strawberry lemonade { fables I - I

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C O L T Passing the City-line is a scratchy kind of sensation. My thoughts get water logged, all my mothers' warnings about the cruelty of cityfolk rolling around in between my ears. It's dangerous, sure, but deliciously forbidden. I'd be lying if I said the steady increase of my heart rate comes only from anxiety at the sudden proximity to so many strangers. They pack themselves along the sidewalk, shoulders hunched and gazes fixed on their own hurried footsteps. Some wear scowls and other's lips are pressed into a tight line; I can't help but notice there's not a single smile to be found among them. Is this place really so miserable? Granted, I'm being a bit hypocritical here. I joined the first Gym that didn't ask too many uncomfortable questions about two weeks ago. Most of my journey to and fro was spent in a half-sprint, hood pulled over my head and convinced that the second I met an errant peacekeeper's gaze they'd shoot me on the spot. But Spring bleeds into bloomed roses and it's not within my nature to ignore their scent. Cities are dirty, not as pretty as the white picket fence I grew up caged within. The sunshine here is harder to find, buried beneath thick a layer of grime, but it's there. Called to my senses by a near-collision with a very grumpy looking older gentleman, I rejoin the crowd in its half-shamble toward main street. In spite of my better judgement, I wear a smile all the way. Pretty sure it's in my blood to be damn good at training. It's a terrible thought - one that would hurt my mother dearly if she knew it had crossed my mind - but its unpleasantness did not obscure its truth. I picked up the flow of hand-to-hand combat after a few lessons, quick graduating to weapon fighting. Until now I've really only really talked to my trainers when I absolutely had to, giving the others - the careers I'd been warned about - a wide birth. Better judgement tells me that's the safest course of action but I dunno, I have a good feeling about today. Optimism clings to my somewhat sheepish grin and with only a slight struggle I've shed my usual hoodie and tossed it into some locker whose number I don't remember. I'll figure it out. I'm supposed to start with axes today. I've seen the others, my peers I guess, do these cool flourishes with their weapons. Spinning them around their bodies or tossing them into the air and it looked easy enough to- SCRASH and that's the entire rack of axes clattering onto the mats. I've never had this many eyes on me. It's fucking suffocating. More than that, it's dangerous. "Haha, my bad." A nervous laughs clings to the words. "I'll uh, clean this up."

[arx!!]

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F E L I X The sun hasn't even had the chance to break through the city haze when the first crack! sounds in the distance.  I sigh through a toothy smile as the twins' heads snap to the the cries of some poor soul who'd stepped too far outside the lines. I've already ignored their questions before they get the chance to ask them.  I put palms to pavement, tumbling with a grin and flourish—"You guys ever hear the story about the storm cloud and his friend, the sun dragon?"—to keep young eyes from drifting too far from the safety of shore. The rest of the way to school is spent putting together a story with the help of a few dramatic pauses and handspring backflips to give me enough time to think about what best entertains a pair of seven year olds.  They walk with their hands linked, backpack strings tangling and sneakers shuffling as they go. I try my best to ignore the defensive stance Niko takes beside them.  He's got fire in his eyes as he looks into the not so distant horror and I just don't have the time to be thinking about which of us is right. After we've waved the twins off to school, I laugh breathlessly into my hands. Niko screams as he punches a brick wall.  Some say we're related. The walk to the training center is no quieter than usual though as I kick at his ankles until he swats at me.  We look like we've been practicing a choreographed fight for the past month by the time we're kicking, bouncing, swatting, and flipping our way through the doors.  I'm laughing until he manages to get an arm around my neck and fuck up my hair with his knuckles. Then the mystery boy knocks over an entire rack of axes and all my brother and I can do is turn our gazes and stare—you know, just like everyone else in the place.  I'd feel bad if it weren't such a great excuse to introduce myself to the dreamy, mysterious stranger that'd been making Whitlock flare her nostrils for the past week. Niko shoves me to the ground, but I somersault away the instant I get to the mat.  I was raised with a silver spoon in each fist and I'd never grown out of doing as I pleased, when I pleased, with a skip in my step.  My brother on the other hand thinks I'll scare off the new guy before he's completely sold on being here with my "annoying ass personality." Pfff, what's he know? I cartwheel over to where he stands—the most bashful giant probably on the planet—with an axe propped atop my shoulder and my arm outstretched and shaking his hand vigorously. "If you needed help all you had to do was, axe." Okay. Okay, yeah, I think I'm getting what Niko meant now. "Terrible puns aside- I'm Felix. Nice to meet you," I say, smiling bigger now that I've got a closer look. "I'll help with this," I shrug at the mess. "Not that you'd need any help lifting- heavy, objects."  I wink at him as I let the head of the axe fall with a thud and drop his hand, only to offer him a finger gun, salute- thing.  Whatever. I roll with it, beaming bright cause the guy just oozes liquid sunshine. "So- what brings you to the axe rack today?"

