A/N: Originally posted on LJ 8/17/07. Title from The Fray - "How To Save a Life"
The trees made silhouettes against a gradient of orange and blue sky. In mere minutes they would be surrounded by darkness, but Moritz didn't say anything and Melchior didn't move.
Moritz wasn't used to being out this late and most nights he wouldn't dare. However, it was a warm summer evening, with stars bright and crisp in the darkening sky... Melchior had his back against a large oak and looked entirely untroubled, his eyes fixed on some point in space. Moritz didn't feel the guilt he should've felt, the crawling feeling that usually sent him running back home at dusk. There was something about the way an otherworldly quiet hung between the trees and between the boys that made it seem like the stars weren't a shade brighter than they were a moment before, that the orange was always so dull. Made it seem okay for the boys to linger a moment longer.
Moritz's eyebrows were furrowed as he watched Melchior being uncharacteristically silent, his back against that tree and his hands pressed against the roots as though he were unconsciously trying to become a part of the wood. Perhaps it was the quiet, aside from the rustling of leaves as the wind brought a sudden chill, that brought Moritz to realize that he had never really looked at Melchior so closely before – never really taken the time.
It struck Moritz how odd it was, really, that he might find himself there. His family, his teachers, measured success and worthiness in academic things – and that was one area, in what seemed an endless pool of them, that Moritz did not succeed in. Melchior, however, was an excellent student. He displayed a confident presence and an air of rebelliousness that Moritz lacked entirely. Melchior's achievement seemed to have been simply handed to him by some force of the universe – an idea, Moritz was sure, Melchior could hypothesize about for hours on end. Yet, here the two of them were, a mismatched pair, sitting alone in the woods and welcoming darkness with a solemn sort of silence.
The branches swayed and leaves rustled in the breeze; Moritz pulled his jacket more tightly around him, folding his arms across his chest. Melchior hardly moved, only tilting his head just slightly as though the wind were carrying a tune. Moritz considered if perhaps the heaviness growing between them was something only he felt.
"It's getting late, perhaps I better go," Moritz said softly, his voice a separate entity from himself. Melchior gave a slight twitch and Moritz could almost see, in his features, in his eyes, the sudden separation between Melchior and the forest – between Melchior and those occasionally profound thoughts he seemed to pull out of nothing. Moritz wondered if perhaps Melchior had forgotten he was even still there – if perhaps that was why the silence held so long.
"Yes, that would probably be wise..." Melchior replied, his unnatural tone betraying the lingering of his daydreams. He sat up straight, blinking, seeming to pull himself fully back to reality at last. As the dream-like quality of the moment quickly faded, Moritz almost wished he could take it back, that he could push back the tendrils of reality and responsibility for a moment more.
But, Melchior rose to his feet, gazing out into the shadows of the forest as he offhandedly brushed the twigs and leaves from his clothes. Moritz reluctantly pulled himself up also, a clumsy act devoid of Melchior's aura of esteem.
Lights from the houses soon lit their paths home, and casual conversation began filling the space between them. Moritz's thoughts filled with their usual anxiety as he could almost feel the presence of his home grow nearer.
"Goodnight, then," Melchior said finally.
Moritz felt pale and small in the glow of the domineering houses and he didn't meet Melchior's eyes, just said a neutral, "Goodnight," before they parted.
When Melchior was gone and he had only his own front door before him, Moritz took a moment to chastise himself, to prepare himself for the harsh words he was about to face.
The silence, however, still lingered in his memory – the relief that had settled over him in that moment of carelessness. He opened the door slowly, readied himself, but when he repeated in his mind that he regreted his neglectfulness sincerely, it didn't feel that sincere at all.