#saw someone draw a hedgehog from memory and i went 'let me do that too!'

[daily-shaymin]

It’s been a while and I don’t have any plan to return full time but i did doodle my little Scratch again for the first time in a long while! 

I hope you enjoy :D

[kissjane]

DELAYED DATE / Short(ish) fic

#12 from this prompt list.

TW / Mental illness, mention of suicide (but no actual attempt)

We dated in high school but then you moved away but now you’re back in town

“Have you guys heard?”

Basile came running towards them, ten minutes late for the gang’s weekly pizza night. As soon as he was near enough, he came to a skidding halt, bent double, his hands on his knees, his face red and ruddy, taking in gulps of oxygen while he tried to tell them his big news.

“Daphné told me, she heard from Imane, who had it from Sofiane, so that must mean it’s true, because obviously Sofiane would not just make something like that up, would he? Anyway, so Daphné heard it this morning when the girls went all shopping together, and she came over to my place to tell me just as I was about to leave, so that’s why I’m late, sorry about that, guys, have you ordered yet? You remembered to leave off the mushrooms on mine, right? Anyway, so what do you think about it, huh?”

He looked around expectantly.

“Baz, my man,” Arthur said, shaking his head fondly but exasperatedly, “why don’t you sit down first, and then tell us this piece of bombshell gossip Daphné thought was more important than pizza with your friends.”

Basile did as suggested, and then looked around again with aplomb, eager to share his news.

“Eliott is back in town!”

Silence fell, as Yann and Arthur glanced over at Lucas.

“Eliott Demaury?”, Yann asked after a long beat.

“Of course, Eliott Demaury, do we know any other Eliotts?”

Basile was so extraordinarily proud of surprising his friends with his announcement that he completely missed how Lucas suddenly had gone pale.

“We should text him, ask him if he wants to hang out again, like before!”

Lucas noticed how Yann elbowed Basile in the arm while Arthur frantically shook his head, and it made him feel bad. If the boys wanted to hang out with Eliott again, they should be able to. But Yann knew, and Arthur could probably guess, that Lucas would very much prefer not to. But whether Basile tried to set something up or not, chances were Lucas would run into Eliott at some point anyway.

“Yeah, sure,” he therefore said. Better to meet him with Yann there for emotional support, than running into him alone and when he was least expecting it. This way, he could prepare.

But not enough, it turned out, when Basile immediately took out his phone, and before anyone realized what was going on, announced gleefully, “That’s arranged! He’s coming over.”

Lucas choked on his own saliva, and a worried look appeared in Yann’s eyes, but the damage was done, and when a familiar figure walked up a few minutes later, Lucas took a big gulp of air and hoped for the best.

“Hi,” a hesitant voice came, and Lucas had to close his eyes against the memories crashing over him.

Eliott calling him late at night, his voice warm with sleep.

Eliott whispering nonsensical words in Lucas’ hair, against Lucas’ skin.

Eliott breathing out Lucas’ name into Lucas’ mouth, his lips taking on the shapes with Eliott’s.

“Hey,” he crooked, willing himself to act normally, to just greet him like an old friend he hadn’t seen in a while.

And why wouldn’t he? Of course, he had had the biggest crush on Eliott for most of the time they’d known each other, and Eliott had definitely given him the impression it had been reciprocated, until he had just disappeared – but nobody needed to know that.

Only Yann knew the full story – he had confronted Lucas one night, a few weeks after Eliott had left. Lucas had barely left his room for days, not speaking, eating only because Manon forced him. When he finally came back to school, he had been silent, withdrawn, and pale, and he snapped at the boys a couple of times for no reason. And then Yann had shown up, demanding answers, and Lucas had broken down and cried his heart out, telling his best friend about his whirlwind romance with Eliott, and the bitter taste it had left when Eliott had just packed up and left, not answering Lucas’ attempts at communication.

He would have sworn, only this morning, that he was definitely over Eliott Demaury, after three years – although maybe his glaring lack of any boyfriends in that time might suggest otherwise. Oh, sure, he’d kissed the occasional guy here and there, but nothing serious. And now, seeing Eliott, watching his grey eyes shine and his hands gesture wildly, he was forced to admit that the reason nothing ever went further was that he was the farthest thing away from being over him.

Basile was already jumping around Eliott like a young puppy, bouncing up and down, asking him how he was, what was going on, whether he was back for good, where he had been, why he had moved without notifying any of them – all in rapid-fire, without giving the older boy a chance to reply.

Finally, Eliott spoke up.

“It’s not the happiest story, but if you guys are up for it, I would like to tell you all.”

He stared straight at Lucas, and Lucas needed to turn his head, afraid of falling for Eliott all over at the slightest opportunity. He steeled himself not to believe any of his beautiful words this time, not to walk into his trap again.

But Yann nodded solemnly, and Eliott gangly sat down, folding his long limbs and hunching his shoulders.

“So, uh, I am bipolar. I don’t know if you guys know, but it’s a mental disorder…”

A silence fell. They all knew what that meant. Lucas had finally told the gang about his mom’s admission into the mental ward in their last year, and Basile had told them about his mom’s mental illness.

“We know,” Arthur said. “That sucks.”

“Uh, okay, yeah, it does. So we didn’t know at the time, but a lot of the stuff I did at my old school was due to episodes. It’s also why I failed my bac and got expelled from my other school and came to your high school. But like I said, nobody knew at the time and so, one day, I went into a manic stage and I tried to jump off a rooftop because I thought I could fly. A police agent managed to talk into me enough to get me down safely, and I got brought into the station. They called my parents, and they thought I had tried to commit suicide – which wasn’t true. I had everything to live for, and I wouldn’t want to give up –”

He looked at Lucas again. So did Yann. Both sets of eyes were trying to gauge what Lucas was thinking, feeling, but Lucas was numb.

“Anyway. They had me admitted into a psych ward near Le Havre, where they had moved to a few months earlier, that same night. I couldn’t keep my phone or anything, I couldn’t contact anybody, I –”

Again, his eyes found Lucas, pleading.

“I wanted to call you so badly, I swear, but they wouldn’t let me, and then when they finally gave me my phone back, it was weeks later, after they had diagnosed me, and I just – I thought you would be better off without me. Or that you would have forgotten me, or had moved on, and so I just… didn’t.”

Lucas saw Eliott’s eyes shine with something different now, as if he was blinking back tears. He wasn’t sure his own eyes looked any better.

It remained silent for a while. The boys looked from one to the other, unsure what was going on.

“So why are you back now, then?”, Yann asked, when nobody else made a move.

“The simple reason is that I finally got accepted into the Arts program at the University of Paris,” he answered, but his eyes still never left Lucas.

Yann nudged him with his elbow, willing him to ask the obvious reason, but Lucas was still too much in shock to do so.

In the end, it was Arthur who finally broke the heavy tension.

“And the complicated reason?”

Eliott took a deep breath.

“I had to leave something behind I never wanted to leave. Or someone, rather. Someone who I hadn’t even known all that long, but who meant everything to me. Someone who I missed every goddamn day I was out there. Who I have written thousands of texts to, and deleted them all, who I wanted to call millions of times, but never did. Someone I made so many drawings for over the years I could barely get them all to Paris with me – I just hope he gives me a chance to show them to him one day.”

“Sound like someone pretty important,” Yann said, when Eliott’s voice broke.

“The most important person I ever met,” Eliott agreed. “I loved him then, and I hate the fact that I never got to tell him, so I just hope I get to tell him now.”

“Do you – still?”, Lucas whispered. “Love him?”

Eliott nodded. “I never stopped. Please, Lucas,” he said, suddenly giving up all the pretense, beseeching him, “I swear I never meant to hurt you, it all happened so fast, and I know I am years too late, and you probably have somebody else by now, I just – I need you to believe me. I fell in love with you the first day I saw you walking the hallway at school, and I never stopped.”

Basile gasped.

“You are in love with Lucas? Our Lucas?”

“Oh, come on, Baz,” Arthur said as he stood up. “Let’s go get pizza. You coming, Yann?”

And as Basile still protested indignantly – “But I didn’t know! Lucas never said anything!” – Arthur and Yann dragged him along, the latter winking over his shoulder at Lucas.

As Basile’s voice finally died down, Lucas lifted his eyes to Eliott’s, and then dropped them to his mouth almost immediately.

“Lucas?”, Eliott said tentatively, gingerly reaching out a hand to Lucas’ shoulder.

“You drew for me?”

He didn’t know why he came up with that, after everything Eliott had said, but he was rewarded when Eliott smiled.

“Hundreds of times. Hundreds of happy hedgehogs and raccoons.”

Lucas smiled.

“Do you… I mean, maybe… If you wanted… You could come with me and I could show them to you?”

Eliott’s tone was hopeful, but cautious, and suddenly Lucas didn’t want to waste another minute. He’d pined over Eliott for years, and here he was. Nobody could predict the future, but tonight, he wasn’t going to let Eliott slip away.

“Only if I can stay the night,” he said, softly, and he laughed as Eliott’s eyes went wide and his breath hitched.

“I can’t wait until we get there to kiss you,” Eliott replied just as softly, when he was sufficiently recovered.

“Please don’t.”

And when their lips found each other again after all those years, they both knew it was going to take a while to get to the drawings – but neither of them overly minded.

[theflashdriver]

Silvaze: What We Could Be

This wasn't the first time Blaze had found herself in this position and it certainly wouldn't be the last. She was sitting on a dusty old bed, to be specific; she was sat in the medical room with a large gash on her collar while Silver was panicking, trying to help her. The hedgehog was rummaging through boxes, upturning medical kits and scrounging whatever equipment he thought might be useful for treating her. The feline had taken a hit trying to defend him, flaming bats had rushed the pair and Silver had been ill-prepared to defend himself. Leaping into the fray was always dangerous but when given the choice between an injured Silver and the dull throbbing she felt in her shoulder, Blaze would always chose the hedgehog's safety.

He'd already gathered a basin of water, a basin she'd submerged her hand in and began to boil, but that clearly wasn't enough to sate him. Medical supplies, for the most part, have shelf-lives, antiseptic creams harden into sludge and pain killers lose their effect, so living in the post-apocalypse meant none of these aids were available. They were lucky to have water even and, to be honest, Blaze though using it to clean her wound was a waste. But he'd been insistent.

