[fic] Backdrop Ever Changing
Title: Backdrop Ever Changing
Genre: General/Romance
Characters/Pairing: Christoph/Em
Rating: T
Summary: You had tried to catch him.You weren’t able to; he was too ahead of you. But the two of you had too much fun anyway for you to care too much about it.
Word Count: 2,911
Something that's not old! Yay!
--
lights under the sky, reminding me how we'll meet again tomorrow
imagining years from now with the backdrop ever changing
we'd remain the only constant, i was fine trusting you
years from now
You were six when Christoph became your unofficial babysitter. He was fifteen that time and, whenever you’d look back, you’d wonder why you’re parents hired a fifteen year old to babysit you. But he had offered, and your parents had agreed, and that was the start of everything.
He hadn’t been bad looking after you. He let you watch want you want, let you play as much you could, and he had fed you well enough, made you clean up your mess, made you sleep (and he had been kind enough to let you stay awake as far as fifteen minutes later than what was asked-which, to a six year old, was a lot) like your parents wanted you to. But he was a boy middle schooler, he had his moments.
You adored him though. You looked up to him, like how you would to your parents, if only because he was older and knew a whole lot more than you did. He was what you thought was cool. He probably really was.
There was one thing you remembered extremely well from your first year with him. It had been a few months after he had started and he brought someone over. Her name was Daisy (her real name was Desiree, but you never knew that of course) and Christoph liked having some kind of contact with her all the time-like it had been with you, but you knew it was different; it had looked really different. You caught them in the couch, a few minutes after Christoph made you take a nap.
Watching them made you feel weird. You didn’t know why, but you watched them in awe. Your little baby-like mind had been transfixed with the couple. Christoph whispered something to Daisy and their warm smiles made your eyes widen. It hadn’t been long-perhaps-when Christoph leaned in.
It had been just a little peck really, the farthest most kid couples went through. Nonetheless, the picture became one of the first and most distinct memories of when you were small.
--
You were nine when Christoph had looked after you on his birthday. It was a weekday, a school day, so the actual party had happened the weekend before. Christoph turned eighteen that day and he seemed to be in a really good mood. You remember he talked like how your classmate Logan had talked when he got an A, really proud and ecstatic.
“Hey, Em!” he called when you finished eating the leftover cake he brought, “You got roller blades, right? Let’s go around the park.”
He had grabbed your hand and, for most of the afternoon, he held on to it as the two of you went through pavements and grass. People who looked at the two of you had smiled, you had looked like siblings. And, in a way, you had been. You really did like Christoph, and there had been a part of you that needed for him to like you just as much as you did.
When Christoph led you back to your house and the two of you were still quite far away, he let go of your hand and challenged you to a race. You clenched your right hand-being suddenly let go after hours of the older boy holding it had made it tingly to the late afternoon chill-and tried to catch him.
You weren’t able to; he was too ahead of you. But the two of you had too much fun anyway for you to care too much about it.
--
It had been when you were ten when you asked Christoph one day, “what’s kissing like?”
You had heard from a classmate of yours that they had tried kissing Sofia and that it had felt really good. You didn’t really know, though, because Kenneth could be a bit of an attention seeker and he tended to lie, but you had wanted to know.
He looked surprised when you asked that question. You had asked him, of all people, after all, but one of the most prominent pictures you remember of when you were young was when he and his old girlfriend had kissed. Somehow, it warranted to unconsciously connecting Christoph to kissing.
He looked at you awkward, he didn’t know how to describe it to a ten year old like you. But you wanted to know and people had soon realized how stubborn you could be if you wanted to. How all kids were, really. So he tried to explain it to you as much as he could.
He told you kissing was special, it was for people who meant something different to you-something good, he had added, when you started to wonder if that meant that you should kiss people you didn’t particularly like-and not just for anyone. He told you it felt awkward at first, but soon you’d really like it. Kissing felt different, and you wouldn’t have known because the only people you’ve ever kissed are your parents.