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C O L T "If you needed help all you had to do was, axe." Heat erupts from somewhere deep in my chest, clawing its way up into the apples of my cheeks. The stranger's tone is softer than anticipated, lacking that steely edge I'd been taught to expect. There's still power - still a threat - in the way he moves. There's no way he's all showmanship. That striking appearance of his is meant to be a distraction. He's dangerous, no matter how hard he's trying not to look it. If my mothers taught me anything, it was that there are no sheep in the city. This one's got to be a wolf. Still, it's only polite to greet kindness with much of the same. His hand is comically small pressed against mine but the way he almost pulls my shoulder out of its socket with the force of his greeting dispels any comfort I might have taken in that. "You really don't have to." His compliment - I think it's a compliment? - almost certainly brings that blush to the surface of my skin. It had been simmering since the great axe disaster, but I'm much less used to this kind of conversation than embarrassment. It's strange, but not in the 'TJ leaving a frog in my sheets' kind of way. It makes me want to crawl out of my skin. It's all performative sunshine, that polite smile doesn't reach his eyes. Strange that they still manage to glimmer, an overcast morning without the threat of rain. I don't know what I've gotten myself into, but it looks like I'm already elbow deep. Sink or drown or play along. "Well I was supposed to start weapon training." The words are a low groan, rubbing my hand over my face as I survey my new work load. "Now it seems I'm just trying not to get kicked out." I laugh in spite of myself, like I always do. "If we're going to be partners in crime, you should call me Colt."

[arx!!]

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F E L I X I'd be lying if I didn't say that he caught me off guard with the charm that laced each word from smiling lips.  Okay, so- new, mystery boy was cool.  I mean, come on- who didn't love a boy who'd never committed a single crime in his entire life offering to sweep you off your feet with a wholesome, puppy dog grin?  Heh. I wonder what other buttons I could push. "Colt, then," I nod, grinning over my shoulder as I replace a pair of axes to their rightful spots.  I bend to pick up another, dragging it behind me as I motion for him to follow me.  "Come on," I drop my axe for a moment to skip back to him and pull him by the weapon he's yet to put down toward my office. "Come here, I'll show you how to use that thing," I decide against adding the, 'and make you look super badass doing it' part, though it was also true. My siblings loved pitching it to me that way whenever I'd complain about training—and clearly, since I'm still here today, the trick worked just as it was meant to. I twirl on my heel to face him with a grin that widens slowly. "Alright, ever walked in a straight line before?" I make a show of walking toe-to-toe in front of him. "Easy, yeah?  Okay, so, when you're done warming up-" I place the axe flat across the surface of the balance beam before swinging my way onto it as well and offering him a hand and a mischievous raise of a brow. "Promise I'll keep you from falling."

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C O L T I can taste electricity in this summer storm, the tang of regret cutting through sweet, humid winds. He's nice but I wouldn't call him kind. Those words are saturated with laughter at my expense, clever in the way he bites down on what I don't want to hear. This is as much for his amusement as it is my benefit. I'd say I don't trust him as far as I could throw him, but given his build that's probably pretty far. We make quick work of my mess, sinking into a comfortable silence. I catch myself glancing over at him a few times too many, he's full of those smiles I'd missed on the trek through the city. It occurs to me he's drawn more attention to us than my little mishap. Eyes bore into the back of my head, gazes both amused and disapproving. Sorry! I find myself mouthing at a particularly disgruntled looking career, figuring I'd held him up in some way or another. My feeble wave does little to soothe his ire, so I rush to follow my curious little stranger. Though he's offering assistance, I get the distinct impression I'm not allowed to decline. "Kind of you," I eye the balance beam dubiously "to run to the aid of a damsel in distress," Hard as I try to keep my delivery flat, a grin quirks the corner of my mouth. Always getting the better of me, those are. "You showing off or making a fool of me?" I grab his hand, swaying a few times too many before finding my center of balance. Once I've settled, I take advantage of the place we're still connected, tugging harshly on his hand in an attempt to throw him off balance. It's only fair. "I'm not scared, either way." It'd be more convincing if I actually meant that, I think.

