In Full Bloom

Standing around awkwardly in Elmunt's room Camus could only smile, despite the uneasy feeling in him. He had been trying to push everything he was feeling aside, just for a little while, just while he was here.

Being an empath, being able to feel peoples feelings as well as he did, always did have its perks. He couldn't entirely complain about the way he grew up, however sheltered and lonely it was compared to now, and however much he had missed out in life. But there was nothing fun in realizing someone else's feelings before they themselves knew them; it felt...invasive and Camus would constantly be hurt by those feelings, or trying hard to hold back and not say the wrong thing, or the right thing to soon for that matter.

However hard it was, Camus forced himself to ignore everything.

Elmunt passed him a cup of tea with a smile, wondering what Camus was staring at.

"Your flowers aren't real." Camus laughed.

Elmunt chuckled, nodding his head, "I'm not very good at keeping real flowers." He placed the cup of tea on the dresser, leaning against it with one arm as he stared at the flowers, then laughing, "I don't even know why I keep them; they're not even half as beautiful as real flowers."

"If you like them..." Elmunt's smile flashed towards him completely threw Camus off from his sentence, trailing off unsure of what he was going to say.

Placing a finger just under Camus' chin the other student pulled urged him to look at him; Elmunt's delicate smile would have been an encouragement for Camus to get closer if he dared to, but certainly it wasn't one he would run from. So why did he want to do so the closer it got?

When Elmunt's warm lips touched his own cold ones something sparked inside him that he couldn't explain, but the suddenness shocked him. His fingers that held the tea cup delicately slipped on the smooth material and out of his hands. Distracted by the smashing sound to continue Elmunt looked to the mess on the ground and Camus wanted to apologize but instead found himself running.

Out the door and through the halls of all the dorms, down the stairs, tripping a little and getting out the door. He didn't want to feel that feeling again; it was so strange. Was it his feeling? Elmunt's? It felt so weird; that was all he could think. He slipped to a complete stop outside the greenhouse; his chest hurt so bad from the constricted breaths that had trouble going in and out.

"Camus?" Naoji called softly.

He looked over to the sound of the voice, the familiar voice of the Japanese student; he was standing in the entrance of the greenhouse.

"You're so out of breath. Why were you running?"

"Ah," He hauled himself off his knees, smiling faintly, "I fell asleep and forgot to come and water the flowers." He lied, going to walk past Naoji.

The Japanese student followed him quietly back into the greenhouse; he saw the red in his cheeks and the shakiness of his little body but dared not bring it up with him just yet. He knew that he hadn't been sleeping but he hoped that Camus would just bring up the truth on his own.

"You're lying; you were with that guy in his room."

Of course; Lui, sitting quietly on a bench with his book, had a completely different idea.

"Has he hurt you?"

"Of course not." Camus sighed and dropped himself in front of one of the rose bushes.

Naoji crouched down beside Camus, having shot a light glare at Lui. He watched Camus pick up the watering can from beside him, pouring the water at the stems but staring so much that he knew something was wrong.

Lui stood over Camus, watching him for a bit longer before pointing out,"If you keep watering them like that you're going to drown them."

Camus blinked and with that he saw the water collecting on the soil, encouraging him to put the can down quickly. He stood up, shaky at first, and turned to Lui, feigning a smile, "I'm fine, Lui; don't worry about me."

"And where are you going now?"

"I'm going to lie down."

"According to you, you were already lying down; why come running if you were just going to leave again?"

Camus didn't answer him, and Lui wasn't expecting one; Camus didn't like lying and lying to Lui's face was something he must've chosen not to bother with.

"You could learn to be a little gentler with him." Naoji sighed, jumping down the steps to stand beside Lui.

"The way I do things has always worked."

"You were harsh." Naoji pointed out. Two months ago he wouldn't have had the sort of relationship or courage to be able to say things so straightforwardly to his classmate, but now things had changed. Whether it was for the better or not he only ever knew by the look in Lui's eyes after the words left his lips.

Lui turned away and returned to his bench, opening up his book again, "I agree; I'm not fit to handle this situation delicately."

It felt good whenever Lui did agree him. Naoji wasn't the type to get any particular joy from being right exactly, but he did feel good when Lui agreed with him because it meant his way of thinking may be on par with that of the person he admired so much.

"So you go and do it."

"E?"

"If I hadn't interrupted you so many times you were going to be one doing it anyway."

"But..."

"So now you can go to Camus yourself and deal with things uninterrupted."

Naoji was always impressed; Lui seemed perfectly capable of reading and keeping a straight face as he threw someone into despair. He sighed heavily; defeated again.

