Simple Wonders (Open)

[cyrus]

Cyrus Malloc

[/b]

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Pack up all my care and woe,
Here I go singing low
Bye bye blackbird
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Cyrus felt her against him and closed his eyes. He wanted to keep this moment—how he wished that time could stop—and to remember it always. He felt so comfortable against her. Usually he never liked anyone to touch him. He had been terrorized as a child when other playmates would think it was okay to touch him like they did everyone else. He would get anxious and throw himself down, unable to get himself under control after being grabbed or touched by one of his classmates. There was too much pressure from touch—the anxiety of feeling, of knowing that someone else had grabbed him. But this was different. His arms around Tatum felt good, and even though he knew it was too temporary, he could hold her for a little while.

“Please…” Cyrus repeated, feeling a trickle down his own cheek when she said that she would not forget him. She was the first person who wouldn’t, he was sure of it. He wouldn’t be invisible to her, would he? He could count on her thinking about him, for some time? It wasn’t at all impossible that though they had just one night together, from time to time she would look up at the sky, wherever she was, and think about him? He felt his lips quiver. He hated crying, but when he started he knew it was impossible to stop until the feeling was gone. His body had a strange way of yielding to his emotions. He thought it must have stemmed from how much he kept them under wraps to begin with. Like a dam that had been exploded, they would come rushing out from time to time, unable to be stopped.

When she pulled away and mentioned having to change, Cyrus continued to stare forward. He didn’t want her to think of him as a child. He knew that he shouldn’t have felt the way he did, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to curl up in his bed, and pull up his teddy bear and sleep. He wanted to escape to his grey dreams, where he didn’t think about anything and wasn’t bothered by anyone. He would get all of this out of him, and then things would go back to normal. Then he would bring his mother her breakfast, and she would tell him of the birds she thought she heard outside, and they would sit and talk and he would sit on the edge of the bed, trying to keep himself from feeling anything at all. His brother would come home from school and Cyrus would get ready for work. Scrape. Measure. Solder. Repeat.

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Where somebody waits for me,
Sugar's sweet so is she
Bye bye blackbird
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He rubbed his eyes and coughed. He ran his arm across his nose and coughed again. It was disgusting how he could turn into such a mess when he cried. He wished he never had to cry again, or better still, that he never had to feel anything. Life was so much better when he kept his head down, didn’t say anything, and did exactly what was expected of him (which was not a lot). Now he felt poisoned by Tatum. She had made him want to know more. She had made him want to hold her hand, to think about what it was like to see the wilderness, and to have someone who listened to him. Someone who was appreciative, and didn’t think he was an idiot for talking too slowly. Or that he was a child for not having seen a girl’s nether regions. She just let him be the way he was.

He cracked the door open to his mother’s room as he brought his arm to his mouth. He covered his nose and mouth to prevent her from hearing any of his anguish. She slept soundly, however, and he made his way to her old credenza to find a suitable dress. He would have felt bad about taking any of them if she ever left the house anymore. He knew that many of them had not been worn in some time, and as he leafed through them quickly, he grabbed a light brown dress that seemed both nondescript and very “district 6”—at least, something a lady might wear. He had no sense for women’s fashion, but he thought this matronly dress would at least let Tatum blend in with the crowd.

When he got to the door he took a deep breath and knocked, not wanting to say anything to Tatum. He held the dress out in his hands and placed it in a heap at the door. He would not repeat the mistake of before. No, he would let her change and she would go on, and they could be back to normal. That’s how life worked, things weren’t meant to change in the matter of hours. He had to get back to the way he was. He had to think the way that he had always thought, because that had kept him happy. He had no time for the wilderness, or girls who held his hand and kissed his cheek, or sleeping underneath the crawlspace.

He took a seat against the wall near the bathroom and slumped down to the ground. He felt his bracelet jingle and he looked down at the turquoise with a frown. He took a few deep breaths and placed his head between his knees. He had been so stupid. He was so stupid to ever think anyone like her ever meant anything more than a person who needed a place to stay and someone to be a comfort to them. He was as visible to her as he was to everyone else. When he wasn’t needed he would be gone, back to reality. He wished he could have been smarter—that he would understand the world better than he ever would. He wished he could go on forever just counting things, cutting things, and not having to be with people. They were too much to understand. He blinked a few times, letting the last of his straggling tears sink into his clothes.

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No one here can love and understand me
Oh what hard luck stories they all hand me
Make my bed and light the light,
I'll arrive late tonight
Blackbird bye bye.
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[laphae8ash]

************
I remember tears streaming down your face
When I said, "I'll never let you go"
When all those shadows almost killed your light
I remember you said, "Don't leave me here alone"
But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight

************

I couldn't help it. When I saw the dress fall in the door, hearing his sniffles, it was all too much. I want to comfort him I wanted to make him realize I really won't forget him. Ever. So without even realizing I was only in my bra and panties I stepped out in to the open room and knelt down. I pulled him to stand and I looked and him and then, taking his face in my hands I pushed my lips to his. I kissed him hard and passionately and didn't think twice.

My hardly clothed body pressed against him pushing him into the wall as I lifted myself on my toes to reach him a bit easier. My hand snaked around his neck finding the back of his neck fingers weaving into his dark hair as my lips moved against his. I didn't want to upset him more but I wanted him to understand just how touched I was by him. I wanted him to remember me as much as I would him. Suddenly, like a brick to the stomach, and I remembered his reaction to the shower scene and just how uncomfortable he was. Now here was I practically naked pushing my breasts against his chest using my lips to taste his...

I lowered myself off my toes and placed his hands on my waist and looked up into his eyes, just as red rimmed and moist as mine. "I'm sorry." I paused wanted to take in his reaction, "I know you haven't...I know it wasn't something...I just." These words were so hard to spit out because I wasn't sorry. I was sorry I might have upset him, but I wasn't sorry I kissed him and honestly I didn't want to stop. I wanted him to finally get to feel something instead of being so stoic. So I stopped apologizing and took a deep breath and told him, "Cyrus, I wanted to kiss you, and I don't want to stop kissing you, but if you're not okay with it then I won't keep doing it. Its your choice I don't want to upset you again."

