#➤ 𝚗𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕 ┊ levi & francis ➷ (𝟎𝟎𝟏.)

[flownintothesun]

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───    𝟏.  𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 :  𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲. // ( 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 )

                  ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬. ( @naitfall )

          𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇 — twirling until he’s dizzy in his attempts to provide every life he touches with a sort of gentle warmth, and light from the sun. It is a performance that he’s been living for all of his life, and it is a masquerade that wears a smile, and hides any trace of tears that the human being underneath the guise of perfection may feel. Once, someone had promised him freedom — a place where he could exist without restraint and expectation and the weight of his father’s wishes. This had been a great deception, perhaps the greatest. He had been younger then  — too young to believe in a world that is as cruel as his father. And if he’s honest with himself, he still doesn’t believe it.

      Somehow, he has maintained the ability to find good in most situations. An unstable environment at home has made him resourceful  — he often chaperones field trips, and volunteers for after-school clubs, and because of this, he’s gotten to know his students and their bright, creative minds. Because of them, he has hope for the world  — they are the rainbow after the storm, and perhaps he was never meant to be the sun  — but to lead others into the light. He is all right with this. His spirit never dampens outwardly, which is why he’s considerably surprised when Levi sees right through him  — not once, but again and again.

      If he had to speak on it — he’d say that maybe Levi’s offer comes from nowhere at all. They dance around each other — the literature teacher and the music teacher, who seem to overlap in so many ways. He’s left to wonder what gives him away — whether he’s not covered the bruises well enough, or whether he’s been missed at faculty lunches, or whether he perhaps smiles too much — stays behind with the students at every chance he can muster. He’s lucky enough to be here, after all, even if his pay goes directly to his — whatever it is that Stéphane considers himself to be these days — as an offset to his ‘care’. That’s fine. He wants for little enough, when all is said and done.

      He glances down at his hands — the only piece of him that isn’t soft and delicate — but worn from his craft. Golden curls spill in front of his eyes, and he offers a watery smile — “That’s very kind — but I’m quite all right.” If he closes his eyes, he can still see Stéphane ambling toward him like a jumpscare in a movie. “I’m just a little tired today, that’s all.”