watches, eyes frantic as the doctors try to calm the violent palpitations of his husband’s heart. He doesn’t register the blood anymore, just the beeps and the sounds of the doctors hushed voices that follow. He teeters on the edge the whole time, feeling like he might faint or sob or both if the doctors don’t get things under control soon.

They had made it so far, through so much. For it to end now would just be far too tragic. No, wait. Not tragic. Tragedy is graceful. It holds beauty in it’s heart-wrenching embrace, carries a message on it’s life-stealing breath. This, this could only be described as a catastrophe. One that pulls apart trembling breaths and stains empty bed sheets with ugly tears. It doesn’t steal your breath away in a whisper, but punches you hard in the gut with a cry that could shatter glass. That’s what this could be. But Kade won’t allow that. No. his husband is going to live. His husband will live and he will take him out to the nice restaurant down the block, the kind they always love to go to. They’ll cuddle in bed and share tender kisses, the kind that made him melt before the chemo chapped his husband’s lips. He’ll feel Nic’s legs tangle around his as they fight off sleep for a few extra minutes of listening to each others breathing and slide his hands across his husband’s sides before he leaves for work the next morning. They’ll have that again. He has to believe they will.

Beep… beep...

He looks up at the sound of the receding beeping, knees almost buckling as the tension ebbs from his legs at the sight of the relieved doctor’s faces. They were still working; things weren’t done, but his husband lay calm once more under the anesthesia. He felt a soft hand stroke up his back, from the middle of his spine to the ridge of his shoulder. It’s soothing and pulls him back to the brightness of the hospital hallway overlooking the operating room. He spares barely one glance to Mian next to him, her eyes tender and grounding. Kade knows that without Mian, he would have broken down in the hospital bathroom already. His best friend, the person closest to him second only to Nicolau, she is his only solace right now. She’s already been through so much with him so far, this was just another speed bump for her; but for Kade, it’s more than just an event. It’s a life ending one. He keeps his attention on his husband’s surgery. Mian keeps her attention on Kade’s facial expression. Their priorities differ on the important person in the room; Kade pays attention to Nic, the one who might not live. Mian pays attention to kade, the person who wouldn’t bare to stay alive Nic didn’t. Kade takes a breath and lets it out. Takes another, holds it, refocuses, and lets it out again. He relaxes, unclenches his muscles, and fixates on the monitor once more.

Beep beep beep. The doctors seem relieved, working quickly. Beep beep. The doctors seem pleased. Kade can tell the surgery is almost done. Beep beep beep. His hope is growing, like a balloon, threatening to pop. Beep beep. The doctor’s face is scrunching up. Something is wrong. Beep beep. There’s yelling and rushing. Kade can’t make out what they say, he’s too focused on the beeps to pay attention to the muted voices. Beep. It’s sickening at this point. There should be more beeps at a time. More beeps do not come. The doctors are frantic. Kade remains focused on the beeps, he knows they will rise. Mian’s hand tenses on his back, no longer soft, and tells him she is more focused on the blood than the beeps. He knows he should look, but the beeping is all that keeps him grounded. He listens harder.

Beep

He grips the railing.

Beep

He denies that this is really happening.

Beep

There is more blood than he anticipated.

Beep

The doctors have stopped moving.

Beep

There’s nothing he can do.

Beep

He lets go of the railing.

Beep

He lets go of Mian.

Beep

He lets go of life.

Silence

There is only flatline.