************
Just close your eyes
The sun is going down
You'll be alright
No one can hurt you now
Come morning light
You and I'll be safe and sound

************

I couldn't make him understand that this was the best thing I could give him. A little bit of love in this big scary world that would eat him alive if he actually saw it. He didn't seem to really grasp that I was more than thankful for everything he had done and was doing for me. The fact I'm not an Avox or dead now is because of his kindness and even though he wasn't the first boy I'd kissed or even the 50th, it was something I hoped would relay those feelings to him since my words seemed to make it worse. It was as if he thought I was just using him to make things okay for now. Which at first, I was.

Then he opened up and I saw that beautiful soul inside. The gentle giant. This boy who was so sheltered and hidden that he shook at the site of a naked woman. He showed me that kindness knows no boundaries. And the way he didn't try to pull any naughty tricks as I lay in his arms last night...it was in such start contrast to any boy I had ever known. He went from just someone I could discard, to a friend. Someone I wanted to make sure knew that I wouldn't let him go. I'd keep a piece of him forever in my heart.

I there I stood, pretty much naked, eyes rimmed red staring up at Cyrus hoping he wasn't going to make me stop. I glanced at my feet, wiggling my toes out of nervousness, before looking back up at him. Taking his hand in mine I whisper, "So do you want me to stop and put the dress on, or is this okay with you." It really was his choice.

************
Don't you dare look out your window darling
Everything's on fire
The war outside our door keeps raging on
Hold on to this lullaby
Even when the music's gone
Gone

************

[/size]

[cyrus]

Cyrus Malloc

Before Tatum had come, he had learned to deal with his empty nights as though it was the way things were meant to be. He would go about doing his rote tasks, keep his head down, and was content with the silence. He could be content with the invisibility. He could understand why no one would talk to him because he didn’t know how to talk to them. He knew that he liked to play with the few plastic army men that he had underneath his bed. He liked the way he could walk around outside in his bare feet on a spring evening and feel them get cold against the gravel and stone. He was happy when he could see a rainbow after a rainstorm, and he still slept with a one-eyed teddy bear in his bed, which helped him to fall asleep at night.

When she came out from the bathroom, this time Cyrus couldn’t know what she was going to do. He thought that she was going to put the dress on, but instead she moved to him. She pressed him against the wall. He could feel his heart skip a beat as her hands touched him. He wanted her to touch him. He wanted to be pressed against the wall. He wanted to feel the warmth of her hands and her skin and her softness against him. He closed his eyes as his lips touched hers, not moving. He didn’t know how to kiss. He could only feel his eyebrows raise and his hands move around her waist in an involuntary motion. He could feel his heart pitter-patter faster, and he could hear a voice in his head screaming, screaming that this was too much, too fast, too strange, please, please, please stop but don’t…

His mouth held in a kiss as Tatum backed away. He finally opened his eyes as he heard her speak. He didn’t know what to say, looking from her to himself.
Looking and feeling much different than he’d ever felt. A rush of blood and a little bit of stiffness and too, too many thoughts rushing through him. He blanched and moved quickly to cut off Tatum by kissing her again on the lips, this time pushing hard with his lips against hers. He felt his hands wander down around her and pull her close, but gently. He pulled back and kissed her again, and then stopped. And then kissed her again, and on the cheek, and on the neck. He at last stopped when he realized what he was doing and pulled away. He slid against the wall and breathed quickly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he said over and over again, covering his face with his hands. When he was a few years younger, he had been told not to ever touch a girl that way. He had trouble controlling himself, and as he’d never been in contact with someone like Tatum, had been rather successful. But now he wasn’t sure of so many things. He didn’t understand why she wanted to kiss him, and he liked the kiss, but it brought about so many changes. It made him want so much more. And he knew that she had to go, she had to get back to her home. What was he supposed to do? He let out a sigh as he tried to calm himself. She was so pretty, and her lips were so soft.

“I… I liked kissing you too. ” He said as he looked down at the floor. He felt ashamed that he was so easily attracted to her. He was ashamed that he was so easy to break in terms of his desires. She created an easy silence for him that he didn’t understand. He knew it was too fast and that what he felt was illogical, and stupid. He had seen the boys his age with girls—how stupid they were—and he wondered if perhaps, in all his escapes from normality, he was no better than the rest of them. The cold shield he usually put up before himself had been shattered by Tatum, only to reveal that he too felt this connection with her.

Cyrus looked from the dress on the floor to Tatum and back to the dress. He knew that she should have put on the dress. He knew that as much as she may have liked him, he was not right for her. Couldn’t she see that he was strange? Couldn’t she see that he was unlike anyone who knew anything about such things? How could she want someone like Cyrus to touch her in that way? And yet every passing moment that she stayed made him feel more alive. Why were girls so hard to understand?

“I don’t want you to go… I want…” He looked her in the eyes. She had been through so much, he thought. She had been through more than he could ever realize. His pitiful existence with a sick mother and awful classmates (and aspergers that would never leave him, though no one in his lifetime would give him the name) could be nothing compared to what she must have seen. And this kissing. This touching. She did it for him, but maybe for herself too? He at last moved his hands with hers and looked down at them, playing with them.

“I want to be happy. And you made me happy, Tatum.” He looked at her face and smiled the first smile he could remember in some time. He looked at her face. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. You make me happy. I… I know you have to leave… it makes me… it makes me sad. But I know I can’t… I don’t know how to… I…” he was at a loss for words. He hoped she could understand. He hoped that at least he could start making sense out of what was happening.

[/size]

[laphae8ash]

At first his lips didn't react, I could feel his face contort in surprise, but then something changed. It was as if he a light flickered on inside and he finally was feeling the feelings of a man. His rough hands took my waist and pulled me back towards him. My mouth kept up with his, soft and smooth, new and fresh, and before I knew it his lips were traveling down towards my neck sending chills down my spine. Instinctivly I tiled my head back wishing he'd keep going lower.