[arx!!]

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F E L I X He yanks me toward him and I'm laughing,  but I've half a mind to punch him in the arm I latched onto to keep myself balanced.  He's steady—y'know, despite all my efforts to take him as far out of his comfort zone as possible.  I'm looking at him when I straighten myself out, like I'm actually seeing him for the first time—with the dimples and the smile and the heart of gold beating strong and steady upon his sleeve.  I can feel it struggling against my grasp. It makes me laugh.  Or rather, the heat flaring in my cheeks and the lack of oxygen in my lungs was making me chuckle breathlessly.  Shit, what the fuck? I take a breath; I'd been holding it. I straighten out, pulling my hand away from his bicep as I toss the curls on my head in my brother's direction.  "I've got eleven siblings," I start, shrugging off my jitters. "Including beefy and TERRIBLY BROODY AND UNSOCIABLE-" I pause and look at Niko to make sure he heard me. He cups his hands around his mouth and yells, "Fuck you!" from the other side of the training center. I wave because I know it annoys him. "See what I have to work with every morning?" I shrug, careful to keep my hand locked around his wrist to keep untrained limbs steady.  "You'll have to do better than that," I stand on my tip toes to get as close to him as I can before dropping his hand, taking a few steps back, and flipping to the edge of the beam, smile still intact when I land with flourished hands. He looked brilliantly out of place. Not a fish out of water, but a fish who'd been breathing air his entire life finally taking to water. "Okay, ready?" The joy just sorta rubs off.

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C O L T There's a flash of something genuine, flared nostrils and a slack expression. Not a trace of that careful smile less than an arms length away. I've got a bad habit of being brave a little too quick, 'til I end up tangled a mess of all these mistakes I care so much about. But it's exhilarating that I don't even need to know his name to get under his skin. Lean into the crash, it'll hurt less that way. The hearts worn on sleeves are full of calluses. My eyes fall to where his free hand rests on my arm and feel my grip tighten. Just enough that I can cling to this moment without him noticing. I've never thought of myself as particularly lonely person but I guess in some ways I am. It's easy to forget that there's more than the four walls i grew up in when every moment outside of them feels stolen. He gets closer to me, maybe to prove to himself that he can. "I've got eleven siblings." And you're one of the youngest. I bite my tongue to keep from replying, he's putting a lot of effort into this little moment and I'd hate to interrupt. The proximity is jarring, but not entirely unwelcome. Does being close to someone always feel this electric or does that have to do with the way the sun is reflecting off his eyes, gone pure liquid and something stranger. Embarrassment is long forgotten, but the heat in my cheeks lingers. Still, I can't help but laugh when he talks to his brother. It's so endearingly familiar, the most at home I've ever felt in the city. As if I wasn't already harboring a fondness for my new friend. He tells me to do better and I let my head fall to the side (and ever-so-slightly forward), "Was I trying something, friend?" Ignorance is only partially feigned. My hand feels cold when he pulls away; I must not of noticed how warm he was against my fingertips. "Ready." I give him a nod, expression falling now that I'm serious. I've climbed trees with Lotus before, but have ended up with a few too many scraped elbows to feel confident. Heel to toe to heel again, my teeth dig into my lip. All careful concentration. I almost lose my footing a few more times than I'd like but still find myself at the finish line, grasping his shoulders to keep my balance. "You know," I lean in, delivering the secret I'd kept safe under my tongue. It might be a little selfish of me, but I want to know if I can throw him off balance again. "I'm the oldest of seven. I don't think I have to try that hard." I'm not close enough that he can feel my smile, but he sure as hell should feel the soft laughter that follows.

[arx!!]