You had looked at him wonderingly, pursing your lips, like you were trying to imagine how it would’ve been like kissing someone who ‘meant different’. Christoph had looked at you fondly, his eyes softening, not that you could have told the difference. He ruffled your hair and chuckled and you scooted closer because it was nice whenever Christoph draped an arm over your shoulders. You felt protected.
--
Christoph had left for college but you weren’t even past twelve when he came back. You didn’t know whether it was because he was dropped out or if it was his own decision. You wanted to know, but you couldn’t ask him, it seemed intruding. You figured it was the former though.
You had decided to grow your hair a bit then and you even allowed bangs. But when he came back, your hair had just been recently cut, and you wished he had seen your hair before. You wondered how he would’ve reacted.
You were surprised when even after almost three years, your parents still decided that Christoph should babysit you. It was weird seeing an almost twenty-two aged man, growing a bit of a stubble, towering over you when the last he had been here, he was nineteen and trying-and failing-to grow facial hair. It had probably been awkward for him too.
You just started middle school and you were going through all these changes. You were growing taller and your hair curled quite a bit in your short haircut. You were starting to become gangly and you felt awkward in your body, but at least you were lucky enough that blemishes weren’t popular with you.
He looked surprised-maybe even a bit pleased that you looked fine at your awkward stage-and it was obvious, even to you, that he hesitated about hugging you. You almost felt sad when he just ruffled your hair in the end. You had missed him. No matter how uncomfortable it would’ve been, you wanted a hug from him. You realized how cold it was without it. You discarded the thought though.
--
You were thirteen when you decided to talk to him about something.
It was obvious you were going to go to Christoph. You didn’t know how your parents would react (and you always felt this tiny urge to gain Christoph’s approval, but you hated that part of you, so you didn’t think about it). You didn’t know how he would react either but you always felt more comfortable around him more than you were with your parents.
You were scared though, and maybe you would’ve backed down.
“Hey, Chris.” You were the only one who called him that. He had let you before because you were just a kid, and he had just gotten used to it as you grew older. It was like a special nickname for you. “I wanted to ask something.” You had trailed off there.
“Hmm?” He looked at you from his side and you almost really did back down.
You didn’t end up doing so, though. “There’s this boy in my class…”
He perked up almost immediately and you winced in the inside.
This shouldn’t be so hard. Girls ended up fawning over the cutest boys in their batch and even guys got massive crushes on girls that smiled prettily at them. It was different, though, and you knew it.
“I like him,” you whispered, and your face was too red to be something you considered normal. Your stomach was churning uncomfortably and you wondered if Christoph would start shouting at you.
He looked winded and you grind your teeth in anxiety.
You didn’t even know why you were sharing this. Luke was one of the cute boys in your batch and a lot of girls liked him. A lot of pretty girls liked him. What chance did someone like you have to be noticed by Luke?
Christoph would hate you and if there was one thing you didn’t want to happen, it was for Christoph to be disgusted by what you were.
You’re just about to leave for your room when Christoph threw his arm around you and pulled you close in playful understanding. It felt just the tiniest bit stiff and it was as if Christoph felt awkward about this sudden confession. But he gave you advice anyway and you soaked up on it. You leaned back to rest on his arm and he squeezed your shoulder absentmindedly. If you had looked at him, you would’ve seen how tight he pursed his lips together.
--
You were fifteen and you knew that Christoph wouldn’t be your babysitter for long. You were starting high school, and even now, your parents hardly ever called him to look over you when they’re gone. But Christoph really did like you, and you liked him just as much-maybe more, you’d always adored Christoph-and he still usually stayed with you when they went somewhere. And you always did trust him over anyone else. You told him things you never told anyone else.
You didn’t like thinking about how soon enough you’d stop needing a babysitter altogether and Christoph would realize that. You took comfort in the fact that he obviously cared about you, you didn’t know what would happen if he wasn’t constantly in your life anymore. And, sooner or later, he won’t be. He’s twenty-four, he needed to work and live on his own.