Then he stopped. A look of shock on his face as he slid down the wall, my heart dropped hearing his apologies, like I would be upset with him. I moved down next to him and took his hand in mine again, I knew he liked that and seemed to be more responsive when I was holding his hand.

"Oh Cyrus, don't be sorry! I'm okay with you touching me...I won't get upset or yell. I like you Cyrus, I like you kissing me. And if you decide that you don't want to kiss anymore thats okay too." This reaction was better than I expected. He didn't seem to want to run and hide, he just didn't understand what to do with a boy and a girl. I knew he wasn't like other boys and even other people, but thats okay with me. He just saw things differently, he wasn't strange or broken, just different.

Every time he would get upset it made me wonder just what had happened to make him feel so lonely and so far from everyone else. It broke my heart that people couldn't just accept him the way he was. He was just who he was supposed to be. I leaned into kiss him once more, moving my lips to his ear I whispered, "Cyrus, I have sometime before I have to leave...if you want me to stay I can stay a little longer. I like spending time with you."

I let him choose where he wanted to place his hands, wishing he'd pull me close, while I adjusted myself to be cross legged facing him. I wanted to move across him. Let myself rest on his lap, but I'm sure he would be too scared yet, so I figured I'd just let him work his way to where he was comfortable. I reached out to stroke his face, touch the stubble now coming in on his jaw and cheek, doesn't he understand how beautiful he is? Doesn't he see more than what people tell him he is? I wanted to hold him and tell him that just because he liked different things, or understood things in a unique way that he was still important. Still worthwhile.

His eyes kept flicking down towards the floor and I felt ashamed that I had put him in this awkward position. I just wanted to let him feel what I felt when I saw him. Leaning forward and kissing his forhead I asked "Do you want to stop?" Our eyes met and instead of a lost little boy I started to see a man peering through.

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[cyrus]

Cyrus Malloc

When Cyrus looked to Tatum, he was unsure of how he was to make meaning out of what she was saying. Here was a fresh opportunity for something different, to open a world previously unknown to him. One that made his body tremble and his heart anxious. He was wading further and further into unexplored territory, and he didn’t react well to new and frightening propositions. Her soft voice and her calm hands comforted him, however, and he could see now that perhaps she too wanted to be with him, if only for a little longer.

“I’m not afraid of touching you…” He said quietly as he looked down at the floor. The thought wasn’t that he didn’t want to touch Tatum. He wanted to feel her skin against his. He liked the way that her breath had pressed against his neck the night before. He had played with her hair while she slept, not having been able to sleep. Now he’d pressed his lips against her neck, and felt the curve of her back. He liked those things, too. Touch usually made him recoil and want to hideaway, but this touching had excited him, and made him want more. He thought of her as beautiful beyond measure—unlike any other girl he’d seen in his district, so free and happy with herself. She was kind enough to stay with him, to teach him, to give to him even though he’d not asked her to do so.

He wasn’t just afraid. He was terrified. He was frightened of pushing her away, and losing the one chance he may have had at being happy with someone. There were no others who had time to explore Cyrus for what he was. Having given up on himself, Cyrus had become a shadow amongst the others of District 6. He was content as a caretaker of his family, and living for himself as best he could. He was scared to death of returning to the numbness of cutting metal and walking home late at night and only imagining that things like this could ever exist. It was an existence that would only persist in his mind, and stay with him until he had shuffled off this mortal coil. What good would it do to give in to his wants and desires if he was to spoil this moment with Tatum?

He was at a loss where to begin. He wanted to push forward and explore, but he was fearful that she would laugh at him. He was terrified that she would reject him for his sloppy and unknowing advances. He was afraid that she would see him like the little boy that was inside of him, and leave him regretting the decision she’d made. He was so easy to leave him and move on as though nothing had happened. She had endless chances to be free and to meet others outside of these walls. It was hard enough for Cyrus to break free from his own barricades that he had turned to contenting himself with memories and wishes for the future.

He moved forward and placed his hands on Tatum’s lap. He moved to keep his eyes at level with hers, and stared into them for some time. He had to be sure of her, and of himself. He had to be certain that if they were to move forward—whatever that could mean—that he would not forget her face. That this would mean something to him, whether it stayed with her or not. That the time he spent playing with the little toy men under his bed was disappearing. That the teddy bear in his bed was a fixation that may be passing. This horizon that they were creating was one he would have to navigate without her. And he wanted to be sure that this was worth it.

He closed his eyes and kissed her softly on the cheek before moving back again, his eyes wide. How could they look to anyone that would have seen them? They were still children, to be sure, as worldly wise as Tatum may have been. And yet he wanted so desperately to understand what it meant to become a man—was this how he moved forward? Was he making a terrible mistake? Was she making a terrible mistake in choosing him?

“I have never wanted anyone to stay,” He said when he opened his eyes again. “I have never had anyone to stay with, Tatum. And I don’t know anything about… this… us… I… I have never felt this way about… anything. And I’m… I want you to be happy with me, and I want to be happy with you… and I don’t want…” He took a deep breath, his voice shaking. “I don’t want you to disappear, but I know… I want to kiss you and… I just… I have to understand. I want to spend so much time with you before you have to go. Before I…”

Before she would disappear into the woods, into the wild world without him. But he was beginning to find renewed strength inside of himself. He was drawn closer to her, despite his trembling voice and hands, and wrapped his arms around her waist. He moved to kiss her for a long while upon the lips, knowing it must have been awkward, and dull, and everything she’d never experienced before. But he was becoming certain of himself and his decision. He was discovering that he could control this anxiety and nervousness, and at least for now, when he wanted to kiss her, how long, and where.

He pulled back to look at Tatum again. “I could kiss you all day.” Cyrus said as he pulled her closer, surprising even himself. When he held her in his arms, he could forget about the world around him. He could concentrate on her body, on her face, and on her heartbeat. He could think about how much he wanted to touch her and be touched, and how much more at ease it was making him feel. How excited he was, for the first time in a long time, about anything.