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F E L I X I tend to bite off more than I can chew, mouth full of bubblegum rotting my teeth and stiffening my jaw until my face freezes in a smile.  And I can't breathe, but damn does it sure taste sweet. And who doesn't enjoy an indulgence every once in awhile? Especially when his laughter felt like rock candy crackling on my tongue and his eyes glowed like candied gems.  What was the harm in just a small bite? "Uhhh," I struggle to remember what we were talking about as my gaze catches on lips I swear he's inching slowly closer.  "Whatever." I shake my head to rid it of cotton candy daydreams, but I'm still breathing in his air when I do it.  "Bet you're the favorite," I squint, coquettish grin upon my lips, playing off the awkwardness of the way I remove his hands from my shoulders.  I catch myself wondering if he planned on catching me when I pretended to fall or if the 'summer daydream' fragrance clinging to his skin was hiding something foul beneath. Or maybe that was just me. "Ever break the rules, stay out after curfew?" I eye him, tilting my head and raising a brow with each query. "Go to parties that cute boys named Felix invite you to? Just on a whim?" Honestly. I'm fucking insatiable.

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C O L T My hands fall to my sides, knocking me ever so slightly off kilter with fists clenched and a smile so wide it aches. I'm not sure what game we're playing, but I definitely just won. He's one of those guys that's ten feet tall in spite of barely reaching my shoulder, all bright bravado until he catches sight of the shadows we're casting. I just wish I knew why the way he looks at me feels almost... frightened? Like I've done something wrong by just playing along. "The favorite? My moms insist there's no such thing." I take a step back, more for his sake than mine. There's a split second where my heel meets nothing but air and I'm two seconds from taking a fistful of his t-shirt to keep myself afloat. If only I were a selfish man. Instead my shoulder checks the mat and sharp pain lances up into my neck. My vision goes white and for one, terrifying moment, I can't remember my own name. It's all impact and an ache that's anything but gentle. "I'm fine!" I shout, before I really know that I am. Forcing myself into a sitting position with one eye closed to brace against the pain. "Just... very clumsy." Considering this is the second accident I've had since we've met, I don't think that needed to be stated. Eager to distract from this newest mishap, my tongue rushes ahead of my better judgement, "Unless you count sneaking out to train?" My expression is all embarrassment, fingers raked through sweat-slicked hair to give them something to do. "Never broke a rule. Never stayed out past curfew." I hesitate and silence has never felt heavier, "Isn't that second part more up to you than it is me, Felix?"

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F E L I X I roll my eyes and fold my arms, hip cocked and eyebrow raised to match the coy grin I'm wearing.  "Says the favorite," I mutter, watching as his sunny personality finally carries him carelessly over the edge. I see the misplacement of his foot before I even get the chance to reach for him, curse falling from my lips instead as he hits the mat- hard.  And for a horrifying moment I'm certain I've actually gotten him hurt, but I can't move with my heart taking leaps and bounds from my chest or my hands shaking at my sides. "Colt?" He groans and I let out a sigh of relief that sounds more like an angry huff than anything else.  I'm such an idiot. I should've been more careful, been paying closer attention, foreseen this and avoided the situation all together, but—"Clutz."—I mutter my grievances aloud anyway, grinning because the alternative was letting him see just how worried I'd been. Though when I finally take the time to look at him, I find that he's all nervous hands and blushing cheeks. Too good for his own good, really.  I smile down at him, something truly warm and genuine rising to strum a chord on my heart strings.  I hope his own embarrassment keeps him from noticing. Any of it. "Really?" It's disbelief, but the light and easy kind. Despite the underlying theme of death games we all prepare and train for being the reason we're meeting.  "This," I gesture at the place with arms outstretched and some extra, fancy footwork as I walk toward the end of the beam.  "Is the big, bad thing for you? Hmm." I nod, blinking at him, eyelids the shutter of a camera, snapshot of a boy who'd just agreed I was cute with his long lashes and stupid, big, dimpled smile slowly developing within the darkrooms the rot within my mind had hollowed out.  The dark didn't seem so dark now though. "It's after training, tonight," I say, grinning, eagerly rushing through my words. "The party.  Everyone'll be thereee-" I swing my feet and hold tight to the beam as I lean in his direction.  "Including you, clumsy. And then you can check all three of those things off the list at once." "Besides," I tease. "I heard from a legitimate  source that even the favorites are allowed to have fun sometimes." I was rambling. Excitedly.  I think?  "So, c'mon, it'll be fun! Promise." I shake my head, laugh. "And no, it won't be like the time I promised not to let you fall, I- swear."