Ever since you confessed to him about your crush with Luke, he started to warm up to you even more, though at the same time, he started to hesitate whenever he touched you. You weren’t such a kid anymore, you were growing up, and you were starting to realize who you were. You took in every contact you had with him, you didn’t know how long it would last.
But it was more to it than that. You were being bullied. You were weird, you were a freak, you didn’t have a lot of friends in school. You loved it when Christoph made you feel safe, he made you feel normal. You had friends who really did like you in school, who understood and who were the same, but they weren’t Christoph, and you held on to him.
Sometimes, you wondered why you clung to him so much. And, sometimes, you wondered why he let you. But most of the time, it didn’t matter and you just let things be.
The two of you were watching TV. You knew this should be awkward, with you leaning onto him and Christoph draping his arm around you. But it should’ve been fine, you had a rough day and Christoph caught you abusing your pastels across the walls of an abandoned building. (That place had become your life-sized canvas but that wasn’t important.)
You didn’t really know what you were watching because you were so tired. You zoned out more and more each time and Christoph was rubbing circles on your arm. He probably knew you were falling asleep. You leaned back into the couch, squishing his arm between your back and the cushions. You dropped your head on the back and closed your eyes, you let your mouth hang a bit. You almost completely blacked out but then you heard Christoph chuckle softly. The last you remember is him kissing your forehead.
The next year, your parents stopped asking Christoph altogether. He started looking after you less and less.
--
You were nineteen and you were standing in front of Christoph’s house. You didn’t know what you were doing there, you just drove and drove to his house, his home that was in another city. It was nearing the end of summer and, when you go back to school, you were going to go to college to study architecture. You hadn’t seen Christoph in a long while. He had found a job just a bit after you turned seventeen, and he found his own house the same year. You hadn’t really talked the years apart but you knew he hadn’t dated since he was nineteen himself.
You weren’t one to talk, really. You haven’t had a boyfriend since before you were eighteen. You remember you even had a girlfriend or two before, but it turned out you just didn’t swing that way.
You didn’t know if you were waiting for Christoph to notice you, or if you just wanted to see his house. The wind rustled your hair, you never did let it grow again. You didn’t know why, you really did want to know what Christoph would’ve thought with you having long hair. But you ended up liking your cropped curly hair, you liked how it felt.
Who knew how long you stayed there. You were still staring blankly when Christoph opened the door and saw you. For the second time ever, you were taken aback by how much older he looked. He was still twenty-seven but he looked so different. Or not. Maybe you just didn’t like how much-so much-older he ended up looking after so long. He looked surprised too. You wondered if you were starting to look like an adult.
He looked like he was wondering what he should do while you were still trying to take him in. He seemed to be hesitating, he wanted to hug you, ruffle your hair, do something, but you weren’t small anymore, not even high school anymore and maybe it would’ve been awkward if he touched you in any way. He put his hand on your head, but it had been too stiff to be considered any sort of ruffle and you kind of just stared at him. He was still taller than you, and that had somehow calmed you down. You didn’t know what you would do if he weren't. He’s stopped growing after all, but you haven’t. You couldn’t have handled the change.
He let you in his house and you looked at everything you could see. He took three steps in front of you and there, there was an awkward smile. You didn’t know what possessed you but you threw yourself at him and hugged him tight. You made a sound that was something like a sob, something like a whine, but not quite. You hadn’t found anyone you trusted more than you did to him. No one made you feel as safe as he did.
He gave you orange juice and he drank coke. You held unto the glass tightly as the two of you talked and talked and talked. You didn’t know how long you talked with him either. Whatever he was going to do before he saw you was completely forgotten. You didn’t tell your parents where you were.
You told him you wanted to stay until summer ended and Christoph readily took you in. You had no clothes so you borrowed from him. You didn’t have much money either but no one seemed to care. You stayed there until you had two and a half weeks before college started.
