Eh, I was wondering when someone would write a Rester/Near story. Just a little fluff about how Near got into the orphanage and about an emotionally confused Rester.
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Rester:
I never really noticed before, Near's kind of, well, cute. The way his hair falls right at his eyes, how he's always playing with toys like he's a child. He has those eyes, those obsidian eyes. So pure. So unlike the killer, criminal eyes I'm so used to seeing. Those are so suspicious and unclear. But his eyes, they are just completely clear, like a soul untouched by sin. Yes, exactly like a soul untouched by sin. He's so tiny too. And fragile-looking. Probably because he never goes outside. He has those tiny shoulders and back, thin arms and small wrists. He looks like a girl. Like if you touched him he would just turn to dust. Like a butterfly. Yes, exactly like a butterfly.
"Rester? Rester." Oh, he was talking to him. "Could you review these tapes? I think there may be valuable information on them if examined closely…"
"Yes Near, of course." Yes, anything for you, Near. Anything at all. What is this? Why am I having these thoughts? Near's my boss, my co-worker, and he's a teenager. And a male. Yes. Near is all these things and that is why it is inappropriate to have these feelings for him. But why are they still here? Damn it. God damn it. This is so frustrating.
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Near:
"C'mon, Nate! Play outside! Come on!" his mother and father were calling to him. They wanted to take him on a walk to the store again. I hate the sun. It's too hot. But I go with them anyway because I want to be with them.
"It's dangerous to go outside, mommy. Teacher said." I don't want to be out here. It's too open, uncontrolled.
"I think she meant by yourself, dear. Isn't it nice to walk out here with the sun and the fresh air?" no, I want to say. It's bad. Bad bad bad. We should go back inside, where it's safe.
"Yes, it is." I say. I don't want to upset them. We're at the store and they're buying ice-cream. Strawberry, on a cone. I said. They pay the man then the door is busted open with a bang. A man comes in waving a gun. He's yelling incoherently. Only now I realize he's on drugs. My parents try to calm him. I've already hidden in the isles. It's too scary. Don't worry, Natey-boy. Me and mommy will make all the bad things go away. They always say to comfort me. But the man has a gun. He has a gun and he's pointing it at them. He yells and shoots them. He shoots them both. And then he shoots the man who gives us ice-cream. Then he runs. He runs out of the store and I go to mommy. She is bleeding. Like when I fell down and hurt my knee. But this is different. This is bad. Very bad. Its wet and its red. I don't like it but I stay. I hold mommies hand. She looks at me and I see something leave her eyes. Then her head drops back and she lets go. I don't like it. I hide. I hide in the shelves. Then there are loud noises. People in blue pants and shiny black shoes come and take my parents away. Then someone finds me. He is nice. He takes me to a sink and washed the red stuff off me. Then he lets me hold his badge. He asks me, 'What happened?' I tell him. Then asks me if I could come with him. I say, 'if my mommy and daddy say its ok.' He says they said its alright. So I go with him. When I am leaving I slip on something. Its my ice-cream, forgotten on the floor. He shows me men all standing in a line with numbers. I see the bad man. He is nervous. Then he yells and attacks the glass that separates us. The nice man drops me. He keeps hitting his head on the glass and I am screaming. And he screaming too. Then he stops and falls away. But I keep screaming. I wake up. Just a dream. Just a night-mare. I'm on the floor in the SPK. I'm not 4 anymore. I just fell asleep. Rester is leaning against the wall, asleep. He was looking at pictures. I crawl over to him. Rester. Such a solid name. I study him. He is tall, he is broad and he is strong. I know he's brave too. The top of his shirt's unbuttoned, his tie loosened. There is a little stubble on his face, as he hasn't shaved in a few days. He's just sitting there, sleeping. I crawl next to him. Then without thinking I put my arms around his middle and rest my head on his leg, curling up next to him. I know he's awake now, but he doesn't push me away like I expect. He puts one hand around my shoulders and another on my head and starts to stroke my hair. Tears slip from my eyes. It's comforting. I feel safe. He won't let anyone hurt me. He is solid. He is real and he is holding me. He could snap my neck right now. He could do it without any effort. But if he does, that's ok. If it's him, then it's alright. I close my eyes. I feel myself slipping back to sleep. "Rester…"I breath right before I slip into sleep.
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Rester:
I awaken to someone hugging me around my waist, tightly. I look down. It's the last person I expect. Near. I put my hand around his shoulders and pet his hair. I feel his quick breathing even out and his grip loosen. "Rester…" he whispers. Rester. I never liked that name. But the way he says it, pure poetry. I lean my head back against the wall, still stroking his hair. It's so soft, like silk. White hair, colorless from lack of sun exposure. I wonder why that is. My little butterfly, why do you hate being outside? My precious, delicate little butterfly. I close my eyes and let sleep take me.
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Aww, that was sweet. Just a little pointless fluff. But that was cute. .