She didn't think the wound was even that deep, the bone hadn't broken and it wasn't as though there was much risk of infection; Iblis' monsters were made of fire, the wounds they left practically disinfected themselves. Her injury did, admittedly, look bad though. Blood had reached down to stain the hem of her leggings, stretching across the entire right side of her body to do so. The wound itself was quite large too, it was still obscured by her jacket but the gash stretched from near her shoulder to the midpoint between it and her heart. Blaze understood why he was acting like this, of course she did, but she was anxious about what was to come. He was going overboard and she knew what he was like when he went overboard. As memories of past injures flashed in her mind, Blaze felt her cheeks grow a little redder.

The hedgehog finally rose from his mess, sweaty and clearly dissatisfied. He'd managed to find a few rolls of bandages, a box of plasters and some clothing pins but not the stitching equipment he'd (assumedly) been hoping for. He set the goods down beside her, took another look at her wound and tensed up again.

"Relax Silver, I told you, it only hurts a little," She chided, trying to quell his concern.

"I know, but it looks like it hurts a lot..." Worry still emanated from him, weaselling its way to her core, "You can still move your arm, right?"

Repeating the motion she'd already showed him a few times, Blaze reached out with her right arm and took his hand. Well, in this case she reached out and took the bandages from him. He still didn't look convinced but she knew he wouldn't be until she was fully healed. The sooner she tended herself, the sooner they'd both be able to relax.

"I'll be fine, thank you Silver," She, fruitlessly, attempted to reassure him.

"It's no problem," He smiled, closing what little gap remained between them, "I'll patch you up and then start on dinner."

Of course he wanted to help with bandaging, her temperature rose even higher, "Just go make dinner, I'll do it myself."

"Blaze, it's on your collar. You can't see it properly, let alone bandage it," He, not incorrectly, surmised and suggested.

The feline turned away, refusing to let him sway her, "I can reach it fine Silver, it's not like it's on my back."

"It's okay, I'll be gentle; I promise!" He swore, entirely genuine.

That was the problem though, Blaze knew just how gentle he'd be, "You're making a fuss Silver, I said I could handle it myself so I'll handle it myself."

"I mean... if you're certain..." He wasn't convinced but Blaze knew he wouldn't fight her, "Just call if you need me, I'll wait outside, okay?"

"I won't," From her periphery vision, Blaze saw his face fall, "But if I do, I'll call for you," That didn't feel like enough, her mouth was still filled with words, "I-I promise."

His face brightened, just a little; a smile crept onto his lips, "Alright, if you're really sure," His hand came to pluck at his chest fur, accidentally taunting her, "I'm so glad you're okay, I was so worried..."

"If I wasn't, I know you'd look after me," What was she even saying, it was all so embarrassing, her words felt like sludge in her mouth, "I know I can count on you."

Another smile flew her way, before he made his exit Silver shifted a basin onto the bed beside her. Water was such a rarity here, they'd spend days scouring houses to secure such small amounts and even then they had to boil and purify it, make sure it was safe to drink. Blaze knew it was for safety's sake but wasting a whole basin on such a small wound seemed like a waste. He was willing to spend this much to keep her safe and comfortable. She removed her gloves and cupped her hands, submerging them to gather a drink. It was only as she finished her handful that a thought occurred to her. He probably wouldn't have drank before gathering their water, he could be so stupidly selfless. Blaze cupped her hands again, acquiring more water, but this time held her hands to him. Despite the effort, she couldn't hold his gaze.

"H-Here, we shouldn't let it all go to waste. We'll have to collect more in the morning," She'd insisted rather than ask him, as she so commonly did when she felt embarrassed.

Blaze felt his hands on her wrists before, far sooner than she'd expected, she felt his chin brush against his fingertips. Heat spread up her cheeks and onto her ears. In hindsight, she should have just suggested that he take a drink from the basin; she'd simply been too distracted to think rationally, too flighty about his attempts to help her. The hedgehog seemed to take an eternity drinking despite the volume she'd gathered being quite small. The moment he finished her hands returned to the bed, scrunching up the duvet in the contact's wake.

"N-Next time just take some for yourself," What was she even saying? Couldn't she keep herself from chastising him, even just this once? She'd offered him a drink and he'd taken it, it wasn't as if he'd asked to drink from her hands, "You shouldn't dehydrate just because I'm a little hurt."

"I know, I'd just rather make sure that you're safe before worrying about myself," His heart shined, firmly attached to his sleeve, "You're important to me."

"You're so naive," She grumbled, "Go make dinner, I'll be through as soon as I can."

"Just call if you need me," He insisted one last time, "I'll come as quickly as I can."

With that, Silver finally stepped out of the room, Blaze unleashed a sigh as silence claimed her surroundings. The world suddenly felt a lot colder, she immediately missed the light of his eyes and tender energy. Well, the sooner this was done the sooner they could return to normalcy; the sooner they'd be reunited her heart would stop beating so fast.

She began to disrobe, unzipping her jacket to around her midriff and allowing it to fall from her shoulders. Blaze's view of her injury had improved but, admittedly, Silver had been right. Her wound (well, the blood and scabbing that hid her wound) was mostly visible but she couldn't see its entirety. The injury stretched from the edge of her white underbelly upwards and onto her purple fur. That point was beyond clear visibility, if the actual wound stretched that far then she'd really struggle. She'd have to be thorough and broad with her cleaning, otherwise she'd risk missing a spot.

The cloth was quickly rung out; Blaze winced as it made first contact. She scraped down, what she perceived to be, the entire length of her wound in an effort to clean out any residual fluff or grime that had gathered in the gash. Some of her jacket had surely been clawed into her and, though they'd been quick, training had taken them to the far side of the city. Soot hung in the air and on every building, Silver had flown them back but he couldn't have deflected it all. Drawing the rag into her vision, Blaze saw plumes of purple fabric, black speckles and the orange-red hue of watery blood spreading throughout the white mesh. She'd reopened her wound; it throbbed and stung almost as though it were fresh.

Cleaning the cloth and ringing it dry, Blaze couldn't help but let her brows sink down and her teeth clench as she braced to wash more. What little she could see had been soaked but it was hard to remove staining from her underbelly. Even ignoring the red colouration, black speckles and dark purple strings surround the injured site. The feline refused to give up though, resuming and enduring as she cleaned.

She knew that she was being too heavy-handed with herself, pushing blindly in an attempt to thoroughly clean her wound, but it was all she really knew how to do. The feline was tough on herself, she always had been, but she knew someone who wasn't. It was so embarrassing though, she couldn't have sent Silver away more than ten minutes ago; the hedgehog had likely started to make dinner. Blaze returned her cloth to her shoulder again but winced and hissed at the contact, trying to do this blindly had been foolish. Diluted blood was starting to stain her hands; she rinsed the cloth again but the water was starting to darken. At this rate she'd actually waste it all.

Blaze tried to regain some modesty, pulling her jacket up as far as it would allow, but the fluff of her white underbelly had to stay partially exposed. With some effort, Blaze managed to hide everything beyond her right oxter. She cupped a hand to her mouth and turned to the door.

"Silver?" She barely shouted, still much too embarrassed.

Despite her quietness, he immediately responded, "Do you need help Blaze?"

A sigh escaped her throat and her cheeks puffed up, "...Y-Yes."

The white hedgehog quickly returned to the room, as his eyes fell upon her the feline couldn't look at him. He was being so casual, far more bothered by her injury than her state of mild undress.

"I-It's a little more sensitive than I thought, do you think you could..." She held out the cloth to him, Silver took it without a second thought.

"I promised to be gentle," He gently reminded her, leaning down, "Let me know if it hurts, okay?"

Blaze could only manage a nod in response, prying her gaze from him and towards the ceiling, "Just... do it, please."

Silver seemed to immediately find a patch that she'd missed, evidently the stain stretched far further than she'd anticipated. Lukewarm water was rubbed into the fur of her neck, it didn't hurt but it did hammer home just how foolish it was to try and bandage herself alone. This had been inevitable.

The wound still ached from her scrubbing but Silver's touch was like silk. No matter how critical she was of herself, no matter how rough, Silver would find a way to be gentle. He was cleaning around the edges first, diligently wiping away what remained of her dried blood before slowly working his way inwards. His right hand came to gently hold her back, it was to help him accurately yet softly tend her but it certainly stoked the flames of her embarrassment. By the time he'd started to work on the wound, having rung out the towel no more than three times, Blaze could feel herself sweating.

Moments like this were difficult; they reminded her of what was and what could be. As his hands gently caressed her fur, intent not only on cleaning her wound but making her comfortable, Blaze found her mind drifting. He was so close, leant down yet still a little over a head taller than her. Her fists balled against the sheets; if she were braver, she'd pull him closer here and now, envelop him in her arms and properly thank him for helping her. But she wasn't brave enough, let alone gentle enough to commit to such an act.

Blaze pried her eyes from him but the bare blue walls of the medical-room couldn't pull her attention away from him, come to think of it; nothing in their makeshift-house could. Nowadays home was a small Youth Hostel near the city centre, its yellow and blue paintwork had started to crack but the building itself was in good condition. The doors were thick and heavy, making them much easier to barricade, and (with the exception of the living room) their current home had no windows. Of course, being a hostel, the building had plenty of rooms; while they currently sat in the makeshift infirmary they'd also constructed a pantry, a washroom and a library. You'd think that they'd each have their own bedroom and thus their own beds but, for reasons Blaze didn't dare admit, the feline slept better whenever she lay with the hedgehog.

That last thought was making it even more difficult to look at him yet, simultaneously, much more difficult not to. She caught his ear out of the corner of her eye; his quills were still in their bedraggled, post-battle, state. Maybe she'd find the nerve to neaten them later but, for now, Blaze stomach was bouncing around and her mind was racing to catch it. She was trying her hardest to ignore him, to let him do his job but Blaze found herself sneaking nigh constant glances at the hedgehog. Something about the way he was holding her, despite the nature of his task, was almost... comforting. She didn't want to admit it, but Blaze was almost enjoying this.

It was a strange kind of comfort, almost sick or sadistic. Her wound was still throbbing but that feeling was being muffled by mere juvenile infatuation. It was childish, foolish and entirely preposterous; they were partners, companions even; they cared for the other more than they cared for themselves. This wasn't supposed to be intimate; Silver was dressing her wounds, he'd before and he surely would again. Hell, she'd done it before and she'd undoubtedly do it again; it was normal, typical. Yet, as she caught his eyes worriedly flickering between her eyes and her injury, Blaze couldn't deny that there was a tension between them.