--
You’re twenty-six now and you’re talking to Christoph on the phone. He had just turned thirty-five a while ago and you’re free for the month. You’re not known, but you earn quite well enough. You live in a decent-sized apartment and you don’t have a lot of luxuries. You don’t really buy a lot and most of your money goes to savings and groceries. You’re happy with your life.
You and Christoph are talking about whatever, mostly about new ideas. He’s a freelance writer and he doesn’t get paid much. He also works in a café and a computer shop. He’s thinking of writing about a robot and a heart that has no owner. You don’t know if he’s going to write a novel or a poem or whatever, but you like hearing his ideas, you like listening to his stories.
You’re eating in a small restaurant while you’re on the phone. Your shake is half-drunk and you’re drawing nonsense on tissue. The shake is quite soggy now and you’re drawing a triangle and a circle. You smile against your phone and draw more gibberish.
“Well, you’re really good, you know? It’s not very surprising.”
You give a small laugh and Christoph starts to chuckle with you. “Thank you,” you say.
He answers with a, “There’s nothing to thank for.”
You disagree but you don’t say anything.
Now you’re drawing a house.
~*~
This fic is a first for me in writing the 2nd POV and a kind-of relationship between two people with a big age gap. Also a first in writing original slash. Whoo!
I've been meaning to write about homosexuality between two people ten years apart for the longest time but I've never gotten around to actually writing it. There's something kind of tragic about it and, well, I like the idea.
Well, Christoph's feelings towards Em are questionable. It's really up to you whether it's one-sided or not :/
Granted, I was trying to decide whether I should mention the not-so-platonic feelings in Em's and Christoph's relationship and how Em was a guy considering I kind of wanted people to realize it without me pointing it out, just so I could see if I can actually do something kind of like iceberg but more like subtlety. But then, well, whatever. I'll just mention it.
I kind of want to write about Em and Christoph again, maybe an AU of sorts but I'll probably never get around to actually doing it.
Genre: General/Romance
Characters/Pairing: Christoph/Em
Rating: T
Summary: You had tried to catch him.You weren’t able to; he was too ahead of you. But the two of you had too much fun anyway for you to care too much about it.
Word Count: 2,911
Something that's not old! Yay!
--
lights under the sky, reminding me how we'll meet again tomorrow
imagining years from now with the backdrop ever changing
we'd remain the only constant, i was fine trusting you
years from now
You were six when Christoph became your unofficial babysitter. He was fifteen that time and, whenever you’d look back, you’d wonder why you’re parents hired a fifteen year old to babysit you. But he had offered, and your parents had agreed, and that was the start of everything.
He hadn’t been bad looking after you. He let you watch want you want, let you play as much you could, and he had fed you well enough, made you clean up your mess, made you sleep (and he had been kind enough to let you stay awake as far as fifteen minutes later than what was asked-which, to a six year old, was a lot) like your parents wanted you to. But he was a boy middle schooler, he had his moments.
You adored him though. You looked up to him, like how you would to your parents, if only because he was older and knew a whole lot more than you did. He was what you thought was cool. He probably really was.
There was one thing you remembered extremely well from your first year with him. It had been a few months after he had started and he brought someone over. Her name was Daisy (her real name was Desiree, but you never knew that of course) and Christoph liked having some kind of contact with her all the time-like it had been with you, but you knew it was different; it had looked really different. You caught them in the couch, a few minutes after Christoph made you take a nap.
Watching them made you feel weird. You didn’t know why, but you watched them in awe. Your little baby-like mind had been transfixed with the couple. Christoph whispered something to Daisy and their warm smiles made your eyes widen. It hadn’t been long-perhaps-when Christoph leaned in.
It had been just a little peck really, the farthest most kid couples went through. Nonetheless, the picture became one of the first and most distinct memories of when you were small.