[/size]

[laphae8ash]

The sudden courage of Cyrus takes me by surprise, but I let him take his take time doing what he wants and not pushing things. Letting his lips travel over mine and feeling his exploration of the different types of pressure and movements, his curiousity making me smile inside. He seemed to be discovering new way to feel and move and made my heart skip a beat.

When he finally pulled back I leaned in and kissed his cheek, helping him up as I nod towards the couch lacing my fingers through his. As I drink in his shirtless frame I notice the thin fabric of his pajamas do little to hid how much he is enjoying this, my face flushing with the feeling of just how far this might go. Despite his child like demenior his body is that of a well toned and very appealing man, and it makes this even harder.

I lay back on the couch as I notice he stands over me just watching me. Its as if he wants to remember every freckle, every scar, every little thing that makes me me. My face breaks out in a wide smile, and I reach up and and pull him onto me.

My lips travel down his neck and I feel him adjust himself against me and I stop. "Are you okay, do we need to slow down?" The fears of pushing too far come rushing back as I brush my hand against the side of his face. I lean up to kiss him again, letting my teeth nibble his lower lip.

This wasn't my first rodeo, but this was the first time that I wanted it to be special, I wanted it to be right because deep down I didn't know if Cyrus would ever be able to find someone to understand him the way I was trying. The way he acted was like no one ever took the time to even talk to him, look at him, know him. Instead he was just there, a spot in the background, and I never wanted him to feel like that.

It was so hard knowing that even if I wanted to, this would only be a one time thing, that I had to leave him. I wanted to shrink him and put him in my pocket and take him with me everywhere. I wanted to give him all my joy and let him know that there is more out there than just work and home, that there is so very much more.

My fingers ran up his back, lighty teasing the crevase of his spine and back over his shoulders. He was so firm and solid, yet so frail on the inside. His boddy seemed to shiver against me so I pull him closer. Our body heat feels like a fire to my chest and I moan softly. I can't help but finally let out these feelings he's creating. I bite my lip, praying he doesn't stop.

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[cyrus]

Cyrus Malloc

There was courage within him. There was a fire that had not yet been ignited, that was yearning, pushing to be free. He was not a child. He was not something that could be kept in a cage. He was not a shadow on the wall. Oh, how he had always wanted to feel the way they felt, how he wanted to understand what these feelings meant and why everyone around him was so interested in bodies touching bodies. He had failed to notice or ever see the beauty around him. He had failed to ever try to see it, because no one had taken the time to see it in him. Maybe he was being a little melodramatic—perhaps he’d been too simple to see what others saw in him—he was always willing to forgive others, they were far more brilliant at such things than he.

He stared down at her on the couch before he moved his frame atop Tatum’s. Their warm bodies pressed together, and he let out his own little sigh. He wrapped his strong arms around her body, resting his head on her chest, closing his eyes for a moment. If only this could be saved forever, for a moment to last more than these few seconds so that he would never have to go without her again. How he longed to understand her magic and mystery. He could only hope that in knowing her, in touching her, in feeling who she truly was, he was discovering a part of himself. He could stop now to stare and see the beauty in the people on the street. That maybe a lingering touch on his hand could mean more than danger or fear.

He kissed her neck softly, and moved his hands along her sides, still quietly unsure of what he was supposed to do. She was brilliant—there was no other word for her now. Her beauty could warm a winter’s frost, it could melt the metal he so carefully worked every evening, it could drive him to understand himself. He sought to understand why his legs quivered as he lay on top of her, why his skin flushed, and why he wanted nothing more to continue forward, even if he couldn’t see where he was going. “No… this is fine… this is… wonderful,” He said into her ear as he kissed her again, smelling the soap on her skin and feeling a smile creep across his face.

Please don’t mistake me as someone who is afraid. Please don’t see me as someone who can’t discover it on my own. Please give me time. Please don’t forget me. Please don’t think that because my hands are shaking that I’m scared of you. Please don’t think of me as a child. Please just let me explore, guide me, show me. Please let’s be in this together. Please don’t laugh when I make a mistake. Please let me learn. Please let me see you. Please don’t stop. Please, let me have my dignity. Please.

He was so sure of being unsure, so wanting to march along the hills of her thighs and enter into no man’s land; he knew that she would be able to sense his naiveté. This was a better place to be than he had ever been. He could at least say as much as this. For all his unknowing, he had come this far. He move his lips across her neck again, and looked up at her eyes. He took in another few breaths, trying to steady himself on her. There was just a slim bit of fabric between the two of them now, and he could feel the blood rushing through him.

“Are you okay?” He whispered, wanting her approval. He knew that there was nothing more that he wanted than this, despite not wanting to admit it. He was so focused on making her happy, he was willing to sacrifice what felt good for him, and to push back the voices that were shouting in his own head. He had enough to deal with than to think of his own needs. He was always happy when he made others happy, and nothing could satisfy him more than satisfying Tatum.

[laphae8ash]

I smile as he lets himself relax and explore the different spaces of my body. He seems nervous but not like I would expect. His hands running over me touching places and parts his hands have never felt. Their rough callouses hard against my skin. Its not uncomfortable but exciting seeing him discover feelings he never had.

He asks me if I'm okay and I nod pressing my lips against his "Don't stop, I like this" I smile at him and take his shaking hands. I don't want to pressure him, I want him to go at his own pace, and if that means we take our time than we do, it just makes every moment of my aching for him worth it.

I just want to make him happy, I just want to give him this one thing. So I snuggle closer for him and urge him on. His fingers tracing the lines of my bra, almost afraid to find out what is under. Reaching back and unhooking the clasp, I smile letting him know its okay.

As much as I didn't want to think about it I had to realize time was running low. Two days was the rule. You have two days to return and if you didn't you were on your own. That meant I had til Sundown to get back the three mile trek in the woods. It was already approaching midday, making my heart a little worried.

The slowness and gentleness he gives me is something I'm not used too. Its soothing and relaxing and puts me at ease. His hands are becoming more steady, more even with the pressure and his motion in the hips finds a natural rhythm, even it if it is a bit awkward and fast, using my hands to give him a more smooth motion I smile up and wait for him to make his next move.