No matter how she pleaded with herself, Blaze couldn't crush the fluttering in her chest. He was always so gentle with her; he'd display his softer side without fear or hesitation if it'd make her just a little more comfortable. The hedgehog tried to be tough, he wanted to be so much stronger than he was, but when they weren't fighting Silver's true nature rose to the surface. He was many things, irrationally dedicated, loyal to a fault, quick to trust and incredibly naive, but at his core the psychic was kind-hearted and caring. Fixing the world wasn't about him; of course he wanted to see a blue sky but he wanted that for everyone, he wanted everyone to have hope and be able to live peacefully. He wanted her to live peacefully and to be safe; he'd always stressed that.

Blaze had tried her hardest to avoid dissecting her feelings, fearing their analysis might expose her to some further forbidden knowledge, but when he tended to her like this she fully understood. He made her feel cared for in a world where one should only care for themselves, his contact told her that she cared about him far more than she felt she could tell him and, most importantly, his gentle endeavours made Blaze wish she was gentler. Silver made her wish she could convey what she felt even if she couldn't speak it.

She couldn't help chiding him whenever her feelings grew too strong; she so often claimed that he was naive but that claim came from her own inexperienced. No matter how often he showed her his softer side, Blaze struggled to manifest her own. The feline knew that her heart wasn't made of stone, her stomach wouldn't be doing backflips if she was uncaring, but whenever these feelings flared up it was as though she'd been petrified.

"Blaze?" His words cut through her thoughts and pulled her back to reality, "Am I hurting you? You feel a little tense..."

Silver had hesitated; his hands were still on her shoulders. Contact like this was practically sacred in this city of hell, so unfathomably rare and cherished above all else. People weren't meant to hold each other like this, let alone look after each other like this. Her heart wasn't meant to be beating like this.

The feline turned away, a sigh slipping her lips as she struggled to blow off his worry, "You're not, you're doing..." Now was a chance to return his kindness, even if she couldn't look him in the eye she had to say something, "Fine."

As that word escaped from Blaze's lips, her self-loathing came to a head. Who was she kidding, she couldn't return-

His hands suddenly shifted, his fingers had caught her chin and gently turned her to look back at him, "I know you're strong but you feel pain just like everyone else does. If this hurts then I'll try to find another way, I don't want to hurt you."

"Silver..." Even while he was being so tender, the hedgehog was scared he was being too harsh while he was being so gentle. His fingers didn't leave her face, their prior position was already too intimate; contact like this was just too much. Blaze felt the warmth in her chest explode onto her face, "Y-You're doing fine, Silver! You're not hurting me at all, just..." She scrambled for the right words, "I'm still not used to such a delicate touch. Th-Thank you."

"It's no problem Blaze, I'm just looking after you like you look after me," He beamed, not remotely understanding. Well, it wasn't like she was being obvious.

"You're so naive," She'd built up enough strength to turn away, again pushing aside his hand. Despite that shift, her eyes still feel upon him, "If there's an issue I-I'll say, I promise."

"Thank you," A small smile managed to crawl across his lips but his eyes were still clearly concerned. His hand lowered from as he returned to cleaning her, "You're my partner, just like you're supposed to look after me, it's my job to look after you. If I'm hurting you then I'm doing it wrong."

He'd stressed their partnership again; the kinship she currently held in her grasp and fearfully longed to tear to shreds. From the scraps of their bond something greater might grow but, in truth, Blaze was scared the effort would fail. If she lost him then she would have nothing, this old building wasn't her home; Silver was home. He was safety, he was warmth, he was tenderness and all that the world seemed to lack; he was everything that she struggled to be yet he made her long to be those things.

His fingers were plying at her collarbone again; he'd finished wiping her gash and moved on to bandaging. From her awkward position, now that the blood was cleared, Blaze found that she had been correct; the actual wound couldn't be much longer than her middle finger. It was an awkward position to wrap though, both because it was finicky and because of the nature of that location. There was no getting around it; this endeavour was just as intimate.

It wasn't as though he hadn't seen her like this before, partially disrobed and bashful, they lived together and tended each other after all. There was just something in the air tonight, a pressure she couldn't help assuming that he didn't feel. The pressure began to push purrs from her chest but she quickly smothered them. Well, she tried to smother them.

He decided to wrap upward, beneath her armpit and around her collarbone, leaning in closer still as he bound around her back. She could smell the day's battle on him, sweat and smoke was such a common scent to her but it still drew her full attention. Oftentimes their aroma would overlap, they'd lie together and their scents would be jumbled, but in moments like this he was distinct to her. His chest fur caught her eyes as he leaned in, knotted and dirtied. She'd often catch herself playing with it as they were drifting off, undoing the tugs in it and softening that patch until it was fully smooth. Bringing it this close was almost taunting her, he was being so gentle; caressing that patch was the ideal way to return the favour.

Yet her hands refused to leave the bed, it was as though they'd turned to stone and locked her in place. When he finished his gentle task she still hadn't acted, she'd completely failed. Once again, he'd been so tender with her while she could only sit and watch.

"Is it comfortable?" Silver innocently asked, seemingly unaware of the turmoil inside her head.

Blaze managed to roll her shoulder, "Yes, thank you Silver," Her vision fell to the carpet, "I'm sorry that I worried you. I should have let you help from the start."

"You were looking out for me Blaze, you got hurt defending me, I should be thanking you," The pyrokinetic couldn't help thinking that his smile looked warmer than any fire she could conjure and yet, still, her hands refused to leave the mattress. She couldn't reach out and hug him, "I'll go start on dinner; you get some rest, okay?"

"I'm fine Silver, really," She tried to insist but her heart was weak to his big yellow eyes. He had such sway over her, he didn't even know it, "But alright."

He smiled at her one last time and turned to make his way out of the room, granting her a full view of something she'd entirely missed. There was a wound on the small of Silver's back. He was hurt too.

Her hands were torn from the bed, she spoke without hesitation, "Silver, you're injured. What happened?"

"Huh? I am?" The hedgehog half turned to her, stopping in his tracks.

"There's a cut on your back," She quickly informed him, pointing, "Does it hurt?"

"I don't even feel it, am I bleeding?" Silver blinked, blindly patting his back in search of the scab and trying to look over his shoulder.

Well, he wasn't quite bleeding but he clearly had been at some point. The graze had been small enough to close on its own, likely staunched by his fur, but Blaze could see the aftermath. There was a red splotch in his fur and a, small, crusty line where he had been cut. The mark couldn't be longer than her pinky and it couldn't be wider than her thumb but it'd given Blaze an opening. This was her chance to return his kindness!

"How naive, babying me while you were injured," No! That wasn't right, that wasn't good enough! She had to be gentle with him, "S-Sit down!" She practically growled at him.

Despite her idiocy, Silver did as was asked of him. He sat beside her on the bed, facing her as if she'd asked reasonably, "Does it look bad? I really can't feel it."

"Give me a moment," She shuffled back, shifting near the centre of the bed and behind him.

Now freed from his embarrassing gaze, Blaze managed a small sigh. It was no wonder she hadn't noticed before; his quills were a mess, the back pair had frayed very badly and was masking the first two-thirds of his back. She reached out, easing them aside and revealing his back. Even now that it was revealed, Blaze couldn't determine the size of his wound. If it was from today then it had occurred early on in their training session; the blood had dried and affixed to his fur, making a mixture of rusty-orange and black stain in his fur. If the mark was that big then the wound had to be smaller, it likely bordered on being insignificant, but...

"I can't tell how big it is. I'm going to clean it off," Blaze decided, determined to return at least a fraction of his affection, "If this stings just say."

"Oh, alright. Thank you Blaze," He responded, still entirely unaware, "Does it look bad?"

"I think you're fine, I just..." She couldn't bring herself to admit her irrational actions, "Want to make sure, it's better to be safe than sorry."

She swore there was a smile on the edge of his muzzle, her eyes quickly flickered to the bedsheets as she blindly fumbled her way to the basin. Finding the cloth, she rang it dry as she tried to steady herself. Now that she'd started there was no stopping; she had to tend him just like he had tended her.

Her free hand, her left hand, found his shoulder; her forearm pushed his quills aside. She tried to keep her grasp gentle, first dabbing around the stain's edge before slowly working her way inward. It wouldn't take much to wash away the blood and dirt, he hadn't bled that much. Unsure whether she was or would hurt him, unwilling to cause him even the slightest pain, Blaze found herself being reflexively tender. That wasn't to say she wasn't trying to be gentle of course, every movement was wipe and swab was calculated, but this was an unnatural tenderness. It didn't take long for her left hand to drift. Without a word she let it slip down to hold his collarbone. Her fingertips found themselves in the scruff of his fur, gently swirling that excess fluffiness before taking a stronger grip.

It didn't take long to clean him up (Blaze, admittedly, spent longer washing his back than she really needed to) and reveal his injury. The cut was tiny, no longer than the tip of her thumb and only half as wide. To her, it looked more like he'd tripped and hit his back on something than had it sliced by one of Iblis' minions. It wouldn't take long to heal; as long as they managed to eat he'd be fine.

What was she going to do next though? Could she really justify plastering such a tiny wound? Was this the end of her gentleness? The fluttering in her chest didn't want it to be, she didn't want it to be. She hadn't proved nearly enough. If it was a waste, then it would be a purposeful one.

"Pass me the bandages," She finally managed to ask but she couldn't bring herself to lie, "It looks fine but I want to keep you safe. I won't let it get infected."

Even though she'd managed to be gentle, her bedside manner was still atrocious; it sounded like she was reprimanding him. Regardless of that though, Silver complied; a roll of bandages was passed over his shoulders and she caught sight of his face. His eyes were still so bright and his expression was so very gentle, a small smile that read as a thank you for helping him... not that there was actually all that much to help with. Still, it made her successful effort feel that little bit more special and gave her a drive to excel at this pointless endeavour.

As he turned back around though, she realised how long they'd held eye contact. Her blush returned, she caught her tail to keep it from lashing and couldn't help but curse beneath her breath. He wasn't feeling any of this, she was almost sure of it. She had to be gentle, she had to be intimate and she had to show that she cared. Blaze bit her lip, unrolled the bandage and prepared to work.

His fur was so inviting. As Blaze considered the length she needed, she couldn't help but draw closer and change their position ever so slightly. Rather than kneel behind him, Blaze allowed her thighs to part and her knees to shift just beyond his behind; if she so desired, she could pull him backwards and into a hug. Well, she did desire that, it was a matter of whether she could act on that desire. The intent of this position was to look over his shoulder and at her work, to knot the bandages properly (or so she told herself). Curiously though, this change in her position did prompt a change in Silver's disposition. As she drew close, her warm breath likely reaching him, she watched as his shoulders stiffened and swore she saw him half-glance back at her.

