"I have two eyes that are open. Open to the void."
for the prompt: "Sentir son regard à chaque mouvement"
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“I didn’t know you had hills in your blood Raylan.” Boyd said and Raylan wonder if it was just another lie or if Boyd really meant it. He couldn’t tell. There were many things he couldn’t tell with Boyd. Like if he wanted to punch Boyd in the face or drag him into a kiss him, although he already knew he would do neither.
He wondered if Boyd knew what he was talking about, if he could see right through Raylan, through all Raylan’s half memories and dreams, if he could feel the jolts on the tip of Raylan fingertips, the power begging for release. If Boyd ever wondered why they had made it out of the mine when they should have both been dead, dead, dead… but neither of them died that night (or maybe they both did, Raylan wasn’t sure sometimes).
Raylan wasn’t sure he ever knew how to read Boyd. He wasn’t sure he knew back when they were kids, even less when they were nineteen and he certainly did not know how now. The years hadn’t made much difference it seemed. He felt exposed under those eyes, nineteen again and ready to run.
Oh, he understood some things about Boyd. He knew how to read some parts him, the easier ones, the violence, the nerves, but those were only some part of him and Raylan knew better than most that Boyd was a lot more than what he allowed people to believe. There was something else in Boyd’s eyes, in the way he looked at Raylan. That was hardly new. There had always been too much in Boyd gaze, too much Raylan wanted to avoid, too many things he gladly forgot, too many things he was running from.It was supposed to get easier, with growing up, with Winona and Ava between them and yet it wasn’t, not really.
He didn’t known what it said about him, that of all the things Raylan ran from when he left Harlan at nineteen, Boyd may have been both one of the most terrifying.
He felt the heaviness of Boyd gaze as we were walking out of the hills, just as well as he felt the power oozing from Mary, an old and familiar thing that Raylan had long pretended not to feel. He wondered if Boyd could hear the voices of the trees in the Hills too. Or if he was something else altogether.
He could never tell with Boyd, and maybe there was something to say about that too.
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“I didn’t know you had hills in your blood Raylan.” Boyd said and Raylan wonder if it was just another lie or if Boyd really meant it. He couldn’t tell. There were many things he couldn’t tell with Boyd. Like if he wanted to punch Boyd in the face or drag him into a kiss him, although he already knew he would do neither.
He wondered if Boyd knew what he was talking about, if he could see right through Raylan, through all Raylan’s half memories and dreams, if he could feel the jolts on the tip of Raylan fingertips, the power begging for release. If Boyd ever wondered why they had made it out of the mine when they should have both been dead, dead, dead… but neither of them died that night (or maybe they both did, Raylan wasn’t sure sometimes).
Raylan wasn’t sure he ever knew how to read Boyd. He wasn’t sure he knew back when they were kids, even less when they were nineteen and he certainly did not know how now. The years hadn’t made much difference it seemed. He felt exposed under those eyes, nineteen again and ready to run.
Oh, he understood some things about Boyd. He knew how to read some parts him, the easier ones, the violence, the nerves, but those were only some part of him and Raylan knew better than most that Boyd was a lot more than what he allowed people to believe. There was something else in Boyd’s eyes, in the way he looked at Raylan. That was hardly new. There had always been too much in Boyd gaze, too much Raylan wanted to avoid, too many things he gladly forgot, too many things he was running from.It was supposed to get easier, with growing up, with Winona and Ava between them and yet it wasn’t, not really.
He didn’t known what it said about him, that of all the things Raylan ran from when he left Harlan at nineteen, Boyd may have been both one of the most terrifying.
He felt the heaviness of Boyd gaze as we were walking out of the hills, just as well as he felt the power oozing from Mary, an old and familiar thing that Raylan had long pretended not to feel. He wondered if Boyd could hear the voices of the trees in the Hills too. Or if he was something else altogether.
He could never tell with Boyd, and maybe there was something to say about that too.