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[cyrus]

Cyrus Malloc

[/b]

Her body slowly came into focus as he plodded along, his rough hands moved along her skin. She told him not to stop and he didn’t, no, he couldn’t now. He was drawn to her in a way that he may never understand. But he was sure as he could be that this is what he wants. He wanted her and she wanted him. Someone wanted him. It set fire inside of him, from the tip of his toes up through his legs, into his pants, up his chest, and to the top of his head. He let out a few sighs as he moved closer, feeling her warmth against his. His chest rose against hers. He began to stare at her for a moment, trying to figure out how to proceed, and realized what comes next.

He stood up, chest heaving for a moment, and disappeared into the next room. In a moment he’d returned in a streak and blur of flesh. He was laughing then, giggling like he’d never done before. He slid onto the couch gently and covered the two of them, wrapping his arms around her. He giggled again as he kissed her stomach and moved up her shirt. He’d felt comfortable now, hidden underneath this old quilt, darkness shrouding the both of them from the sins they were surely committing. He shivered as he felt her warm body against his and he slide forward, bringing his eyes to hers once again.

There were times when he was a child that he had been frightened of growing up. He had watched friends grow and change around him, and of all the terrible things he’d had to see, staying behind was his way of keeping safe. But now he could feel something different with Tatum. He saw that perhaps there were other things he could want and that he did want. There were other things that drove him forward, that made him excited (and more than just a little so). How he wanted, just for that morning, to explore some of them.

He would push onward, mindful of the gentleness and respect he needed to show. He would be slow and smooth, his hands on her body and wanting to see her as she saw him. He would gingerly move his hands and discover, examine, and feel the warmth that he’d never felt before. Was this what it meant to grow up? He liked the feel of it, but not because she had let him explore his own pleasure. No. He liked it because it felt safe. It felt like he was with someone who had taken time to care about him.

He seemed to be lost to it now, the longer they were together. He had always tried to pride himself on not losing control, but this was too much for Cyrus. This was so foreign and different, yet exactly what he wanted, and what he thought he needed. He was giving in to whatever pressed him forward, and he hoped she wouldn’t stop it. He very well knew he would respect her, and anyway that she decided to lead him. They would be together now, underneath the sheets, his face flushed and breath hurried, taking in her beauty. Beautiful, he kept thinking, she was so beautiful.

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[laphae8ash]

There once was a time I was sure of the bond
When my hands and my tongue and my thoughts were enough
We are the same but our lives move along
And the third one between replaces what once was love

In our own little world under that quilt we discovered things we didn't know existed, and by time we popped our heads back out. We were sweaty, out of breathe, but at a whole different point in our relationship, if you could call it that. The look of amazement and satisfaction on Cyrus's face was so bittersweet so perfect, that I couldn't help but lay in his arms a few minutes longer.

This moment we had just shared was more than anything I had gone through before, the other times paled in comparison to the emotion I felt now. Was this how it was always supposed to be, not just some churning of hormones against a tree, rolling on the forest floor or in the river? Was there more to this than just the passion of the flesh? I suppose I always knew there was, but never took the time to want it.

How am I supposed to want love when someday I can't even tell you where my next bed will be? How am I supposed to maintain something meaningful when sometimes I can't even know if I'll be alive tomorrow. The thoughts eat at me, tearing apart all the sense I thought I had made of my life. Instead now I'm stuck, looking at this wonderfully misunderstood man wishing the next words I had to say wouldn't hurt him so.

A few more moments I sat in silence letting Cyrus gather himself, his thoughts, the pieces of the innocent world he had just broken through. He looked wistful as if he was finding things that he had lost. Oh how I hated to be the one to destroy the peaceful post coital calm that has settled over us, but it had to be done. Leaning close to his face, brushing my hand over his cheek, I whisper softly, "Cyrus. Cyrus, I have to go soon. Very soon."

We are not together here
Though we lie entwined
To make room for the other presence
We both draw back in our minds
I have a prophecy
Threatening to spill into words
This growing certainty
Of Over

I placed a kiss on his cheek and started to unwind our inter-tangled bodies. Pulling on the discarded pieces of clothes, I did my best to keep the warmth under the blanket. Running my fingers through his hair I kissed his forehead and slide out from under it trying to do my best not to catch his eyes. I know the feelings I would have if I looked there would drag me back under and I'd never let go. I couldn't let go of my life...I couldn't bring him with me. I had to let go.

Slow careful steps took me to the pile of fabric on the floor, my getaway dress, and I picked it up knowing that this was the beginning of the end. Running the coarse fabric between my fingers I flicked away a tear. Pulling my shoulders back, I forced down all the welling anger and pain, I would have to be strong, hide it until I was hidden alone in the darkness of the woods tonight. I slide the dress over my head, and pulled my hair into a long braid running down the side of my head. Pursing my lips I turn around and head back to the man who has changed everything.

Don't hate me. Please Don't hate me for leaving. I'll never let you go in my heart, but I can't stay a minute longer. Please forgive me for letting you free. Don't blame me for showing you love. Don't hate me Cyrus. Please. I want to beg him to be strong and not shed tears over me. Deep down I know I can't do that. He'll have to figure this out, just like me, on his own.

Stepping into the room I finally look in his eyes, trying to force a smile. I spin a small circle showing off the dress, so severe and unlike anything I've worn before. "So will I blend in with the rest? Will I looked like just another girl?" The phrases so specific, its my way of urging him to let me go. Though from the look on his face, I will be in his dreams for many nights to come.

Freedom is being alone
I fear liberation
But something more alive than silence
Swallows conversation
No pleasing drama
In subtle averted eyes
The swelling fermata
As the chord dies

[/size]

[cyrus]

Cyrus Malloc

-----
You'll rescue me right?
In the exact same way they never did..
I'll be happy right?
When your healing powers kick in
-----

Cyrus felt the immensity of pleasure as they finished underneath the sheets. His fumbling hands culminated in the symphony with her legs, in the wonder of the fireworks, of the discovery that his body did things, wanted things that he hadn’t before. He was still panting as they finished underneath the quilt, wanting to know and process every last bit of what had just happened. Every little stare they had exchanged. Of the power of her against him and him with her and everything that was swirling around in a euphoric feeling inside of his mind.