Trying not to dwell on that change for too long, the feline got comfortable and stretched the bandage to its correct length; long enough to be taught around his centre but not uncomfortably tight. The bandage was placed over the tiny scab and her hands found his hips. She leaned in, bringing her head to hang over his shoulder, and granting her a full view of his body. Blaze didn't dare look at his face, the distance couldn't be more than a handful of centimetres. Instead, she focused on gently fulfilling her task; the end of the roll in one hand and the roll itself in the other.

The backs of her fingers gently glided through his fur, bringing the white fabric with them. His fluff was soft to the touch, deserving of all the delicacy Blaze could muster. With as gentle a hand as she could manage, she began to bind his body. The bandage looped around his midsection, her fingertips dragged through his fur and (far faster than she'd hoped) the bandage looped its way around his body. Well, she still had more than enough length of bandage; Blaze opted to circle his body a second time. She aimed a little higher this time, drawing the linen half-over the initial line and allowing it to cross his belly again. This world was so rough but everything about him was soft, his fur was far from immaculate but she couldn't help loving the feeling of his overgrown fluff dragging against her silky fur. Whenever her fingers passed over a scar, new or old, she took a moment to pause atop it and gently caress it with her fingertips. He had so many but she knew them all so well.

Throughout the entire endeavour, it was as though Silver was frozen. His breath had hitched, she felt his body tense as her arms wrapped around him and her fingers danced through his fur. He had to be feeling what she so often felt; she hoped he'd realised how much she cherished him.

Two bindings were all she could justify though, any more than that and he'd surely notice her stalling. Well, maybe not but she'd already wasted far too many materials on a very insignificant injury. With a swipe of her claws the roll was cut, Blaze began to securely bind the bandage but tried to keep a light hand while doing so. The material was fastened near his right hip, a gentle tug made sure the dressing was properly tight.

Swaddling him had been fun, she felt that she'd shown some gentleness at the very least, but something about it all felt anticlimactic. The feline remained behind him, pulling back and allowing her fingers to trace around the rim of the gauze and arrive at the small of his back once again. Her gaze finally returned to his quills, they were still so unkempt.

Before Blaze could question what she was doing, her hands had left his back and found their way to his quills. She didn't have a brush to hand but that didn't seem to stop her, her fingers found the base of his quills and she began to stroke them back into their proper places. Her impromptu grooming seemed to surprise him, she felt a shiver run down his spine, but he held still and allowed her to do as he pleased. Eventually, as she found herself leaning into her work, Blaze couldn't help noticing that a pink hue had climbed to the tip of his ears and that his tail was slowly wagging. It was relaxing, the more she tended him the easier this all seemed. There wasn't some grand transformation in her demeanour, it wasn't as though Blaze was no longer herself, she was simply... relaxed. Hidden from his eyes, working quietly, she'd managed to achieve a gentleness she'd never thought possible. It wasn't as much as she'd hoped but it was an undeniable start; it was reactionary gentleness.

A clawed hand drifted down to find the hedgehog's chest fur, that soft fluff deserved to be groomed just as his quills did. She leaned further forward, burying her forehead against the back of his head. Words accidentally spiralled from her lips, "If you won't take better care of yourself then I will. You deserve the same tenderness that you show me..." Purrs were bubbling from her chest again, her hands stopped moving as she came to simply hold him. She sighed and honesty floated to the surface, "You deserve a lot more than I can give you..."

There was a pause but, before she could think of anything else to say, she felt his hand reach up to hold the back of hers, "Y-Y-You..." His stutter seemed to surprise him more than it did her. She felt him swallow, "You look after me and I'll look after you. Do as much as you can and I'll do the same. You're doing more than enough, Blaze. Th-Thank you."

Maybe she'd manage to do this again, maybe next time she'd managed to get across her true feelings. Blaze wasn't willing to gable on maybes, not yet at least, but seeing she could be so tender had gone a long way. Perhaps there was hope for her yet. Perhaps one day she'd managed to channel that kindness into something more but, for now, she was just happy to be holding him in her arms; successfully transmitting her affection. It'd cost some blood, a few pints of water and some bandages, but it'd all been worth it to feel him tense beneath her soft touch. She loved to make him feel how he made her feel.

[she-is-tim]

I love hating you | Elu enemies to lovers AU | Chapter 6.5

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Lucas is an angry, closeted and frustrated gay teenager, while Eliott is the handsome, smart and popular guy in school. They hate each other… but not forever.

 There will be Angst in this one too, so just careful with the reading.

This is the best for both of us

His living room smelled like the backroom of a night club now. Air filled with smoke, making his eyes burn even more. His tears stopped somewhere around the second joint, leaving dried traces on his face as reminders. He let out a deep sigh with a load of smoke and put the cigarette into the ashtray. This was the last one, which meant that he had to smoke actual cigarettes. But where did he put those? He looked around in the living room, his head hanging upside down from the couch’s armrest. He could only hope that his sister didn’t find it and took it with herself. 

His limbs felt heavy, his head dizzy thanks to the weed, but all he felt deep inside was numbness, eating its way to his heart. He couldn’t forget Lucas’ face as he left his apartment. He was crying, but he moved like he wasn’t even here. Eliott knew that feeling too well, but he couldn’t let himself into this. He got hurt so many times and Lucas proved him that he can’t trust Eliott, can’t trust his feelings towards him. It was the most painful thing he had ever done in his life. Letting go the person he loved more than anything. He was watching Lucas from afar for so long, wishing to change the boy’s anger into friendship or even more than that. He couldn’t believe it when they kissed, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever experienced. 

He shook his head, closing his eyes angrily, trying to push back the memories deep into his mind. Even smoking didn’t help him forget all those things they had done together. He hated that. His whole apartment reminded himof Lucas. The kitchen, the bathroom, the living room... He couldn’t sleep in his own bed since days now, because his pillow still smelled like him. He could just wash the sheets and everything, but as much as he wanted to get rid of the memories, a little piece of him were holding onto Lucas so hard, he wasn’t able to do it. So he just avoided his bed and only went inside when he needed clothes. 

His phone was buzzing on the coffee table, but he didn’t wanted to see who is calling. It was either Sofiane or Lucille. He knew he wouldn’t be able to talk with them. Not without making them worried, which would mean they will be coming over. Eliott just wanted to be alone, drowning in sorrows. His mind was somewhere in a really dark place. 

When he got annoyed, feeling his blood boiling under his skin, he got up and grabbed the ashtray, throwing it across the room. Thankfully it was made of a hard material, only cracking a little when it met with the wall, ash and cigarette butts covering the floor around it. Eliott opened the window to let out all that smoke and get some fresh air without leaving the place. He was mad at himself. More than ever before. He wanted to give a chance to him and Lucas so badly, but he couldn’t. 

During the weekend with Lucas his deepest wish was to tell his secret, to let it out and make sure the boy knows what he has to deal with when things get serious. Now he was glad he didn’t tell him, it would wreck him completely to hear that Lucas doesn’t want him because of his illness. It’s better like this, letting him go, telling him about his bipolarity after they split up. He would be lying if he’d say it was easy. He was always scared when it came to that topic. He lost most of his friends, even his girlfriend after he got diagnosed. Only Sofiane and Idriss stayed with him. He couldn’t wish for better friends, honestly. They were supportive, ready to learn about his illness and help him through the dark phases. But sometimes they couldn’t help. Sometimes it just got so bad that no one could drag him out until it was over. 

He felt fresh tears streaming down on his cheeks, making him even more angry. It was always like this, during depressed times he got mad easily, saying things to his loved ones he would have never said. His mind were fucked, ignoring any kind of sense, just letting the anger drive it. He looked at his phone, it was buzzing again. Ignoring it would be better, but he saw Lucille’s name on it, so he dragged himself to the table and picked up the call.

“Eliott, thank god! Why aren’t you answering my messages? I was worried.” she said, sounding just like their mother. Eliott sighed, letting the cold breeze freshing his body.

“I don’t wanna talk right now.” he said quietly, voice completely hoarse thanks to the amount of weed he smoked and the crying.

“What is going on? You’re having an episode?” she asked now even more worried than before.

“Lucille, just leave me alone!” he said, raising his voice a little. He had no patience for this bullshit right now. Can’t he just lay down on the couch and wait for the end? He didn’t wanted this, he wanted Lucas, but it was impossible.

“Eliott, listen here, I am your sister and I’m just...” 

He had enough, hung up on his sister and threw the phone on the couch, kicking into the coffee table. He ignored the pain that spread in his feet. Even that was better than the aching in his chest. The voice in his head was screaming Lucas’ name over and over again. 

He didn’t remember when he fell asleep, but he woke up laying half on the couch, half on the floor. His back was hurting like a bitch, just like his neck. This wasn’t the ideal bed for such a tall person like him, but he couldn’t care less. Walking to the kitchen was fairly easy this time, the force that was pulling him down yesterday seemed to be almost gone. He made himself a strong coffee, then lit a cigarette. He wasn’t hungry at all, being sure that if he would force anything down, it wouldn’t stay long. 

After he had his little morning routine, he walked back to the living room, sitting on the couch. He had to get up for a second, since he felt something under his butt. It was his phone, still being where he threw it last night. He sighed, putting on the table, not even bothering to check his messages or missed calls. As he lit another cigarette, putting it between his lips, he grabbed a sketchbook and a pencil, starting to draw. It was his only way to let out his emotions without talking to anyone. Art was his way to speak into the world.

Hours passed, the living room floor was covered with crumpled papers. Eliott was crying again, throwing the sketchbook away and curling up on the couch. He couldn’t stop drawing that crying hedgehog, like his brain tried to make him feel guilty. It required a lot of self control to not pick up his phone and call Lucas immediately, begging him to come back. He was the only one that could ease this pain, but Eliott was sure that the boy could never handle his bipolarity. Especially not these days when he was mad, sad and just not himself. He can’t let Lucas suffer even more. It was already painful enough knowing that he got bullied in school because of him. 

He fell asleep on the couch yet again, but this time he had a dream. A dream that showed him moments from his past. It hurt him, but at least he could see Lucas again. That adorable face of his, with that sweet haircut.

Eliott walked into school, he wasn’t really in the mood to talk to anyone, but he had to put on a fake smile. The worst side of being tall and handsome is that girls will always find the way to cross your path, even if you try to avoid them. And Eliott tried his very best for sure, but the girls in this school were like octopuses, sticking to him without letting him breathe. 

“Good morning, Eliott!” jumped in front of him a very, very blonde and smiley girl. He tried to remember her name, he really did, but at this state of mind, he couldn’t give any fucks. 

