Fic: The Closed Spaces [Original]
Title: The Closed Spaces
Fandom: Original
Pairing: The Lonely Boy/M------- friendship
From: 500themes
Prompts: 8. Breathtaking reality.
A/n: Partially inspired by articuno and her pickles talk.
~~o~~
1.
Most people keep asking him what it’s like being a kid. He shrugs and says, “It’s like being an adult, only you’re actually free” and they look at him weird and they go away.
He’s usually alone, but he doesn’t mind. Just nods and smiles, smiles and nods when asked if he’s lonely and tells them to go away, if you please.
It’s one of those days again, his fists bloody and his cheeks throbbing and bruised. But he just smiles, faces the wind and thinks. He just thinks and thinks and admires the sun but his eyes hurt. He’s on top of the hill again. His favourite place, and is sitting under a tree.
He sees someone walking up towards him, and it’s someone around his age. He remembers seeing him from around the neighbourhood. He’s new, he thinks. Because everyone knows. Everyone knows about him and that they shouldn’t.
But the other doesn’t seem to know anything, smiles at him and sits just there. He sits beside him, he turns and says, “Hi, I’m M----.”
The Lonely Boy just frowns at him and then turns away. “Go away, M----.” He feels a hand on his shoulder, and M---- is smiling at him, holding up a jar as if offering it to him.
“Do you want one?” He asks, and he shakes the jar. The pickle juice inside sloshes and it doesn’t sound attractive at all.
The Lonely Boy’s frown deepens. He takes one, and it’s to make M---- stop. He doesn’t like pickles so he makes a face showing disgust. But he takes a bite anyway.
“Do you like pickles?” M---- asks, but The Lonely Boy just chews and doesn’t say anything.
2.
He’s older now, but he’s still a kid. He feels the prison walls being built around him, but he shrugs and says he still has time. So he waits. He doesn’t know for what, but he does anyway and he thinks it’s kind of nice.
More people are smiling at him these days, and he knows. It’s because they can see the walls, he thinks.
He’s humming a happy song and he smiles. He’s walking up the hill, his hands in his pockets but someone’s following him this time. He feels his blood dripping down his nose and wipes it away with his sleeve. He looks back, and M---- is smiling at him, though it must hurt with a bruised cheek.
“You’re kind of an idiot, aren’t you?” The Lonely Boy says. He’s frowning this time. He likes being alone.
He looks behind him, sighs and slows down. M---- just smiles, like he finds something unbelievably funny, and maybe there is something funny about this. He isn’t exactly sure. The Lonely Boy frowns at him, but M---- just shrugs it off.
The Lonely Boy sits down unceremoniously and he feels the wind against his face and for a moment he thinks he’s lonely again. He tries not to smile, but M----’s hand touches his arm. He looks at him and he sees M---- holding up a jar of pickles.
He tilts it, like he’s offering one to The Lonely Boy. “Want one?” He asks.
The Lonely Boy looks at him, really looks at him, and it’s with a frown. He reaches for a pickle and takes a bite. “You really are an idiot,” he says.
3.
They’re smiling more. And he frowns, because it’s not just the walls anymore. There’s a door, and it isn’t looked yet, but there’s already a door where there’s only supposed to be an open space.
He shrugs again, thinks nothing of it. He’s still waiting, and he thinks it’s already there. It’s fun to wait though, so he doesn’t mind.
He’s walking up the hill again, and he tries not to smile. The wind is against his face again, but from a distance he already knows.
The Lonely Boy sees M---- sitting on his favourite spot, under that tree. And there’s a jar of pickles right beside him. He’s not bruised today, but M---- is. He storms up, angry, because he knows.
“What-” he says, but M---- cuts him off.
“Here.” M---- holds up the jar of pickles, offering one to The Lonely Boy and The Lonely Boy just sighs and sits down.
“I don’t usually eat pickles, you know,” he says.
M---- turns to him and asks, “Do you hate it then?”
The Lonely Boy shrugs, he’s never really thought of that before.
4.
