i suppose that makes us soulmates { scarred I - I

[arx!!]

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C R I S P I N Goosebumps rise across my shoulders as I wake from a nightmare with a startled gasp.  But the soft patter of a gentle rain against my window washes away the fear in an instant. I don't even remember what the nightmare had been about, only that it was finally raining and I was cold.  I make a mental note to start a fire for Mom before I leave. I throw on an extra jacket before I leave, waiting a few extra seconds to watch my exhalation disappear into the sky and some droplets roll off the fingertips of my leather gloves.  It's a beautiful morning and I'm not ashamed to admit that my rubber boots splashed in each and every puddle on the way to the Rosewood estate. Spotlights flashed on around the drilling rigs on the horizon as I made my usual rounds through the stables and walking the edges of the pastures.  I've moved onto laying down fresh bedding for the cattle when Ceres shows up—yes, naturally, by scaring the absolute shit out of me. "Ceres." I gasp, clutching at my chest as my heart races and rolling my eyes in anguish that I let her get me so good for the billionth time.  Then I grab a pitchfork off the wall, walk it over to her, force her hands to hold it, and nod, satisfied that if anyone peeked inside the barn they'd see a farmhand taking a moments rest after a hard days work. And then I sigh, backing away to pick up my own pitchfork and continue picking apart the straw bale in front of me with a smile hidden beneath the brim of my hat. "Please tell me you didn't vandalize anything on your way in here?" The question was more of a joke at this point. I wouldn't be able to call myself her best friend if I didn't already know that she had.

[[nyte]]

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C E R E S I wake up with a mouth full of nails. Scratchy as I swallow them, clattering around in my gut as the haze of morning finally fades. The sun has yet to crest the horizon, bathing this morning in a heavy crimson fog. Much as I'd rather pull the covers over my head and fall back asleep, I have a promise to keep. There's only one person I'd actually care if I disappointed. Much to my dismay, he's a stupid fucking cowboy in a stupid fucking hat. Trust me, if I could go back and choose my best friend? I would. But now I'm stuck with the guy. Dio stopped locking the doors after I kept picking them, but still, I jump from the second-story window just to feel my ankles burn. The threat of bending without breaking, tendons stretched too thin but not brave enough to snap. It's a fine line I walk, one I know won't always work out for me. That's what makes this fun. I get to sit with the consequences as they rot. Crispin's way too good for me. Anyone who's spent more than five minutes in our presence can see that and about half of them don't hesitate tell us as much. Like it's some new revelation and not a something we've both known since we were like eight. It's a little game of tug of war, see? How far can I make him fall before he pulls the both of us back up into the clouds. Then I burn up in the atmosphere and wash, rinse, repeat. My palms scrape against the sharp edges of the Rosewood stables, shallow little gashes beading ruby along my wrists before I use them to stain fresh-washed jeans. "Incoming!" Unabashed, at the top of my lungs as I jump off a rickety wooden post and right into Crispin's path. "Ceres." I pout. "All that and I just get a Ceres?" He doesn't answer because he knows I don't want one, forcing a pitchfork into my hands because I'm not picking one up myself. I mimic stabbing myself in the throat with it while he picks up his own. "In my defense there was already a hole in the chain-link, I just made it bigger." Though I do feel a little bad old man Cruikshank is gonna have to chase down his goats. Again. "You still look ugly in that hat, by the way." All bark, but less bite than I'd give anyone else. "So what's my job today, bossman? I am but a humble, law abiding citizen who just can't wait to give back to her community." My smile has too many teeth.

[arx!!]

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C R I S P I N She pitches me like I'm boring and have no sense of humor.  And, yeah, I can get on board with the boring thing, but—"Nahhh, noo- don't listen to her, she's just jealous."—slander against such a lovely lady cannot be tolerated.  I pat the top of my hat to keep her feelings intact as I continue to work, mapping out when I'd have to help chase the goats back into their pen. I roll my eyes when she calls me 'bossman', but I'm smiling and repeating the word quietly to myself as she continues.  That was one similarity between us at least—we both had a lot to say a lot of the time. When we were little, Mom liked to say, "You two just have a lot of stories to tell." The memory always makes me smile. "And, honestly," I'm shaking my head, grinning as I walk back over to her, trying to slap my hat on her head. "To think I had something planned that I thought you might actually enjoy."  I give up my endeavor after a few more tries, returning to work with a shrug. In truth, the guilt was eating me alive a little bit.  See, she was the one who snuck out late at night and threatened people three times her size with makeshift weapons and relished in striking fear into the hearts of unsuspecting teenagers.  I was the good, boring boy in the very super cool and handsome cowboy hat who did his chores and cooked his Mom breakfast on cold, rainy mornings. So, like- I needed Ceres here—she made ignoring my better judgment easier.  It was hard not to love the way she lit up when she heard the words, 'breaking and entering.' "So I did not steal these," I say, pulling the heavy key ring from my jacket pocket and dangling them from a gloved finger. "But I do need to return them without getting caught, andandand, see-" My mom would also say I have a tendency to ramble anxiously, too. "I've got a friend who loaned me some of their clothes, like uniforms or whatever- no questions asked -so, just- like- stand there and look like you belong here, or, y'know," I'm talking with my hands, tossing the keys at her with a grin. "You could help me with this and we could be done faster?" The Rosewood estate wasn't going to explore itself. "I've heard rumors that there are, like, secret passages to secret rooms just- sitting, untouched, for years."