“Hey!” he said, trying not to sound as bored and frustrated as he actually felt. 

“I was wondering if you wanted to join us to the first common room meeting.” she said, handing him a little leaflet. It was really well made, pretty background, readable letters and just nicely put together. Eliott took it and stuffed in his pocket without reading it. 

“I’ll see if I have time.” he mumbled and walked past the girl now. 

As he stepped into the building, he saw him, that beautiful boy. He was packing his books into his locker, not realizing that Eliott watched him, so he used his chance to check him out. He was short, looking almost like a kid with that spikey haircut. He had a pretty face and Eliott couldn’t imagine how soft his skin could be. But the thing that catched his attention were those bright blue eyes. He felt like this boy wasn’t even real. How can one human being has such unnaturally bright blue eyes? Like the ocean. And Eliott was ready to jump into it and swim around. 

He got stratled when someone smacked his back with a loud “Hey, dude”. He was ready to punch that person right in the face, but his eyes met with Alex, his school friend. This guy could be a bit annoying and sometimes as smart as the rock on the bottom of the ocean, but Eliott liked his company. They got closer after his best friend, Charles went off to London with his girlfriend. 

“Morning, dude.” Eliott replied with a small, but this time totally honest smile. 

“Oh, hey, Lucas!” Alex yelled now and walking past Eliott went right to the short boy. He got really pissed now. He was aware of that they were friends, but it still made him mad that Alexandre could just walk up to Lucas, have a handshake and be all cool with it. And the way Lucas smiled at him was not helping him calm down. That sweet, toothy grin was something Eliott could kill people for.

“Alex! You’re gonna be late.” he yelled a bit too angrily, walking to his friend and grabbing his arm, avoiding to look at the short boy. He would get soften from those big blue eyes. It was best to avoid awkward situations like that.

“Damn, you are really grumpy today, huh?” Alex said, raising an eyebrow and still not moving from Lucas, who was holding a book to his chest. 

“Just go, Alex. I don’t wanna see your asshole friend anyways.” Lucas said suddenly, his words spreading like venom in Eliott’s chest. Yeah, he kept forgetting that his crush hated his guts.

“Not like I wanna talk to someone who can barely peek through grass.” Eliott spit out suddenly, cursing inside his head for saying such things, but he couldn’t help it. “I’m shocked they let you in without supervision.” 

“What did you just say?!” Lucas huffed, sounding really angry. Eliott looked at his face now, he was frowning, his hair reaching straight up to the ceiling. He looks like a cute hedgehog. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you have hearing problems.” he said now, playful grin appearing on his face. Maybe he can just tease him like this, having a little fun and still staying away. 

“Okay, calm down, Lucas!” Alex said, stepping inbetween them. Eliott was a bit disappointed, he would love to see Lucas coming at him. Like a baby hedgehog.

“Yeah, I don’t want you to get hurt, little one.” Eliott said, fueling the anger in Lucas even more, but Alex turned around and grabbed his arm now.

“Come on, Eliott. We’re going.” he said now seriously and pulled him away, making sure that he stays between the boys as they leave.

Eliott looked behind him as he got farther from his sweet crush. Lucas smashed close his locker and leant to it, looking really upset still, and it really hurt the tall boy’s heart to see him like this. He wanted to run back and hold him in his arms until he smiles again, but it was impossible. Not just because the boy hated him, but because he can’t let himself fall in love again. His heart broke once, it can’t happen again. No one can love him. He was crazy, not able to make someone happy.

Eliott’s eyes opened so quickly, he started to feel dizzy and almost fell off the couch. His head hurt, so did his chest still. He felt a tiny bit hungry, so he walked to the kitchen, making some toast. It was just so exhausting to grab two slices of bread and put them in the toaster, waiting for it to be ready. Minutes went like slow hours. His brain was spinning around, keep showing him Lucas’ face. His soft smile, his messy hair in the morning, his ocean eyes. He could remember his smell like he was standing right there in front of him. 

He noticed that the toaster made a little noise, shooting out the roasted bread slices. He grabbed one and started to slowly much on it. It had no taste, like he was eating ash, but his body needed some food, so he ate both slices. He could feel sweat covering him, his face felt weird from all the dried tears, so it was time to take a shower. 

Every step was an eternity, it took him long minutes to take off his clothes and stand into the shower. He turned on the water, letting the warm drops soaking his body. Everything felt so numb. He closed his eyes to protect him from the water, not moving to get the shower gel or anything. He eventually got out when he was feeling cold. Grabbing a towel and wrapping around himself. He looked in the mirror, not recognizing the face he saw there. Dark cirles around his eyes, the bruise on his left cheek seeming blue-greenish, skin pale and looking thin like paper, his hair more chaotic than ever, water dripping from it. 

He sighed, closing his eyes and falling to the bathroom floor. The pain in his bones resonated with the aching in his heart. He pulled up his knees, wrapping his arms around them, crying uncontrollably. His body was shaking from cold and the gapsing between ugly sobs. 

He was in his bed now, hearing noises from far away. He slowly opened his eyes, feeling like the sun is blinding him. He turned away from the window, looking at the door of his room. Lucille was stading there, arms crossed, eyebrows frowned. She looked both mad and worried, it was her speciality to show those emotions at once. Eliott groaned, knowing that he won’t have a free minute without her supervision.

“Don’t groan at me, Eliott Demaury!” she said, walking to the bed. “I’m here to help my stupid brother and that’s what I get?” 

“I didn’t ask for your help.” he mumbled, pulling the blanket over his head.

“Well, you have to deal with it, because I’m not going anywhere.” she said seriously. “Sofiane and Idriss are worried themselves sick. They called me five times today just to know if you’re okay.” she sighed, it was kinda reassuring that his friends still cared even if he was completely ignoring them. “Sofiane told me about the boy. What is his name? Isak?” 

“Lucas.” he mumbled from under the blanket. 

“Yeah, Lucas. He told me what he heard. I can’t believe you got yourself into this again.” 

“Can you shut the hell up?” He yelled now, pushing off the blanket, looking furiously at his sister. “I don’t need your lecture right now, Lucille!” 

“Oh really?” she raised her eyebrows. “Look where it got you. Being a mess yet again.” 

“I can’t fucking help it! I’m not controlling my damn heart, you know! I tried to stay away! I really tried, but I couldn’t. I screwed up.” he said, voice getting quieter with each word, eyes filling up with tears again.

“Oh, Eliott...” she sighed and walked to the bed, sitting next to her brother, pulling him into her arms. Eliott took a deep breath, burying his face into her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist. Her hands were slowly running up and down on his back, helping him to calm down a little. 

They stayed like this for long minutes before Eliott laid back on the bed. His sister tried to make him eat something, but he wasn’t hungry at all. His body was craving for sleep, but his mind just couldn’t stop. He was laying there, eyes half open, suffering from Lucas’ smell that was sticking to his pillow like a stubborn stain. 

It was friday morning, he forced himself to go to school, since he was feeling fairly okay yesterday. He hoped that none of the girls wants to talk to him this time. He was feeling like shit and not ready to even see a glimpse of Lucas. But he couldn’t miss too much days, or he would have to repeat the year. It was already hard for him to start over his first year at a brand new school, but since he basically had an episode in front of his class, he couldn’t stay there. People were laughing at him, making fun of his breakdown. If it weren’t for Sofiane and Idriss, he probably would have killed himself then and there. It was just too much.

He walked to the school yard, people were talking, laughing even, but he could hear some whispers and some students carefully glancing at him. He ignored them, trying to make it to his locker without freaking out. They are staring because of the incident with Lucas. They don’t know about your illness. They don’t know. 

He was standing at his locker, his body moving on its own, packing books in his bag and out of his bag automatically. He got scared when someone tapped his shoulder gently. He looked behind, eyes meeting the worried face of Alex. He studied Eliott’s face, spending long time to examine the bruise on his cheek, then he started talking. 

“Are you okay, dude?” he asked softly, putting a hand on Eliott’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, of course.” he said, voice sounding so robotic and fake, but that was all he could force out of himself. 

“Listen, if you need someone to talk to, I am here.” he said seriously, squeezing his shoulder a little and then letting go. “Breakups are tough shit, but you will manage it.” 

“Everyone knows about it, huh?” he asked, surprising Alex with the sudden bitterness. 

“Pretty much, yeah. Whoever took that picture made sure that everyone sees it.” he said honestly and got startled when Eliott slammed his fist into the lockers. “Bro, calm down...”

“What about Lucas?” he asked, hoping that Alex knows anything.

“He’s pretty fucked up, he doesn’t talk to anyone, not coming to eat at lunch break... But he had been to school everyday.” he said, shrugging a little. “People try to pick on him, but when they noticed that Lucas is not listening to them they stopped.” 

“Good. Good.” he mumbled to himself. 

“Listen, dude, I know Lucas can be too much. Hitting you was pretty shitty of him, since you had nothing to do with those damn pictures, but he cares about you a lot. I’ve never seen him being so down before...” 

“This is much more complicated than that, Alex.” he said seriously, looking into his friend’s eyes. “I’m doing this for the both of us.” 

And he had to believe that this is the best for him and Lucas. They could never be happy together. The boy couldn’t trust him even when he gave him his whole heart, and he couldn’t trust Lucas not to leave him after he sees him at his worst state. This was safe, less painful. Cutting things off before it gets too serious. This is the best for both of us.

Okay, I hope you guys liked this short chapter from Eliott’s POV. I am sorry that it’s full of angst again, it will be better soon, but I felt like I had to write this to make it clear that not just Lucas, but Eliott is hurting too. His decision was the best for them, at least he thinks it was. Feel free to leave any comment about this, I always love to read your reactions to my new chapters.

Bisous

[crusherthedoctor]

Sonic Villains: Sweet or Shite? - Part 10: INFINITE

There are some villains I like. And there are some villains I don’t like. But why do I feel about them the way I do? That’s where this comes in.

This is a series of mine in which I go into slightly more detail about my thoughts on the villains in the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise, and why I think they either work well, or fall flat (or somewhere in-between). I’ll be giving my stance on their designs, their personalities, and what they had to show for themselves in the game(s) they featured in. Keep in mind that these are just my own personal thoughts. Whether you agree or disagree, feel free to share your own thoughts and opinions! I don’t bite. :>

Anyhow, for today’s installment, we’ll be sharpening our blades and resisting the pain as we discuss what it takes to be the right-hand henchman of Sonic Forces: Infinite.