--
You were nine when Christoph had looked after you on his birthday. It was a weekday, a school day, so the actual party had happened the weekend before. Christoph turned eighteen that day and he seemed to be in a really good mood. You remember he talked like how your classmate Logan had talked when he got an A, really proud and ecstatic.
“Hey, Em!” he called when you finished eating the leftover cake he brought, “You got roller blades, right? Let’s go around the park.”
He had grabbed your hand and, for most of the afternoon, he held on to it as the two of you went through pavements and grass. People who looked at the two of you had smiled, you had looked like siblings. And, in a way, you had been. You really did like Christoph, and there had been a part of you that needed for him to like you just as much as you did.
When Christoph led you back to your house and the two of you were still quite far away, he let go of your hand and challenged you to a race. You clenched your right hand-being suddenly let go after hours of the older boy holding it had made it tingly to the late afternoon chill-and tried to catch him.
You weren’t able to; he was too ahead of you. But the two of you had too much fun anyway for you to care too much about it.
--
It had been when you were ten when you asked Christoph one day, “what’s kissing like?”
You had heard from a classmate of yours that they had tried kissing Sofia and that it had felt really good. You didn’t really know, though, because Kenneth could be a bit of an attention seeker and he tended to lie, but you had wanted to know.
He looked surprised when you asked that question. You had asked him, of all people, after all, but one of the most prominent pictures you remember of when you were young was when he and his old girlfriend had kissed. Somehow, it warranted to unconsciously connecting Christoph to kissing.
He looked at you awkward, he didn’t know how to describe it to a ten year old like you. But you wanted to know and people had soon realized how stubborn you could be if you wanted to. How all kids were, really. So he tried to explain it to you as much as he could.
He told you kissing was special, it was for people who meant something different to you-something good, he had added, when you started to wonder if that meant that you should kiss people you didn’t particularly like-and not just for anyone. He told you it felt awkward at first, but soon you’d really like it. Kissing felt different, and you wouldn’t have known because the only people you’ve ever kissed are your parents.
You had looked at him wonderingly, pursing your lips, like you were trying to imagine how it would’ve been like kissing someone who ‘meant different’. Christoph had looked at you fondly, his eyes softening, not that you could have told the difference. He ruffled your hair and chuckled and you scooted closer because it was nice whenever Christoph draped an arm over your shoulders. You felt protected.
--
Christoph had left for college but you weren’t even past twelve when he came back. You didn’t know whether it was because he was dropped out or if it was his own decision. You wanted to know, but you couldn’t ask him, it seemed intruding. You figured it was the former though.
You had decided to grow your hair a bit then and you even allowed bangs. But when he came back, your hair had just been recently cut, and you wished he had seen your hair before. You wondered how he would’ve reacted.
You were surprised when even after almost three years, your parents still decided that Christoph should babysit you. It was weird seeing an almost twenty-two aged man, growing a bit of a stubble, towering over you when the last he had been here, he was nineteen and trying-and failing-to grow facial hair. It had probably been awkward for him too.
You just started middle school and you were going through all these changes. You were growing taller and your hair curled quite a bit in your short haircut. You were starting to become gangly and you felt awkward in your body, but at least you were lucky enough that blemishes weren’t popular with you.
He looked surprised-maybe even a bit pleased that you looked fine at your awkward stage-and it was obvious, even to you, that he hesitated about hugging you. You almost felt sad when he just ruffled your hair in the end. You had missed him. No matter how uncomfortable it would’ve been, you wanted a hug from him. You realized how cold it was without it. You discarded the thought though.
--
You were thirteen when you decided to talk to him about something.
It was obvious you were going to go to Christoph. You didn’t know how your parents would react (and you always felt this tiny urge to gain Christoph’s approval, but you hated that part of you, so you didn’t think about it). You didn’t know how he would react either but you always felt more comfortable around him more than you were with your parents.
You were scared though, and maybe you would’ve backed down.