He doesn’t even say anything this time. He looks up and sees M---- looming over him. He reaches a hand up, and M---- places his hand in his. The Lonely Boy raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. M---- continues to smile.
The Lonely Boy tugs on M----’s hand, not enough to pull him down but enough for M---- to understand.
M---- sits down beside him and places a jar of pickles between them. The Lonely Boy reaches for one, thinking.
5.
The Not-So-Lonely Boy smiles as the wind blows against his face. His eyes are starting to hurt from admiring the sky but he doesn’t mind. He’s not bloody or bruised, he hasn’t been into any fights lately. He hugs his knees tighter and smiles.
He knows.
They’re getting his lock ready and he knows he’s not a kid anymore.
He also knows that he’s done waiting.
He’s waiting. And it’s for M---- because he’s taking forever.
The Not-So-Lonely Boy doesn’t even bother frowning. He’s smiling as he sees the other walking towards him. He doesn’t bother frowning, because M---- is doing it for him.
M---- sits down beside him, and it’s not an angry frown on his face because he’s been crying.
“I’m going away, you know.” He says before placing the jar of pickles between them.
The Not-So-Lonely Boy nods, because he knows. He takes a pickle out and chews on it. “I think I actually like pickles,” he says happily.
M---- looks at him, really looks at him and he’s tearing up. “You can cry if you want.”
“I know,” The Not-So-Lonely Boy says before chewing on his pickle thoughtfully.
“I don’t want to go away,” M---- says, “I’d have to eat the pickles all by myself.”
The Not-So-Lonely Boy looks at him, his eyebrows scrunched up in the middle and his smile sliding off his face, “What?”
M---- takes a hold of the jar of pickles and hands it over to him. “I don’t like pickles.” He says, and he stands up. He’s smiling again, but he’s also crying. “Goodbye.” He walks away then.
The Not-So-Lonely Boy just stares at him. He’s finished the pickle and he’s holding the jar of pickles against himself. He frowns, and his eyes are hurting but he’s not even admiring the sky anymore.
“You’re such a bastard,” The Lonely Boy says.
Fandom: Original
Pairing: The Lonely Boy/M------- friendship
From: 500themes
Prompts: 8. Breathtaking reality.
A/n: Partially inspired by articuno and her pickles talk.
~~o~~
1.
Most people keep asking him what it’s like being a kid. He shrugs and says, “It’s like being an adult, only you’re actually free” and they look at him weird and they go away.
He’s usually alone, but he doesn’t mind. Just nods and smiles, smiles and nods when asked if he’s lonely and tells them to go away, if you please.
It’s one of those days again, his fists bloody and his cheeks throbbing and bruised. But he just smiles, faces the wind and thinks. He just thinks and thinks and admires the sun but his eyes hurt. He’s on top of the hill again. His favourite place, and is sitting under a tree.
He sees someone walking up towards him, and it’s someone around his age. He remembers seeing him from around the neighbourhood. He’s new, he thinks. Because everyone knows. Everyone knows about him and that they shouldn’t.
But the other doesn’t seem to know anything, smiles at him and sits just there. He sits beside him, he turns and says, “Hi, I’m M----.”
The Lonely Boy just frowns at him and then turns away. “Go away, M----.” He feels a hand on his shoulder, and M---- is smiling at him, holding up a jar as if offering it to him.
“Do you want one?” He asks, and he shakes the jar. The pickle juice inside sloshes and it doesn’t sound attractive at all.
The Lonely Boy’s frown deepens. He takes one, and it’s to make M---- stop. He doesn’t like pickles so he makes a face showing disgust. But he takes a bite anyway.
“Do you like pickles?” M---- asks, but The Lonely Boy just chews and doesn’t say anything.
2.
He’s older now, but he’s still a kid. He feels the prison walls being built around him, but he shrugs and says he still has time. So he waits. He doesn’t know for what, but he does anyway and he thinks it’s kind of nice.
More people are smiling at him these days, and he knows. It’s because they can see the walls, he thinks.