-----
You'll complete me right?
Then my life can finally begin
I'll be worthy right?
Only when you realize the gem I am?
-----

She was too beautiful for him to express in that moment. He wanted to keep her forever with him, and thought for a brief moment that they would lie together, and that she would stay forever here with him. That these blissful minutes together would turn to hours, to days, and to an eternity diving back underneath the sheet, of kissing and finding each other. But as all things, the euphoria began to fade, and Cyrus felt an immense numbness beginning to fill him. Gravity was pulling him back down toward the earth at a rapid clip, and his mind was shouting about the consequences of his actions.

She didn’t love him. That much was clear. They could never be so stupid that this would lead to anything more than a few stupid kisses, clumsiness, and a bit of pleasure. Why had he given in? He had done something with someone who had share herself to so many people. He had no idea where she was going or where she had come from. This comfort, however well intentioned, would get him no further than he had previously been. Why had he thought that this would be the best decision, even in his unhappiness? She began to move as he sat against her, his arms wrapped tightly around her as though she were the same teddy bear that sat atop his bed.

-----
But this won't work now the way it once did
And I won't keep it up even though I would love to
Once I know who I'm not then I'll know who I am
But I know I won't keep on playing the victim
-----

She had to go. That was it. She had to move on, away from him, away from what they’d just shared together. What had he ever been thinking to see her, this beautiful young woman, this girl who reached out to him, as more than just a hand that would slip from his grasp? They all would leave him in his memories—that was all he would have now—to move forward. To experience the world, the whole wide and scary world, without him. He could feel his insides churning as she got up to get away from him. He could feel the warmth in his cheeks and the pressure in his eyes. He could feel himself being weak and feeling too much, too fast, as usual.

No, he didn’t want to be this way. He was a man. He was more than just the emotions that would roll out of him with abandon. So she was leaving him—he had known since taking her in the previous evening that she was going, he had to be stronger. He had to pull himself together and become a stone. Push everything down. Push it way, way down until he couldn’t feel it anyway. He took a few deep breaths and tried to keep himself from crying. He didn’t want to show her how much she meant to him. He didn’t want to hurt her, not for what she had shown him. She was too beautiful for that.

-----
These precious illusions in my head did not let me down
When I was defenseless
And parting with them is like parting with invisible best friends
-----

As she moved to put on the dress, he tried to imagine where she must be wandering to. Surely they would press on to another district, her rag tag band and family. She would be safe—she was smart and brave—and they would find somewhere to rest their heads. She would lead them, she was so wonderful that way. He was certain that she would lead them to the wilderness and beyond, to somewhere that they could be happy and free. She deserved so much. She deserved to learn about the world and to find her way away from this place.

And he—he would grow. He would think of her from time to time, and he would be happy. He would return to his metal working job, and to school. He would cut pieces of metal and learn calculus, and he would be able to say that he had kissed a girl. That he had felt what warmth the other boys whispered about. That he had felt something unlike anything he knew. That maybe he too could see something about what they were saying. But he wouldn’t speak to this. No, he would be silent to protect her. To protect himself. He would shift back into the shadows again. Things would be changed, but much remained the same. But he would look happy. Happy with a secret.

-----
I've spent so long firmly looking outside me
I've spent so much time living in survival mode
-----

“B-beautiful,” He said with a shaky voice, trying not to cry. He could feel a few drops slip down his cheeks as he brushed them away quickly. He stood and moved to put his own clothes back on, his underwear and a trusty pair of overalls. He took in a few breaths and tried to calm himself, but his body shook as he cried again. He was so ashamed of himself. So dirty and ashamed, and why was she leaving, why had he said yes, what was he to think now? He wiped away his tears and coughed, thinking himself stupid. So stupid. So emotional over everything. Sometimes he thought it would just be better not to feel anything at all than to feel so much at once. It would be better for him to feel nothing than to feel the glimpses of happiness and immense anxiety of living all the time.

“You’ll be fine…” He finally was able to say. He moved closer to her and took a few more breaths. “D-do you want something to drink before we go—“ He paused, wondering if she even wanted him to lead her toward the gates. “Before going back to the wall?” He looked away quickly, toward the floor.

-----
But this won't work as well as the way it once did
'cause I want to decide between survival and bliss
And though I know who I'm not I still don't know who I am
But I know I won't keep on playing the victim
-----

[/size]

[laphae8ash]

This is how the story went
I met someone by accident
Who blew me away
Blew me away
And It was in the darkest of my days
When you took my sorrow and you took my pain
And buried them away, buried them away

Beautiful. The word resounded through her brain like a drum hit too hard. She was so far from beautiful right now. She was so so so far. Soon his tears started again and I moved to the couch offering my shoulder as a place for his head to rest while he freed himself of all the anguish he had building up. As he sniffled and pushed the tears off his face I had to choke mine back. As much as I wanted to dive back under the worn quilt and hold him for the rest of time, I couldn't. I had to go.

Finally his tears subsided and he was able to stutter something about getting a drink before we left. Even though it was a stalling tactic, I nodded my head. The few minutes we sat drinking our respective cups of water, we just looked at each other. Not only drinking in the liquid, but the final moments of our time together. Please let him be able to say good bye. Please let him know that no matter what he has a home in my heart forever. Please just let him be okay with this.

My fear starts to spill over as my hands begin to shake. I take a few deep breaths and sips of water trying to force these emotions back inside. I finally get the courage up to say, "That was amazing Cyrus." my eyes meet his and I smile. We're going to get through this. We're going to be okay. I repeat the words over and over hoping that he can pick up on it as well.