“Hey, Chris.” You were the only one who called him that. He had let you before because you were just a kid, and he had just gotten used to it as you grew older. It was like a special nickname for you. “I wanted to ask something.” You had trailed off there.
“Hmm?” He looked at you from his side and you almost really did back down.
You didn’t end up doing so, though. “There’s this boy in my class…”
He perked up almost immediately and you winced in the inside.
This shouldn’t be so hard. Girls ended up fawning over the cutest boys in their batch and even guys got massive crushes on girls that smiled prettily at them. It was different, though, and you knew it.
“I like him,” you whispered, and your face was too red to be something you considered normal. Your stomach was churning uncomfortably and you wondered if Christoph would start shouting at you.
He looked winded and you grind your teeth in anxiety.
You didn’t even know why you were sharing this. Luke was one of the cute boys in your batch and a lot of girls liked him. A lot of pretty girls liked him. What chance did someone like you have to be noticed by Luke?
Christoph would hate you and if there was one thing you didn’t want to happen, it was for Christoph to be disgusted by what you were.
You’re just about to leave for your room when Christoph threw his arm around you and pulled you close in playful understanding. It felt just the tiniest bit stiff and it was as if Christoph felt awkward about this sudden confession. But he gave you advice anyway and you soaked up on it. You leaned back to rest on his arm and he squeezed your shoulder absentmindedly. If you had looked at him, you would’ve seen how tight he pursed his lips together.
--
You were fifteen and you knew that Christoph wouldn’t be your babysitter for long. You were starting high school, and even now, your parents hardly ever called him to look over you when they’re gone. But Christoph really did like you, and you liked him just as much-maybe more, you’d always adored Christoph-and he still usually stayed with you when they went somewhere. And you always did trust him over anyone else. You told him things you never told anyone else.
You didn’t like thinking about how soon enough you’d stop needing a babysitter altogether and Christoph would realize that. You took comfort in the fact that he obviously cared about you, you didn’t know what would happen if he wasn’t constantly in your life anymore. And, sooner or later, he won’t be. He’s twenty-four, he needed to work and live on his own.
Ever since you confessed to him about your crush with Luke, he started to warm up to you even more, though at the same time, he started to hesitate whenever he touched you. You weren’t such a kid anymore, you were growing up, and you were starting to realize who you were. You took in every contact you had with him, you didn’t know how long it would last.
But it was more to it than that. You were being bullied. You were weird, you were a freak, you didn’t have a lot of friends in school. You loved it when Christoph made you feel safe, he made you feel normal. You had friends who really did like you in school, who understood and who were the same, but they weren’t Christoph, and you held on to him.
Sometimes, you wondered why you clung to him so much. And, sometimes, you wondered why he let you. But most of the time, it didn’t matter and you just let things be.
The two of you were watching TV. You knew this should be awkward, with you leaning onto him and Christoph draping his arm around you. But it should’ve been fine, you had a rough day and Christoph caught you abusing your pastels across the walls of an abandoned building. (That place had become your life-sized canvas but that wasn’t important.)
You didn’t really know what you were watching because you were so tired. You zoned out more and more each time and Christoph was rubbing circles on your arm. He probably knew you were falling asleep. You leaned back into the couch, squishing his arm between your back and the cushions. You dropped your head on the back and closed your eyes, you let your mouth hang a bit. You almost completely blacked out but then you heard Christoph chuckle softly. The last you remember is him kissing your forehead.
The next year, your parents stopped asking Christoph altogether. He started looking after you less and less.
--
You were nineteen and you were standing in front of Christoph’s house. You didn’t know what you were doing there, you just drove and drove to his house, his home that was in another city. It was nearing the end of summer and, when you go back to school, you were going to go to college to study architecture. You hadn’t seen Christoph in a long while. He had found a job just a bit after you turned seventeen, and he found his own house the same year. You hadn’t really talked the years apart but you knew he hadn’t dated since he was nineteen himself.