He’s humming a happy song and he smiles. He’s walking up the hill, his hands in his pockets but someone’s following him this time. He feels his blood dripping down his nose and wipes it away with his sleeve. He looks back, and M---- is smiling at him, though it must hurt with a bruised cheek.
“You’re kind of an idiot, aren’t you?” The Lonely Boy says. He’s frowning this time. He likes being alone.
He looks behind him, sighs and slows down. M---- just smiles, like he finds something unbelievably funny, and maybe there is something funny about this. He isn’t exactly sure. The Lonely Boy frowns at him, but M---- just shrugs it off.
The Lonely Boy sits down unceremoniously and he feels the wind against his face and for a moment he thinks he’s lonely again. He tries not to smile, but M----’s hand touches his arm. He looks at him and he sees M---- holding up a jar of pickles.
He tilts it, like he’s offering one to The Lonely Boy. “Want one?” He asks.
The Lonely Boy looks at him, really looks at him, and it’s with a frown. He reaches for a pickle and takes a bite. “You really are an idiot,” he says.
3.
They’re smiling more. And he frowns, because it’s not just the walls anymore. There’s a door, and it isn’t looked yet, but there’s already a door where there’s only supposed to be an open space.
He shrugs again, thinks nothing of it. He’s still waiting, and he thinks it’s already there. It’s fun to wait though, so he doesn’t mind.
He’s walking up the hill again, and he tries not to smile. The wind is against his face again, but from a distance he already knows.
The Lonely Boy sees M---- sitting on his favourite spot, under that tree. And there’s a jar of pickles right beside him. He’s not bruised today, but M---- is. He storms up, angry, because he knows.
“What-” he says, but M---- cuts him off.
“Here.” M---- holds up the jar of pickles, offering one to The Lonely Boy and The Lonely Boy just sighs and sits down.
“I don’t usually eat pickles, you know,” he says.
M---- turns to him and asks, “Do you hate it then?”
The Lonely Boy shrugs, he’s never really thought of that before.
4.
He doesn’t even say anything this time. He looks up and sees M---- looming over him. He reaches a hand up, and M---- places his hand in his. The Lonely Boy raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. M---- continues to smile.
The Lonely Boy tugs on M----’s hand, not enough to pull him down but enough for M---- to understand.
M---- sits down beside him and places a jar of pickles between them. The Lonely Boy reaches for one, thinking.
5.
The Not-So-Lonely Boy smiles as the wind blows against his face. His eyes are starting to hurt from admiring the sky but he doesn’t mind. He’s not bloody or bruised, he hasn’t been into any fights lately. He hugs his knees tighter and smiles.
He knows.
They’re getting his lock ready and he knows he’s not a kid anymore.
He also knows that he’s done waiting.
He’s waiting. And it’s for M---- because he’s taking forever.
The Not-So-Lonely Boy doesn’t even bother frowning. He’s smiling as he sees the other walking towards him. He doesn’t bother frowning, because M---- is doing it for him.
M---- sits down beside him, and it’s not an angry frown on his face because he’s been crying.
“I’m going away, you know.” He says before placing the jar of pickles between them.
The Not-So-Lonely Boy nods, because he knows. He takes a pickle out and chews on it. “I think I actually like pickles,” he says happily.
M---- looks at him, really looks at him and he’s tearing up. “You can cry if you want.”
“I know,” The Not-So-Lonely Boy says before chewing on his pickle thoughtfully.
“I don’t want to go away,” M---- says, “I’d have to eat the pickles all by myself.”
The Not-So-Lonely Boy looks at him, his eyebrows scrunched up in the middle and his smile sliding off his face, “What?”
M---- takes a hold of the jar of pickles and hands it over to him. “I don’t like pickles.” He says, and he stands up. He’s smiling again, but he’s also crying. “Goodbye.” He walks away then.
The Not-So-Lonely Boy just stares at him. He’s finished the pickle and he’s holding the jar of pickles against himself. He frowns, and his eyes are hurting but he’s not even admiring the sky anymore.
“You’re such a bastard,” The Lonely Boy says.