I wish I could lay down beside you
When the day is done
And wake up to your face against the morning sun
But like everything I've ever known
You'll disappear one day
So I'll spend my whole life hiding my heart away

I look at the door, and back to Cyrus. "Can you walk me as close to the fence as you feel safe? I don't know how to get back to there from here. I need to look for the area by a large oak tree. I left a marking rock near it, I'll be able to see it from the wall..." my voice was as loud as a hummingbird, scared that if I actually put sound behind them he'd chicken out. I didn't have much more time and I needed to hurry. Leaving him to think about it I ducked back into the bathroom, grabbing my old dress that I had tied into a satchel. His old nightshirt was stuffed inside, I wasn't leaving here without something tangible of his. I needed it for when the nights got cold and lonely, for when I needed courage and strength.

Stepping back out I saw him head towards the door. Snatching up the bundle containing the bread I wait. One second more, just one more second in the safety of his presence. Two more seconds, just let me stand here forever. Three more seconds, I can't leave I can't do this. TATUM STOP IT. I shake myself out of the daze and run into his arms squeezing him tightly, holding on for dear life. I want just one more chance to be in his arms, one more chance for that goodness he holds to rub off on me.

It feels so right, the two of us pressed against each other in the door way. I look like just another girl in the district, someone he'd see on his way to school or work. Someone he could love and be with whenever he wanted. To anyone looking in I was simply plain and forgettable. Exactly what I needed to be. Yet, Cyrus still looked at me as if my face was trying to imprint itself on the deepest parts of his brain, like I was a rare jewel to keep hidden away for fear of losing. He knew that under this facade I was something untamable, wild and free...and I hope he knew that it meant he had to set me free.

Pushing away from his body, I took his hand, "Are you ready to go? We can do this together. My free hand reached for the door knob...pausing to kiss him one last time. On the count of three Tatum you have to pull it together, let him go.




ONE...




TWO...




THREE...

Woke up feeling heavy hearted
I'm going back to where I started
The morning rain
The morning rain
And though I wish that you were here
On that same old road that brought me here
It's calling me home
It's calling me home
I can't spend my whole life hiding my heart away

[cyrus]

Cyrus Malloc

[/b]

Happy ending.

The phrase was one that Cyrus had heard thrown around in the books he had liked to read. He had yet to outgrow these childish things, despite his best attempts to understand why he should have been leaving them behind. He liked the way everything was so simple for them. There would be love between two people, and some sort of conflict. They would go through something together. And then in the end, everything would settle. They would live happily ever after. There would be a happy ending for the both of them.

He was supposed to understand that life did not work this way. That there were not as many happy endings in Panem as when he read in his books. He wanted things to be simpler for him, for things to work just the way he wanted to in his mind. Things would be so much easier if he could just picture what he wanted, and for things to work out just the way he thought they were supposed to. Even when he followed the rules this didn’t seem to be the case. He wondered about the question of fairness, or if perhaps it was his misguided attempts to rationalize what was supposed to happen over what actually would happen. People were strange creatures that he had such trouble figuring out.

When Tatum clutched him again, he embraced her, hard, trying not to cry again. Why did it always have to end this way? Why did he have to say goodbye, when he was finally starting to learn and understand? He supposed that this was just another step forward for him. Perhaps now he could start to understand that things wouldn’t work out the way he wanted, even after all they had done to each other. He would have to recognize that he had to be strong, and that the future was not something that he could so easily predict. None of this was what Cyrus wanted to think about at the moment. He only wanted to hold onto her for a little while longer, to perhaps not grow up just yet.

“I can take you wherever you need to go,” He mustered out, his voice soft against her. He would lead her to the fence, even though it would kill him. He already knew that each step would be heavier than the next. He could already feel a weight forming over his chest. And yet he knew that he couldn’t run and hide from this—and maybe, maybe he shouldn’t be running when he felt this weight. Maybe he was strong enough that these little things that snowballed into bigger things wouldn’t always knock him down. He could do this. He could pull himself together. He could make it to the fence. If he could make it to the fence and turn around, then he could break down.

He pulled back to wipe his own eyes and take a few deep breaths. Her kiss still felt hot on his cheek when she turned to open the door. She was giving him the chance to move forward. That was the best way that he could see it. It was a painful break, in that he’d felt so much and done so much more in the past however many hours with her. He would have to take a long while to process it all. And he would hope—was that it—he would hope that she would be safe without him. He took a few steps out the door, and before stepping outside, took her hand in his.

“It won’t take us long to get there. Just make sure to smile if anyone says hello to you. If anyone stops us, I will talk to them. And if anything happens—“ Cyrus paused to look at her face. He knew that there could be tragedy, but it was unlikely. But if there were, he would not let her get caught. “You will run. The fence is south of here. We follow this road down to Ellerhorst, and then make a right. And then when we reach Division street, we make a left and follow that until the road ends.”

He said all of this matter-of-factly for her. He was shifting back to how he had been before. Colder, less concerned with her than with making sure she was safe. He would protect her, and get her to the fence. And then he would think of the after. It was too much for him to consider now. He would worry and become anxious in the moment that it was necessary. They had to get her to the fence. She could not be left behind.

[/size]

[laphae8ash]

Cause you and your heart
shouldn't feel so far apart
You can choose what you take
Why you gotta break and make it feel so hard

Nodding my head at his directions I slide my hand into his as we head out the door. There isn't much bustle as its mid-morning and the people of District 6 have headed to their respective jobs or schooling, yet it feels as if we're a world away from our little dimension under the quilt. I feel exposed and naked in the bright light of the sun. As if the dimness and haze of the past day is being brushed away under the carpet and I my true self is being pushed forward.

My eyes scan the area instinctively for peacekeepers or people who might cause us to be distracted but I don't see anyone. In fact I don't see anyone on the street at all. My lips feel dry and I want to turn back around and run into his home and hide, but I don't. I take a step forward, feeling the resistance in Cyrus as I do. He doesn't want me to go as much as I don't want to. Squeezing his softly its almost a motion to reassure myself that he wasn't going to take off and leave me.

Step by step we walked in silence. In my mind I knew that any words I said would be empty chatter to just fill the gaps between what we both knew was coming. I didn't want to put him through that...I didn't want to put him through this. My stomach filled in knots as we turned down each street inching our way closer to the closure of the fence.