You weren’t one to talk, really. You haven’t had a boyfriend since before you were eighteen. You remember you even had a girlfriend or two before, but it turned out you just didn’t swing that way.
You didn’t know if you were waiting for Christoph to notice you, or if you just wanted to see his house. The wind rustled your hair, you never did let it grow again. You didn’t know why, you really did want to know what Christoph would’ve thought with you having long hair. But you ended up liking your cropped curly hair, you liked how it felt.
Who knew how long you stayed there. You were still staring blankly when Christoph opened the door and saw you. For the second time ever, you were taken aback by how much older he looked. He was still twenty-seven but he looked so different. Or not. Maybe you just didn’t like how much-so much-older he ended up looking after so long. He looked surprised too. You wondered if you were starting to look like an adult.
He looked like he was wondering what he should do while you were still trying to take him in. He seemed to be hesitating, he wanted to hug you, ruffle your hair, do something, but you weren’t small anymore, not even high school anymore and maybe it would’ve been awkward if he touched you in any way. He put his hand on your head, but it had been too stiff to be considered any sort of ruffle and you kind of just stared at him. He was still taller than you, and that had somehow calmed you down. You didn’t know what you would do if he weren't. He’s stopped growing after all, but you haven’t. You couldn’t have handled the change.
He let you in his house and you looked at everything you could see. He took three steps in front of you and there, there was an awkward smile. You didn’t know what possessed you but you threw yourself at him and hugged him tight. You made a sound that was something like a sob, something like a whine, but not quite. You hadn’t found anyone you trusted more than you did to him. No one made you feel as safe as he did.
He gave you orange juice and he drank coke. You held unto the glass tightly as the two of you talked and talked and talked. You didn’t know how long you talked with him either. Whatever he was going to do before he saw you was completely forgotten. You didn’t tell your parents where you were.
You told him you wanted to stay until summer ended and Christoph readily took you in. You had no clothes so you borrowed from him. You didn’t have much money either but no one seemed to care. You stayed there until you had two and a half weeks before college started.
--
You’re twenty-six now and you’re talking to Christoph on the phone. He had just turned thirty-five a while ago and you’re free for the month. You’re not known, but you earn quite well enough. You live in a decent-sized apartment and you don’t have a lot of luxuries. You don’t really buy a lot and most of your money goes to savings and groceries. You’re happy with your life.
You and Christoph are talking about whatever, mostly about new ideas. He’s a freelance writer and he doesn’t get paid much. He also works in a café and a computer shop. He’s thinking of writing about a robot and a heart that has no owner. You don’t know if he’s going to write a novel or a poem or whatever, but you like hearing his ideas, you like listening to his stories.
You’re eating in a small restaurant while you’re on the phone. Your shake is half-drunk and you’re drawing nonsense on tissue. The shake is quite soggy now and you’re drawing a triangle and a circle. You smile against your phone and draw more gibberish.
“Well, you’re really good, you know? It’s not very surprising.”
You give a small laugh and Christoph starts to chuckle with you. “Thank you,” you say.
He answers with a, “There’s nothing to thank for.”
You disagree but you don’t say anything.
Now you’re drawing a house.
~*~
This fic is a first for me in writing the 2nd POV and a kind-of relationship between two people with a big age gap. Also a first in writing original slash. Whoo!
I've been meaning to write about homosexuality between two people ten years apart for the longest time but I've never gotten around to actually writing it. There's something kind of tragic about it and, well, I like the idea.
Well, Christoph's feelings towards Em are questionable. It's really up to you whether it's one-sided or not :/
Granted, I was trying to decide whether I should mention the not-so-platonic feelings in Em's and Christoph's relationship and how Em was a guy considering I kind of wanted people to realize it without me pointing it out, just so I could see if I can actually do something kind of like iceberg but more like subtlety. But then, well, whatever. I'll just mention it.
I kind of want to write about Em and Christoph again, maybe an AU of sorts but I'll probably never get around to actually doing it.