"Make sure to be delicate, Naoji." Lui called after him as he left.

Naoji knew he was going to hear this from him for a while. He arrived at Camus room but he could've knocked a hundred more times and still there would have been no answer.

"He didn't come back to his room." Elmunt had been watching from the end of the hall, his fidgety appearance showing he still felt uneasy by the situation.

"I will find him."

There weren't all that many places that Camus could be; if he was on his own it was usually either his room or the greenhouse. He walked through the grounds and eventually found him sitting alone on a bench amongst more trees and flowers; such environments suited him well and it seemed they'd always be calling out to him whether he was conscious of it or not.

Naoji sat down beside him quietly. He was sure that Camus would speak to him first; he wouldn't even need to say anything and Camus would...

"You don't need to worry."

"What happened with Elmunt?"

Camus remained quiet for a little longer and Naoji realized he needed to urge the boy further, "Maybe I can help... I'm...not quite sure how but maybe I can." But quite frankly Naoji didn't have enough confidence to make a convincing argument.

"It's confusing."

"What is?"

"It feels funny." His hand over his heart helped Naoji understand just what he meant. Sometimes dealing with someone's own feelings was confusing enough; Camus had the pressure of someone else's to deal with also.

As a child his family, mostly his big brother's idea, Camus was constantly forced to stay inside. It was due in part to his weak body plagued by illness, but the rest had to do with this gift, or curse, of his. Too many people around him, too many thoughts and intense feelings, pushed him off the edge. Feeling that same constricting suffocating and painful feeling from back then Camus found himself wishing he was alone in his room again. A place where he was safe from everyone else's insisting thoughts and feelings.

"It's got to be confusing."

"It's..." He kept his eyes cast away from Naoji, hoping he wouldn't see right into him. "I try to block his feelings out, and I try to concentrate on mine, and...it's difficult; and I don't know which are mine and which are his anymore."

"But when you're not near him is it still difficult?"

"All the time." Tears were pouring down his cheeks that he constantly tried to hide from his friend. He smiled uneasily, "I'm such a child; I want and I want but I know I can't handle it..."

"There's nothing wrong with wanting, Camus; you're not undeserving just because..."

"But I make it more difficult."

"Have you spoken to Elmunt about it?"

"No, of course not. We don't...talk about those things."

"But...Elmunt has no problem with your..." They had never really called it anything. In Naoji's eyes, the amazing things Camus could do was something he would call a gift but Camus would hardly think so at a time like this. "He has no problem with the way you are and you know that; why did you run from him?"

"I panicked."

"But..."

"I know there's no sense in it." He rested his head on his arms, burying his face occasionally in the safe warm nook he could block things out for a little while from.

"Perhaps you could..."

"Talk to him? What will I say? 'I'm sorry I ran from you,' is not enough."

Naoji smiled tenderly, "I'm certain right now he just wants to know that you're alright, and that you don't hate him."

Camus' breath hitched at the idea. He seemed saddened all of a sudden; Naoji suspected it was either because he neglected how Elmunt must feel in a time like this, or the idea that Elmunt could hate him. Naoji noted Camus was just curling in on himself more and more, pulling his knees up to his chest and burying his face so he couldn't see him, or turning himself away. He didn't want to feel anymore.

"Camus..." He reached out and petted his head gently, willing the boy out of his hideaway as though he was trying to encourage a small animal into the outside world. "You got this far so don't run away now; whatever feelings you have then tell them to him."

Camus nodded his head promptly but he didn't seem all that convinced that he was capable of doing what was asked of him. "What's it like?"

"Pardon?"

"To be in love."

Naoji blushed, though smiled gently, "Wouldn't you know how to describe it better than I would? I'm sure you know how Lui and I feel."

"You're both very happy..."

"Love makes people happy." He chuckled, seeing the light smile tugging at Camus' lips, "But of course you know that already, don't you? He makes you happy."

"Lui just tells me...'never do anything you don't want to; doing something because you think you should only leads to trouble' but how do I know what I want to do and what I should do?"

"Lui...was speaking sense," Naoji pointed out, mumbling 'believe it or not' under his breath. "Maybe if you're able to talk to Elmunt more you'll know what to expect, maybe you'll have more time to think about what it is you want too."

Camus put his hands to his head, supporting it as it got heavier and heavier. He could hear everything Naoji was saying and yet it wasn't making any sense to him anymore. His feelings, Elmunt's feelings, everyone's feelings were pressing into him and he didn't know what to think or feel anymore.

Naoji stood up suddenly, alarming him, and held his hand out with the friendliest expression he'd ever seen on his face, "Let me walk you back to your room; you look like you need the rest."