The Gist: Dr. Eggman was minding his evildoing business when one day, from thin air emerged a particularly strange jewel that seemed to be drawn to him. Realising this was no mere Chaos Emerald, due to both its peculiar shape and its bizarre reality-distorting effects, Eggman immediately contemplated how he could effectively utilise this new gemstone for his purposes.

Suddenly, jackals!

“Go forth, Red Shirts!”

Eggman's base was under attack by the imaginatively titled Jackal Squad, a group of thieving mercenaries who figured they could profit from the theft of the doctor's equipment. Unfortunately for them, Eggman had Main Character Immunity, so their efforts to kill him send him to the Shadow Realm fell flat. Despite nearly getting killed by them, Eggman knew an opportunity when he saw one, and he offered the role of apprenticeship to the squad's heterochromia-inflicted leader. His fellow jackals insisted not to take up the offer, because even they knew the risks, but the leader signed up immediately, because he's not all right in the head if you know what I'm saying.

In a cruel twist of fate, Eggman's first request for his new stooges was for them to take care of Shadow the Hedgehog. That Shadow the Hedgehog. Ultimate Lifeform Shadow the Hedgehog. Fast, immortal, capable of stopping time, drops his bracelets to grow even stronger Shadow the Hedgehog. They had to defeat that Shadow the Hedgehog.

They did not succeed.

BOOOONESAAAAAW’S READYYYYYYYY

After metaphorically and literally murdering the rest of the already forgotten squad, Shadow gave some parting words to their defeated leader, and those parting words were responsible for what happened next, and everything after. As someone who prided himself on being the ultimate mercenary, Mr. Jackal was bloody well peeved off about coming to terms with his physical shortcomings, and thus decided to give himself an upgrade in the form of sticking a gem on his chest, putting on a mask worthy of a heavy metal cover, and rechristening himself as... Infinite. Infinite power. Infinite possibilities. Infinite memes.

The upgrade paid off. With the aid of the gem, known to us as the Phantom Ruby, Eggman's latest minion was able to distort the environment, summon past foes, and do what no other villain not retconned out of existence had ever managed to achieve: defeat Sonic the Hedgehog.

Eggman was delighted. The past foes were delighted too, as evidenced by how they stood there to take it all in.

This is a very sentimental moment for them.

With Sonic out of the way, Eggman was able to take over 99% of the planet, because Sonic's friends were tragically all on holiday at the same time. During the subsequent six months of suffering and strife, Infinite relished in the doctor's conquest, but not as much as he relished in killing and terrorizing innocents. One incident in particular involved him leaving behind a scared youngster for the sake of letting them know fear. This would turn out to be a big mistake on his part, when - with the ever reliable power of friendship - said youngster would go on to oppose him as part of the Resistance. (This franchise isn't known for creative group names.)

“L’Oreal: Because I’m not weak.”

The formerly incapacitated Sonic also managed to eventually break free from his captivity, and proceeded to do what he does best alongside his new friend. Infinite was having none of this, and so he made absolutely certain to... leave him alive. Despite Eggman's insistence that a freed Sonic could cause as much trouble as a freed Sonic could in every other situation since 1991, Infinite remained confident that he couldn't be beaten. Three guesses for how that turned out. The first two don't count.

He was serious about crushing the Resistance though, and together with Eggman, not only did they summon a whole army of clones, they also summoned an artificial sun that, upon reaching the ground, would ensure the Resistance would meet a terrible fate. Good always triumphs however, and the clones were fought, the sun was vanquished, and Infinite himself was defeated once and for all.

It was at this point that Eggman decided to reveal that Infinite was a sham, a distraction, a red herring. For all his power, Infinite was little more than a glorified mook the whole time. Infinite was never the doctor's endgame. He was. Infinite didn't even have true mastery over the Phantom Ruby... but he did.

Death Chad Robot.

In just a few minutes, Eggman tapped into the power of the Ruby more than Infinite ever did, and overclocked it to turn his Doc Ock-looking mech into a beast. But through thick and thin (and a second Nega-Wisp Armor), Sonic and his ambiguously named friend teamed up to take the madman down, because we're Sonic Heroes.

The world was saved from further tyranny, and Eggman went on to either lose his memory or shrug it off to take part in racing spinoffs depending on the continuity. But Infinite - or rather, the jackal who called himself Infinite - remains absent. He could be alive. He could be dead. He could finally get a haircut. His fate is a mystery that we may never know the answer to. Maybe he's spending his retirement climbing the tallest of mountains.

The Design: Careful you don't cut yourself with all this edge.

You could have gotten yourself an eyepatch for half the price.

Demonic eyes, dark colours, anime hair... he's a villain alright. Infinite's design is unashamed of itself. It knows it's ridiculous, and it goes all out with it, which - let's be frank - matches the character in general pretty reasonably. Funnily enough, I don't have much else to say about it. It's not my favourite character design in the world, but I can credit them for pioneering loudspeaker ears. And at least he's not a hedgehog. Or an echidna.

If you listen carefully, you can hear Shadow sighing in relief under the knowledge that he's no longer the edgiest guy in the room.

The Personality: What's an easy way to make a villain a villain? By making them pointlessly sadistic, of course.

"You may call this the Sonic Chronicles soundtrack... in the brief moments that remain to your eardrums."

And I don't speak lightly when I say pointless. Infinite's penchant for sadism is actually treated as a character flaw, as it contributes heavily to his ultimate downfall. He wastes time by drawing out his kills, and his decision to leave his greatest foes alive because they're supposedly "not worth killing" bites him in the ass on more than one occasion. Even Eggman calls him out on his shitty decisions.

"Don't get cocky with me, son. This ain't the Adventure Era anymore.”

And this ties in with how he is in general. Infinite, for all his delusions of grandeur and nihilistic waxing, is a bit of a fuck up. Him and his squad combined couldn't even take on Eggman on his own (albeit with a Phantom Ruby in his possession), and when the mask comes on, it becomes clear that he only defeated Sonic through the element of unfamiliarity. Once Sonic starts to know about him and fights him for real, Infinite doesn't rely on the Phantom Ruby nearly as well as he could. He has a jewel that can do all sorts of distortions, and all he can think to do with it is use basic lasers and blasts for the most part. He's a thug at the end of the day. A powerful thug, but a thug all the same.

Despite this, though it's only hinted here and there, it seems that he has an Inferiority Superiority Complex. His passionate response to Shadow calling him pathetic (ironically, he never actually said he was weak) goes without saying, but then there's his dramatic speeches about having no hope, and how you can't count on anyone, and blah blah blah eat a Snickers already.

The Execution: Much like Erazor Djinn, you may have gathered that this character has a lot in common with everyone's favourite Ice Age antique, Mephiles the Dark. Like Erazor, Infinite is a better (albeit flawed) take on Mephiles' schtick, but whereas Erazor better emulates the success that Mephiles tried to go for, Infinite better represents the failure that Mephiles actually is... right down to showing how Silver would react if he had actual brain cells.

Above: Character development.

Hell, they both share the fate of getting swatted by Omega.

Not bitter at all.

Anyway, to explain this requires some elaboration. I'm aware that a lot of what I've said about Infinite sounds negative, and that's not entirely untrue, since I'll be the first to admit that he could have been handled a little better, and fleshed out a bit more, especially with all the pre-release hype and attention he was given. At the same time however, he's still leagues above the likes of Mephiles, for one simple reason that we discussed previously: his incompetence is intentional.

Maybe not fully - the pre-Infinite breakdown probably wasn't meant to be as comedic as it ended up being - but you can't tell me his setbacks weren't there on purpose. Eggman lost the war because Infinite left his enemies alive and free. Eggman lost the war because Infinite clumsily left a Phantom Ruby replica behind. Eggman lost the war because Infinite kept messing around when he had better things to do, didn't know what to do other than blindly attack when the chips were down, and got disposed of with little fanfare by the doctor after having failed him enough times. Compare all this to Eggman himself in the same game, who despite being known for his childishness and occasional shortsightedness, had a lot of genuine foresight to share around, and went from backup plan to backup plan like it was nothing.

In other words, Infinite could be seen as a well-needed deconstruction of villains like Mephiles, and why they're not as great as they look at first glance. And in that respect, he's kind of a genius concept.

“Ugh, MORE shitty friends...”

Infinite is a very divisive character, and I can see why. Alongside his far from perfect execution, many fans were expecting and hoping for a straight example of late 00's Sonic villains, in part because that's what the marketing and his infamous theme song set him up as and partly because '06 is now considered better than everything afterwards because Baldy McNosehair is literally oppressing all Sonic fans across the world. If you're like me on the other hand, and don't have the slightest unironic interest in those kind of villains, you can probably respect Infinite a little more for addressing the elephant in the room. And even though he is indeed flawed, I think most of that has to do with the wasted potential of the plot itself rather than anything inherently to do with Infinite's own character.

He's no Eggman, Erazor, Metal Sonic, or Hard-Boiled Heavies. But he's above Mephiles, Black Doom, Eggman Nega, and so many others who blend together after a while. Still, maybe someone should assist Shadow the next time he decides to insult somebody.

Crusher Gives Infinite a: Thumbs Sideways!

[veryangryhedgehog]

“In Which a Mysterious Force is Given a Character, But not yet a Face”, an Ede Valley story by Hedgehog.

The Director was angry. Well, maybe angry wasn’t the right word, per say. When you had seen as much as she had, when you had been as patient as she had, it was hard to get truly angry. Bitter, frustrated maybe, but not angry.

How had she gotten to this point so quickly when the day had started out so well? She had risen from slumber with a large smile on her face; the new semester had started as St. Adelaide’s, many new students had arrived, and the next phase of her project was about to begin. The morning announcements had gone well as always. The bit of intrigue she held over the students’ heads always made her slightly giddy. But then there had been the meeting with the School Board.

When she had first founded St. Adelaide’s, more than forty years ago, now, she and she alone had controlled the school and everything that went on inside it. Unfortunately, the money had begun to dry up rather quickly and the Director had been forced to acquire investors. She had tried to maintain control for as long as she could, but in this world, money oftentimes carried more weight than deeds, and so, the School Board had been formed.

But the suits—as she called them—didn’t understand her, or her obsessive drive for science. All they saw were tables and focus groups and dollar signs. Frankly, it was beginning to make her rather grumpy.

“My father didn’t give his life for this project j-just to see it get thrown by the wayside!” She banged her fists on the long, skinny table, standing from her chair.

“We do not mean to offend your father’s memory,” the Head Suit replied patiently, using that calm, condescending voice one often employed when talking to young children. People tended to treat her that way a lot when they first met her face to face, underestimating her age and intelligence based on appearance alone. “But Project Paragon has yet to yield any profitable results.”