After the second turn I couldn't hold it in anymore. "Cyrus, don't forget me." Tears welled up in my eyes as a stopped to look up at him. "Don't just shove me away and pretend we never happened. Please." I didn't want to be a figment of his imagination. I wanted him to know I was real, and I was tangent and touchable. I wasn't just a dream floating on by.

You lay there in the street
Like broken glass reflecting pieces of the sun
But you're not the flame
You got the people passing by
Because you know what you don't like
It's just so easy, it's just so easy

His face, so innocent was settling back into the reclusive state I first saw when I bumped into him. The calculating and thoughtful face that puts logic and reason first, ahead of emotion and love. It took everything I had not to shake him and scream, Don't hide away Cyrus, face this head on, you're strong. So very very strong. Stronger than anyone has ever let you know. Instead I just bit down on my lip and looked away. I could see the top of the gate starting to peak out over the tops of the buildings and each link is a dagger in my heart.

Taking his hand in mine I start walking again, slowly dragging my feet. Trying to think of a way I could stay, all of them useless and stupid. I can't leave my parents, my family, my life...I know that deep down I'll be okay. We'll both be okay. Those thoughts don't make this any easier though. That's like saying if you cut off your arm, you'll live and be okay. Sure you will but that doesn't make the pain of losing your arm any easier.

Down the final street I see the hole that I slipped through and I debate just running towards it, skipping the heart wrenching words I know are coming. That's not fair to Cyrus though. He deserves a proper goodbye. He deserves some sort of time to sort through this without wondering what if. And he has the right to say what he needs to say to me.

Turning to face him I lean against the building and eye the hole. "Cyrus, I have to go now, but I promise I'll never forget you." I take his hand and hold it to my chest, "You'll stay with me right here." My eyes can no longer hold back the tears. I drop the satchel with the bread and my dress and throw my arms around him.

Cause you and your heart
shouldn't feel so far apart
You can choose what you take
Why you gotta break and make it feel so hard

[cyrus]

Cyrus Malloc

-----
Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are
I had to find you, tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart
-----

Cyrus walked along the road in silence. His chest was heavy. His arms hung down at his sides. He didn’t bother looking over at Tatum. He was on a mission to get her back to the fence. He would deliver her to the place where she needed to be, and that was that. He didn’t want to have to focus on anything else. There just simply wasn’t enough strength in him to focus on the thought that so much had opened for him—so much had changed—that he would take a long while to process all of it. He knew he wasn’t going to be the same again, and it frightened him that the only one that had shared his moment was now going to disappear for what could be forever.

He would never be able to fully tell her how he felt. Cyrus thought differently.
He felt differently. He loved differently. Words were to convey information, not to flower and spread lies and misinformation. Feelings had a way of changing meanings. They had a way of making the black and white gray, and Cyrus could never grasp just what it was that he could change when he spoke of his feelings. He knew that there was something special about Tatum, but he knew that she was a glimmer of something, not meant to be forever. He was meant to learn from this—that this passing moment they shared provided a window into adulthood—though he was pained by the break from the past and his motion forward.

-----
Nobody said it was easy
It's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard
Oh, take me back to the start.
-----

As they rounded the second turn, he knew that the silence was beginning to grow deafening. Maybe he could hide it all away, maybe he was giving this a glorious place in his head that was naïve and ridiculous. After all, he had given into his desires, broken the law, and risked his own life all for the warmth and affection of this young woman. His original intentions had just been about protection, yet he had gotten wrapped up in her as a person and the opportunity that she provided. He needed to remember that life was logical. Life was reasonable. Life was sound.

When Tatum pleaded for him not to forget her, he nodded his head in agreement. He kept his stone face, trying not to break down. He could feel his chest and body getting heavier as she spoke, and his lips shook when he felt her hand wrap in his. There was nothing he could say to this, other than to grasp it tightly, giving it a good squeeze. He would never forget her, not for the wind and the rain, not if the mountains fell down, not if he lost his limbs and they cut out his tongue. He could say that for once, instead of his continuous routine, he’d had a wonderful day.

-----
I was just guessing at numbers and figures
Pulling the puzzles apart
Questions of science, science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart
-----

When they reached the last street, Cyrus could feel the weight move from his chest to his throat. He couldn’t cry now, and he didn’t want to. But when he felt her arms around him, he felt himself shake. Cyrus took a few deep breaths to calm himself, letting a few drops slide down his cheeks as he gripped Tatum tightly. This was it. This was the end. This was his last chance to get to talk with her. This was the moment that whatever he said, they would remember. And as these thoughts swirled in his head, for the first time—he stopped himself—he could imagine exactly what he wanted to say.

“I am going to miss you Tatum. I liked having you here. I liked being with you.” Cyrus gripped her more tightly. “I want to know so much more about you. I want to sleep with you every night. I want you to be safe. I… I don’t want you to leave. But… I know you have to go. And I… I want you to be happy… so please… please be safe? For me? Please don’t forget about me. Please don’t think I will forget about you. You’re so wonderful. You’re beautiful. I have never met anyone like you. I… I have never felt so happy as today. You’re beautiful Tatum.”

-----
And tell me you love me, come back and haunt me
Oh and I rush to the start
Running in circles, chasing our tails
Coming back as we are
-----

He said all of this, letting the words spill out of him with reckless abandon. He stared down at her as he smiled, knowing that the moment was drawing near. Neither of them wanted to do so, yet neither could turn back. And yet, unlike ever before, Cyrus was ready to take the first step.

“I will think of you all the time Tatum. But I know you have to go back to your family. I will be happy—I will always be here if you ever need me. I can promise you that. Goodbye, Tatum.” He would want her to come back—he would spend some time hoping to see her come back—but for now he could try to let her go. He knew that he needed as much to stop the weight of what was on top of him from taking control. He embraced her once more, and let a small sigh escape from her. Please, let her be safe.

-----
Nobody said it was easy
Oh it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be so hard…
-----

[/size]