[[nyte]]

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C E R E S "Don't talk to it!" My tone drops into a whine, quiet enough that only Crispin can hear. No one would believe you anyway, I once said, through heavy lashes and pouting lips. There's some secrets I force him to keep. If only they were all as lighthearted as this. Here's hoping he still remembers what my dad's face looked like, because it's all faded for me. All I recognize of my Mom anymore is that look of molten pride in Dio's eyes whenever Crispin's over. So hopeful and bright, the kind that would burn if it were directed toward me. I know it hurt to keep their photos around after the accident and it's no skin off my back if I don't remember what amounts to little more than familiar strangers. It was more Dio's loss than mine anyway. We were so young then. I take pride in the fact I'm just as carefree. "Nothing on this stupid ranch would ever be-" He holds up a set of keys and I swear I feel prideful tears well up in the corners of my eyes. I'm laughing too loud, suddenly so full of energy that I'm struggling to contain it. I press my fingers to my lips, bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet a couple of times before I catch myself. "Baby's first theft!" I have to stand on my tip-toes to pinch his cheeks, but I'd never let that stop me. It's darling, really, that he's trying to justify this little act of rebellion to me of all people. He's got to know I'm the last person who'd care, but he's still got to say it. To soothe that fragile conscious of his. Even now I notice the guilt weighing on his shoulders, just a bit more tense than they should be. That's why I'm here, see. I carry that for him. I catch the keys and watch him relax into a smile. "Is it my birthday?" I'm grinning too, striding toward the estate without care or consideration. "Are you trying to woo me Mr. Wedgewood?" In spite of how happy that'd make Auntie Dio, all the time we spent pining over girls together in middle school makes it pretty obvious that's not the case. "Or have you finally joined the dark side?" He's too slow, always too cautious. So I grab both his hands and force him to match his pace. I know I can't give him enough time to second guess our next big mistake. It's nice he's always finding ways to remind me what it's like to be happy. "Thanks for this, big guy." I twirl behind him, pressing both my hands into his lower back and shoving him harshly toward the door, "Now c'mon. It's your heist, you gotta enter or I'll start the breaking~"

[arx!!]

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C R I S P I N I fight half-heartedly against her as she guides me very gently and without shoving or pushing at all away from my haystack and toward what I know is a cliff's edge—and knowing Ceres we'll likely be jumping without parachutes.   Not that I didn't always bring one for each of us, strapping them on and yanking our cords just before we make a mess of the world below. "Waitwaitwaitwaitwait-" I don't bother trying to hide my smile as I speak, chuckling through my teeth, eyes crinkled at the corners as a childish delight kept me warm in the rain.  I spin with a little more excited force than I mean to, slipping in the mud and flailing for a moment before steadying myself with sigh of relief.  "No breaking anything, I'm trying to return these," I snatch the keys back from her before she gets the chance to throw them at me.  And, yes, she'd proven the tactic worked like a charm many, many times. "Without getting fired, very important part."  It's something I'm not sure Ceres could ever understand, but I like it here.  There's mystery within the walls, adventure around every corner, a new story to obsess over every night as insomnia rattled my mind.  "Maybe we'll even run into Marcus Rosewood," I whisper the statement to myself as I turn away from her, bouncing as happily as the raindrops in the puddles at my feet. He's kind of- like, the coolest guy in the whole world , I'm pretty sure? My mom may or may not have a storybook written in crayon and addressed to the heir of the Rosewood estate from a very excited eight year old who drew stars over every 'i' in his name—please, please don't ask her to show it to you. "Oh, and no theft either!"  I'd nearly forgotten.  Clearly wasn't feeling as guilty as I should be about becoming an outlaw.  I spin toward Ceres again, pulling my shirt over my nose and mouth before tracing the brim of my hat , pulling it low. "Outlaws,"  I try as hard as I can to give her my best—'I'm serious.'—look before continuing. "But in name only."  I add a please at the end before giving her shove and sprinting toward the entrance to the staff block where our disguises lay freshly pressed, polished, and tucked away. It's halfway there that I slow with single thought on my mind. "Do know how to tie a tie?  The bow kind?"  I ask, uncertain about Ceres' talents and skills for the first time in years.  "Because I'm pretty sure they all wear ties..." I rub at the stubble on my chin, eyebrows knitting with worry—I've never worn anything fancier than a bandana before. Maybe this was one of those a really bad ideas I should've let fizzle out. "I'll look good in one, right?" Guess we'll find out.