“No results?” The Director’s eyes flared. “No results? I’m living proof of what the Project is capable of.”

“And yet, you refuse access to these ‘results’ to anyone!” The Head Suit shook his head, exasperated.

One of the Lesser Suits leaned forward now as well. He was a young man, a go-getter, someone people claimed was going to “run the world someday”. The thought of this child in charge of anything scared the Director more than she could say. “Think of the advances for technology, for society we can create with your research,” he ventured, hoping to appeal to her sense of humanity.

The Director just laughed. It was a frightening thing, that laugh, one that could not belong to any wholly sane person. It sent shivers down the Suits’ spines. “Are you kidding me?” She gasped after a solid minute. ‘Advances for society? Nonsense! You just want to steal what’s rightfully mine and sell it. You don’t care about advances or consequences.” Several Suits made to protest, but the Director had spent far too much time dealing with their kind to fall for any of their honeyed words. “My research is not yet complete. Who knows what could happen if presented to the masses. And besides, there’s so much more to discover than your tiny minds are capable of comprehending. I will not allow the future to be ‘commercialized’.” She shuddered.

“Unfortunately,” the Head Suit attempted to regain control, “you are no longer solely in charge of the affairs of this academy. Now while I cannot legally demand you hand over all of your research, I can drain all the funds which you’ve been putting towards Project Paragon until which point the academy possesses the means to fund such an extensive study. I can guarantee you that that will not be for a very long time.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“We would.” The other suits nodded in agreement.

The Director had to clench her fists to keep herself from strangling his smug, pretentious face with his stupid tie. She fumed as her face grew red. But anger wouldn’t solve anything, she knew that. She ought to, after all these years. Anger led to a loss of control, and that was the last thing she needed right now.

“Then there’s nothing more to say.” Without waiting for a response, the Director strode from the room. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her frustration.

As she fled to her sanctuary, the Director struggled to conceal her rage from the students and faculty that roamed the halls of St. Adelaide’s. None of them knew who she really was, at least, and she wanted to keep it that way. It was imperative to Project Paragon’s success that she blend in; it was the only true way to scope out potential candidates, and to get accurate test results.

Finally, she slammed the large doors of her sanctuary behind her and breathed deeply. This was the only place she felt truly relaxed. It was dark and quiet, and heavy, like a warm blanket. The Director weaved her way through the general clutter and dropped heavily behind her desk. She sighed, drumming her long, spider-like fingers along the wood grain. Why now of all times had the Suits decided to pull the plug? Just when she was so close to the final stage, just as the perfect candidate for Project Paragon had come to St. Adelaide’s. But she steeled herself. There was no sense in wallowing in misery. There was a way out of this, there had to be. And if there was any place she would think of it, it was here.

Patience, spoke the Truth in her mind. Remember that even one tiny push can bring a whole system to its knees.

Of course, yes. The Director let out the air she was holding as the inkling of a plan began to form in the folds of her mind. A butterfly’s wings could cause a storm on the other side of the world, and so too could she rid herself of the Suits and the dollar signs they’d tattooed onto the insides of their eyelids.

But could she really pull it off? If she herself made a singular move, the Suits would pounce on her in an instant. What she needed was a distraction, something to draw their attention while she completed the final phase of the project. After that, the whole charade of a school wouldn’t be necessary anymore.

What could she use? No, better yet, who could she use? The distraction would have to be something big, something no sane person would attempt. She could always use Bailey, she supposed, she had broken him a long time ago. But no, after all of the time she had spent on him, it seemed such a waste to throw him away like this, not when there was still so much she could do to him. He was broken, but not completely twisted apart. Not yet.

She thought for a moment, rummaging around her brain for all of her subjects, and potential subjects, and then stopped. A grin spread across her face, as she wiggled her fingers in excitement. Yes, that was perfect, someone who she’d been saving for a rainy day. That girl’s frustration had been pickling nicely from being locked up in this school for so long, and now it was time to take her demons for a spin.

Yes, the Director laughed to herself. It was all coming together. Her life’s work was nearly complete. Finally, Project Paragon would succeed for real. She would create... perfection.

[adam16bit]

Mega Man!

I remember getting Mega Man. I rented Mega Man 2 after seeing how amazing it looked in Nintendo Power, and remembered seeing some tiny pictures in that original black paperback Official Nintendo Game Player’s Guide.  (You can download it at that link for free.)  The subhead “Trouble in Monsteropolis” made it very easy to ignore when I read about the original game in 1987 - nothing about the box art or the game looked notable in the era of Goonies II, Metroid, and Zelda.  Had Nintendo actually given this a full feature in that book, it’d be obviously worth getting - but it didn’t. 

Like a lot of gamers, I never gave the original game a thought until I read about the sequel... at which point you had to put in some legwork to find a place to sell it to you, since nobody seemed to rent it in Phoenix. I eventually found it at a Lionel PlayWorld in - if memory serves - November 1990.  It was around $35, and arguably worth it.

An NES Classic, not on NES Classic

For whatever reason, Capcom and Nintendo let this one slide.  No real marketing got it in front of kids, and the more you look at the 1980s you realize that anything that was worth anything had only achieved its status  because someone paid a boatload of money to advertise to children.   After the second game came out, the original was basically  buried in the USA - you didn’t see it surface in its original form again until the compilations started in the Xbox/GameCube/Playstation 2 generation.  (It did see rerelease on the Playstation in Japan plus an enhanced version hit the MegaDrive in Europe. The PSP got a cutsey remake as Mega Man Powered Up. And of course downloads on Nintendo’s Virtual Console service from the Wii onward would come of the original.)

Nintendo Power never went back to give it a big look that I ever saw, and it was never rereleased as a “classic.”  Heck, it didn’t even make it to the NES Classic console in 2016 - the sequel did, though.

The game is famous for its box art, and let me assure you that toy companies are very aware of its place in popular culture.  What comes of it will remain to be seen, but that goofy yellow and blue armor with a dopey helmet and stupid knee pads are pretty much what video game box art was in the 8-bit era.   You’d get a nifty painting that only vaguely looks like what you saw on the TV, which is pretty amazing when you look at the Japanese artwork which seems pretty much exactly like what you saw on screen.

The Premise

In the game, an evil mad scientists reprogrammed robots made by a good mad scientist.   Mega Man avoided getting reprogrammed, so he gets to go and kill his brothers and absorb their powers.   Bomb Man, a demolitions robot, gave you bombs.  Guts Man had super strength which was actually really handy - you could pick up and throw parts of the scenery, clearing paths or attacking bad guys.  Cut Man had scissors on his head.  They can’t all be winners.   Fire Man, Ice Man, and Elec Man brought up some fairly standard powers that would get tweaked and brought back in sequels, kicking off an amazing gallery of bosses that sadly has yet to be completely represented in toy form.  (Super7′s MUSCLE line might change this.)

What made this game really amazing at the time was a stage select function - Capcom allowed you to pick which level you wanted to try.  If you sucked at a level, you could try another one until you finally worked your way through one of them.  The power of the boss you defeated would make it easier to kill one of the five remaining bosses, which gave the player a real sense of accomplishment.

It’s also worth noting this game differed greatly from its sequels in the sense that it actually used points to keep score - how quaint - and lacked any sort of password system.  Once you pulled the plug, you had to start over the next time.   As it’s actually only an hour or so worth of gameplay that’s probably for the best, otherwise you’d beat this game when borrowing it for a weekend.

Look & Feel

The music and graphics are still pretty good today, thanks in part to Capcom somehow never actually changing the hero sprite for a whopping 8 out of the 10 numbered games in the series.  The character isn’t merely iconic, he’s a franchise - you can buy hats and shirts with the pixel version of the character.  You can buy brick kits. You can buy models.   An Amiibo.  I’ve got a life-size Mega Man helmet replica on a shelf in the other room... and a Toy Biz figure based on his appearance in the Marvel vs. Capcom fighting game.  The character even scored an Archie comic book, which added some creepy similarities to the blue bomber and Sega’s own Sonic the Hedgehog.  Both are robust franchises with a lot of hits and misses, plus fans that run the gamut from being master trivia buffs, loyal customers, and in fan art circles deeply creepy.   I’ve been forwarded links I can’t unsee.

But that’s all in part to how good these games are - you work your way through a rocky mine, or frozen palm trees in an example of technology gone wild.  The levels of the first game showcase how the six bosses were put in positions to dismantle the very fabric of the areas they were set to govern, bringing with them legions of cybernetic stooges like robot penguins, flying torpedos, and little guys with guns who hide under a yellow hard hat.   These cannon fodder enemies may not be household names like Mario’s foes, but many of them are just as recognizable as anything in any other game series.

You can see that the game owes a lot to what has come before, specifically Astro Boy, but most good culture comes from standing on the shoulders of what has come before.   Zelda owes a lot to American fantasy games.   Metroid’s DNA largely comes from ALIEN and ALIENS.   The same can be said of cartoons and numerous big movie franchises - and the end result is something kids can hold on to for a new generation before someone, hopefully, remixes it again into something even better.   (I would argue pop culture has been bad at doing this since the 1990s.)

I Know You’ve Tried It, But If You Haven’t? Try It.

While Mega Man is a household name, this original game never really given the full push it deserved.  If you have a Nintendo 3DS and $20, I implore you to check your local Toys R Us’ electronics section for the Mega Man Legacy Collection.  It has all 6 NES games and a bunch of extras for $20.  I’ve already played through 1 and 3 - I skipped 2 for now having just played it on the NES Classic - and I have to say the first game really holds up well.  It’s not too hard, it’s not too long, and because it’s on a newer console you can actually save your progress or at the very least, suspend the game and come back to it.

The game has the strange distinction of being where most licensed wares go when Mega Man comes up.  The original cartoon, most remakes, and many toys all draw from this game - which isn’t the one most people know.  They know the sequel, Mega Man 2, because it was a huge seller, massively famous, and without question a better overall game.      You have to start somewhere, though, and this seems to be the place everybody but gamers kick off their relationship with the murderous blue power thief.

Marketing is the reason so many games got to be a big deal - Ninja Gaiden’s a fine title, but the feature (and cover) of Nintendo Power made games like it and Battletoads enormous hits, while a little game like Mega Man just came out at the wrong time when Capcom didn’t give a rip about their ad budget.   (Mickey Mousecapade, though, that made the rounds.)  Capcom would go on to do great things with more visibility, from the legendary DuckTales to the strange but enjoyable Chip & Dale Rescue Rangers to the bafflingly neat Little Nemo: The Dream Master.   Which I think holds the record of the oldest licensed property, but perhaps it was in the public domain by then.  I digress.  Get yourself Mega Man, and if you’ve got the time to try other early Capcom games you’re in for a treat.  I never tried Section Z, for example, until I came across the arcade cabinet for sale for cheap, and it’s great.

