Yellow Brick Road

                                    

                                          



Theo laid departed and void in the tent, he was shivering previously but he was so drained he couldn't even take deep breaths because the moving chest consumed too much energy. The one movement he made was when he was in a half-conscious state, during the time of which being awake and being asleep blurred and he felt his hand involuntarily move to reach out for Kit's like the night previous, before he forced himself to drag it back under the covers and force himself to accept there was no use. 
He'd made his bed. 
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During the night, as his tears blurred his eyes and the cigarette ash built up. He'd hoped maybe what Theo had said was true. That he'd never leave. Until the last star in the galaxy had burned out. But the hope was draining every passing second. Every tear that dropped. Every millimeter of ash. 
He'd heard the steps coming closer towards him, yet he didn't think to pull himself out of his daze until they were next to him and the person had sat down next to him, the scent of vanilla warmed him a little.
She wiped the blood off of his knuckles, he didn't feel a thing. They'd gone numb. 
The worst part was realising that this time he had nobody else to blame it on. It was himself all along, really. It wasn't alcohol or his friends. Not his father, with his fists of scathing words. Or the ghostly presence of his mother looming over, watching. It was him. He was making himself miserable, all along. 
"Haven't seen you smoke since you became... friends- with Theo." She whispered, her eyes drifting back-and-forth from his puffy eyes, the cigarette, and his bruised knuckles, "I've also never seen you cry ever. Must be a big deal, huh?" 
He did not respond. 
He'd believed that even had he tried to respond no words would come out. 
"He must be a good friend..." 
He shrugged. She pulled her mouth into a sour line and sighed.
"I wasn't going to say, I was gonna like let you tell me, but I know you guys were like... dating?" She said she knew but the tone of her voice indicated it was a question. 
"What-" Kit choked up. 
"Well. I don't know if you guys are. But I know you're not straight and neither is he- and you guys are like really good-" 
"Who says I'm not?" He tried to keep his voice from sounding defensive. 
"Kit... Come on." She huffed, when he did not respond again she snatched the cigarette from his hand and stubbed it out, "You'll get lung cancer and I don't want my friend dying, thank you."
There was a long pause, and she stared intently at him, he knew it was no use, "How'd you know?" 
"I think- It's hard not to when the only good relationship I've been in was more of a friendship," She chuckled softly, before she continued, she pulled her shoes off and dipped her feet into the water, "You're the only guy I think that hasn't just wanted to fuck me- which I know doesn't mean anything. It could just mean you're a good guy. But that's not just it." 
"I don't understand-" 
"I just. Sensed it, I suppose? Is that scary or bad to say? Sorry, I'm rambling- After two months you never even kissed me. Or initiated anything... at all. And when I started to actually be the one to initiate it for once in my life you shut it down. Not to sound like a cocky bitch. I think it was more than that though."
Her feet were swaying in the water, and Kit was watching her. 
Her button nose, covered in a dot-to-dot of very faint freckles, the perfect tint of rose to her cheeks, her eyes shone under the moon as her lashes fanned gently across her eyelids. Her skin was perfectly gold. Her hair was perfectly long. She was perfect.