Disclaimer: I do not own Christian, Syed, or any other characters recognisable from the BBC show EastEnders, to which it belongs. I am merely playing with their storyline and adapting it for my own enjoyment. I am making no money from this.
Introduction: Welcome to my first story. This is a Christian/Syed story, though it will include Syed/Amira, since the story has gone this way. The story follows the EastEnders canon up to the wedding day / New Year's Day, so there are spoilers up until that. This is the only part which is written in second person. The rest of the story will be in third person, and uploaded as soon as I can. Thank you in advance for your patience.
Warning: Male/Male relationship. Insofar, nothing too graphic; there's a lot of building up I've got to do before I can really progress with their relationship. Angst, too, I would say.
Prologue
The ground crunches beneath your feet amidst the burble of merry children. Delicate spiders of white drop down from the sky on invisible webs, kissing their rosy cheeks. Hunching against the cold, you watch them, knowing you were once like that. Times change; the world matures you, until you are no longer the child you recognise. There is no going back, yet it is the thing no one realises.
Coughing into your hands, you push your fingers through worn gloves, unthreading at the tips. Your eyes glaze over the white, past the giggles and happiness. For there, in the shade of the curling tree, sits a man. He watches the children just as you do, but there is a sadness in his eyes which does not come from mere lost youth. You want to go over to him, but you know he needs peace. Just for a moment.
He tilts his head, and the dying sun twinkles upon his tears. Snow settles around him, realising his pain and muffling the noises of nature blaring from the trees. The birds show no sympathy, twittering away from their perches as they stare at him with beady, black eyes. But he has no need to care; he does not notice. They give up, alighting from their branches and soaring into the sky, praising the night for its white gift.
The sun dips beneath the houses, wishing everyone a Happy New Year for the final time. Parents rush out like a swarm of bees, calling in their sons and daughters, until it is just you and him. All alone in the oncoming darkness, you take a step forward. Flakes of icy snow sprinkle on your hair like glitter. Like confetti. The comparison feels odd, given everything that has spiralled out of control today.
Without a word, you sit down beside him. His hand rests limply on the ground, rubbing a smooth stone beneath his fingers with a fascination that ought not to be graced to a rock. You know what he is thinking, though. Your cold hands encase his, giving him comfort where they lack warmth. He glances up at you, startled, and you realise he truly has been in his own world. A small smile lifts the corners of your lips, but there is no happiness left in the night. He grimaces back, and turns away.
"Please," you whisper to him, squeezing his icicle fingers. There is no response, not even the barest flinch of a muscle. It breaks your heart to see his own breaking, knowing not one thing you do will ever make it better. You have never been able to help him; he is too strong to let you past his barriers. Even when he does not know the way forward, though you have traversed the path more than he, you are still faced with his stony back. But he is far from a statue; cold and unfeeling are not words which could ever be used to describe him.
Inching closer, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. Your chin presses into his shoulder, and annoying weight he cannot ignore. His head shifts minutely to look at you. The dull shine in his eyes shreds the very earth upon which you walk into tatters. "Leave it," he breathes, his voice shaking like an earthquake.
You shake your head against him. A heaving sigh racks his body as he crumples into himself, as small as a ball. Absently, you rub his heart, scrutinising him as his gaze shifts imperceptibly to the movement. Pulling back, you move to face him straight on. Touching the underside of his chin, you wait until his eyes meet yours. Keeping your voice steady and gentle, yet determined, you promise, "You will get past this. Time will heal it. And I'll be here when you are ready to talk."
Brushing his cheek affectionately, you stand up tall. The snow fades away, clinging hopefully to its final flakes before it stops. Beneath me, the precious white is almost as black as onyx in the lightless night. Although you cannot bear to leave him, your brother still needs his silence. The time for intruding has gone.
"You... I," you whisper reluctantly, refusing your brain's request to simply walk away, "It was never going to work. I know you know that. It's harsh, but true." When he nods, you do not expect it. For a moment, you gawp blankly. Tears prickle at your own eyes. Clearing your throat, you turn and walk away, feet crunching in the fresh snow.
In the shadows behind you, there is a loud gasp as the tears finally fall freely. Your turn the corner, and let him mourn his lost dream with the stars for company. Each footprint leads away from him, and to the fallen figure, it is just another person walking away from him.