[she-is-tim]

Neighbours AU part 3  Apologies

Lucas is a young, exhausted musician who just tries to relax, while Eliott is the overexcited, dubstep loving artist who lives next door.

Aka Lucas confronts his annoying neighbour who turns out to be gorgeous

Part 1, Part 2

Tuesday 16:34

Two days passed since Sunday and Lucas was still not over Eliott. He had high hopes and for that he got hit hard by the ground. He was glad, that his neighbour didn’t try to contact him since or that he haven’t seen him. It would be hard to sand face to face, knowing that he has a girlfriend, knowing that Lucas had false expectations from him. Everything was just a mess right now, he couldn’t touch the piano ever since.

His phone started buzzing like crazy on the coffee table, he was laying on the couch, his right leg touching the floor. He reached for his phone and picked up the call. 

“Hello.” he mumbled. His voice was a bit cracked, not from crying, that would be a stupid thing to do, but because he just got home from work and was talking all day.

“Dude! Hey!” Basile screamed from the other side, Lucas had to keep the phone away from his ear in order to not go deaf. 

“Basile... What do you want?” he asked with a tired voice, he was really not in the mood to listen to his friend’s bullshit. 

“Listen here, there’s gonna be a big party tomorrow night. Yann said you’re not working on Thursday, so you should come too.” he said with a lot of excitement in his voice. “It’s gonna be fun.”

“Bas, you know that I hate going to parties.” 

“You can’t just sit at home and snuggle on the couch, crying after some guy.” he said now seriously, this was unusual from Basile. “That guy doesn’t deserve you.” Lucas smiled a little hearing his silly friend being so nice to him. 

“Okay, I’ll go.” he said.

“YES! Okay, we’ll be meeting at Yann’s tomorrow around 19:00, okay? We’re gonna get so wasted!” he said excitedly, speaking so fast, Lucas barely catched the time. Then Basile just hung up.

Lucas put his phone back to the coffee table and looked at the ceiling. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to go to a party. He haven’t been in any since high school,but hanging out with the gang was always a lot of fun. Besides, he has to forget Eliott, since he’s a lost case anyways.

He got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea, but he noticed something on the floor, in front of the door. He walked there and picked up a carefully folded piece of paper. He unfolded it and his heart skipped a beat. It was a drawing, the paper was split in the middle by a line that was supposed to represent the wall, on the right side there was a raccoon, a sad one actually, looking at the wall nervously, while on the left side was a cute hedgehog sitting at a piano, playing some nice melodies. There were two words on the bottom of the paper. Forgive me

Lucas was staring at it for long minutes before he could move to the kitchen. He put the paper on the counter and turned on the kettle. He kept glancing over where the drawing was. He knew Eliott draws himself as a raccoon, they talked about it on saturday, but he couldn’t get over the fact that he drew him as a hedgehog. When the water got hot, he poured some in a mug, making himself a nice mint and strawberry tea. He left the kitchen, not looking at the drawing this time and flopped down on the couch, turning on his tv, watching some stupid comedy on Netflix.

Tuesday 19:17

He slipped the drawing under the door for Lucas hours ago and he still had no idea what the boy was thinking of it. He was too scared to talk to him, so he tried his best, approaching him by the ony thing he was good at: art. He was thinking about Lucas’ spirit animal since he stepped into his apartment, but this morning he just woke up to the thought that Lucas must be a grumpy hedgehog. His back is spikey, getting scared easily, but actually the most adorable animal that exists. 

Lucille left on Monday, early in the morning, so he was alone ever since. He got better, but he still couldn’t touch his phone or go near his laptop. He was afraid of social interactions for a long time after his anxiety attacks. It wasn’t easy, especially since he should be working on his project. The deadline was coming closer each day. He couldn’t let this chance to slip away because of his stupid mind.

He walked around in the living room, thinking about Lucas. His smell was already gone, which made Eliott feel much more lonely than he used to be. Knowing that the person he desires is right next to you, but you can’t reach him is a really painful thing to think about. His phone dragged him out of these angsty thoughts when it pinged. He reached for it with shaking hands, just to check the message, he didn’t wanted to reply.

From Lucille:  We’re going out tomorrow, 20:00, wear something nice

Fuck.

Wednesday 19:56

The party was loud, it was hosted by one of their high school friend, Alexandre. Lucas noticed a lot of familiar faces, like Emma, Daphné, Imane. The music was bursting so loud, Lucas’ chest was shaking from it, or maybe it was the booze starting to kick in. They had a couple drinks at Yann’s place before they came, just to set the mood for the party.

The living room was emptied to be a perfect dance floor, Lucas was chilling on the couch that was pushed to the wall in the corner, drinking some beer. People seem to have fun, they were yelling, dancing, kissing...

Arthur, Yann and Basile was talking to Alex, who was really happy that they boys came. This party was like a high school reunion, which kinda made Lucas feel better. He liked his high school years, even if it was hard at first. When he accepted his own sexuality, coming out to all of his friends, he got so much support that he was never expecting. It was overwhelming, making him extremely happy. 

Now he was back, but felt like he didn’t belong here. He was a quiet musician, an exhausted adult who never went out to have fun, make out with someone he will never gonna meet again or have one night stands. He wanted love, a significant other by his side and his thoughts went back to saturday, when he was with Eliott. Fuck!

He shook his head and chugged his beer, going for another one in the kitchen. He’s going to get wasted and have fun, not thinking about his neighbour tonight.

Two hours later Lucas was very, very drunk, dancing in the middle of the living room like there’s no tomorrow. He took off his hoodie, leaving it on the couch like 40 minutes ago, now he was only wearing a navy blue shirt and dark grey jeans. Somewhere along the lines he started pressing his body to a really nice looking guy, he wasn’t even close to Eliott’s beauty, but he seemed to like the closeness of Lucas and that was more than enough for him. He wrapped his arms around him, rocking his hips, while rubbing their chest together. 

The guy slid his arms on Lucas’ waist, pulling him closer and kissing his neck a few times. The alcohol hit his head so much, he barely could feel the lips touching his skin. His body was hot, his mind went blank and he just wanted to forget. 

They didn’t needed more than ten minutes to end up making out on the couch, ignoring all the people around them. No one really gave a fuck, since basically everyone was doing the same somewhere in the house. Lucas was too drunk to think straight, so he just went with the flow, letting the guy to kiss him wildly, rubbing their crotch together. 

Things escalated quickly, he didn’t remember when the guy took off his shirt, but his eyes popped open when he started to unzipp his jeans. Lucas grabbed the guy’s hand, trying to stop him, but he was too drunk and too weak.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, you’re gonna enjoy it.” he whispered into his ears. Lucas shivered and tried to resist, but his mind was too dizzy.

He closed his eyes, when he heard a noise, a body landing on the floor. He looked into the direction and he saw Eliott, holding Lucas’ shirt he probably picked up from the floor and looking at the guy, who was sitting on the floor. Some of the guests looked at them, being interested in the drama.

“Don’t touch him!” Eliott hissed, clenching his fist so much, his veins popped out.

Lucas sat up, holding his head, cause he was still pretty drunk. He grabbed Eliott’s arm, softly squeezing it. 

“What are you doing here?” he mumbled, even though he didn’t actually care. It made him happy that Eliott was here and he saved him from this random guy.

Eliott now looked at him, his eyes softened and knelt down, stroking Lucas’ face. His touch was like electricity, waking up his mind from the dizziness all those beer caused. 

“Let’s get you home.” he said softly, giving Lucas his shirt back. 

A couple hard moments later Eliott finally reached his goal to get Lucas stand up from the couch. He wrapped his arm around his waist, gently helping him to walk out of the house. Thankfully they didn’t meet any of Lucas’ friends, so he could go out without anyone bothering them. He walked to the road, calling for a taxi, while Lucas was squatting on the sidewalk, looking like he’s gonna throw up. After he gave the address, he walked back to Lucas just in time, he was stroking his back as he threw up everything on the grass. 

Long moments later Lucas seemed to be in a better condition, Eliott gave him a bottle of water. He washed his mouth first and then chugged up the rest of the bottle. They taxi arrived, so they hopped in on the backseat. Eliott told the driver their address and pulled Lucas to his side, making sure that he’s okay. 

Thrusday 10:35

Lucas woke up with a terrible headache, he opened his eyes and looked around. He was in his bed, wearing only boxers, smelling like mens bathroom. He barely remembered anything that happened last night, his memories were fuzzy. He got up, putting on a hoodie he stole from Yann ages ago, that was long and cozy. He walked to the bathroom, looking into the mirror, his face looked terrible, his hair was all over the place. He sighed and washed his face, brushed his teeth. Then he heard the noise from the kitchen. He stepped out of the bathroom and walked there, shocked at the sight of a very fresh, good looking Eliott.

The tall boy was wearing white jeans, a black shirt and a black hoodie, he was making breakfast apparently, humming something. Lucas tried to slowly approach him, but Eliott heard the steps of his naked feet, looking at him with a big, bright smile. Lucas could swear that it was brighter than the sun itself.

“Good morning. I’m making breakfast.” he said happily.

“That’s really nice of you.” that is all he could say, his head was hurting too much to have a full conversation about last night. Also his heart apparently decided to beat as fast as it just could when he smelled Eliott’s cologne. It was basically torture having such a beautiful person here, in his kitchen. 

He grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured some fresh coffee in it. Looks like Eliott thought about everything. He put in some sugar and started drinking, while watching Eliott stading by the stove. His chest felt warm by the thought of having breakfast with Eliott. 

A few minutes later the omlette was served on two plates, Eliott put it down on the table, smiling at Lucas softly. He couldn’t help, but smile back. Whatever happened last night, he was happy that it happened, otherwise Eliott wouldn’t be here, being kind, gentle, making breakfast for him. 

“Take this as my apologize. I really wanted to come on Sunday, but... I had a problem.” he explained shorty, looking at Lucas, hoping for any signs of forgiveness. 

This reminded Lucas of the moment when he saw that girl kissing Eliott in the doorway and then walking inside his apartment. He shook his head and put down the mug. 

“I’ll take your apology.” he said softly, sitting down at the table. Trying to be friends with Eliott was still better than not having any contact with him at all. He was happy around this person, his presence just made Lucas feel like life isn’t that bad at all.