They walked side by side back to the dorms in complete silence but he knew that he had gotten something small into his head. Camus jumped when his name was called again, by the voice he really didn't want to hear right now. His back was towards it and there was still a large distance between them but he knew he couldn't run. The man beside him gripped his shoulder gently, "I'll take care of him; go and rest." He had to remember to thank Naoji for this later. "But do remember what I said."

Elmunt sighed heavily before Naoji, stopping once Camus disappeared into his room. "He doesn't need to run from me." He huffed softly. "I'll leave him alone if he wants me to."

"He'll come to you when he's ready; give him some time."

"Is he angry?"

"He doesn't even know what he is at the moment." Naoji pointed out, trying to show him, subtly, that knowing how Camus was feeling all the time was going to be something Elmunt was going to have to get used to not knowing. "Just try not to push him too hard." He advised, leaving shortly.

Elmunt returned to his room and lay alone on his bed for most of the night, turning his classmates down for an evening of chatting. All he could think about was how awkward he was going to end up making Camus feel if he went to classes tomorrow. Then again, he didn't want Camus to think that he was being avoided either. He put both his hands to his face, wishing over and over and over again that Camus would just walk right through that door and tell him...anything!

There was a sudden knock on his door.

Of course it was probably his classmates again; they seemed like they were going to drag him out of the room the first time he turned them down so nothing would stop them from coming back for him.

Or it could be Camus, and maybe his wish sort of came through.

Sure enough, there was only one person with that small frail figure that would come to his door at this hour. When he opened the door and they both remained relatively silent Camus took the courage to walk past him, rather promptly, placing a small pot of purple flowers onto his dresser. "They're beautiful."

Camus stared at them for an extra moment, nodding, "They're not too difficult to take care of but..." He knew he was about to speak irrelevently, trying to pretend he didn't have anything else to say; he also knew it wouldn't do. "I'm really sorry."

"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything wrong, Camus."

Camus put his hands over his ears, "I'm sorry, really sorry," he backed up into the wall, "I just need to say it before anything else... Please don't say anything." He exhaled heavily, and though he couldn't hear much with his hands over his ears he knew that the other had quietly agreed to do as he asked. "I..." He crouched down, "I like you!" He rushed the words before he could even think about holding them back again. "But I'm...not good at this... It's only going to be difficult for you."

Elmunt waited another second to see if he'd say anything else before he reached over and pried his hands off his ears, "Why don't you try telling me something I don't know?"

"Hm?" Camus looked up; eyes glossy with moisture that he held back.

"When you like someone who can feel everything and see everything before it happens I know there's a chance it will be difficult." He smiled warmly, honestly, causing Camus' chest to swell further. "I know what I'm doing."

"But I don't. Doesn't that...bother you?"

"Not in the slightest." Elmunt pulled Camus back up to his feet, chuckling. "We can...take our time." He touched his lips very faintly with his own, smiling and watching for Camus' reaction. "How do you feel about that?"

Camus shivered and embraced himself in an attempt to stop it, "I like that."

"Really?" Elmunt found himself smiling wider. "Because I really like you too, but..." he chuckled, "I'm sure you already know that."

Camus laughed, nodding his head promptly. Of course he knew. He wasn't sure why he was so well-liked but he couldn't fight it much longer. His hands shook and he used them to grab onto the other, stilling them, "Please don't let me run."

Elmunt's smile got wider and he placed each hand firmly on the wall either side of Camus' small body, "If you say so."

Shaking to the tips of his hair Camus reached out to the man that leaned towards him, kissing him lightly back. Elmunt closed the gap between them, strong affectionate arms to hold him up when he felt like he no longer could, and Camus felt something he didn't know how to name. It felt warm.

"You should be proud of yourself." Lui announced as he entered his bedroom.

Naoji looked up from the table where he was pouring tea, staring at him wide eyed with curiousity. "What do I have to be proud of?"

"Camus has gone to Elmunt's room; he hasn't left though he's been there about twenty minutes."

Naoji huffed, "Have you been following him?"

"It's my responsibility to make sure he's not hurt here."

Naoji passed him the cup and saucer, sitting across from him with a smile on his face, "I think it's sweet how much you look after him. He's very grateful to you for all the courage you've given him until now."

"Is that what he told you?" Lui glanced up from sipping his tea.

"He didn't need to tell me."

Lui grunted and went back to sipping his warm drink.

"You should still continue to give him advice," Naoji said, leaning on the table, "but try to be a bit gentler with him sometimes too."

"Camus knows of my intentions." Lui stood up and approached Naoji, leaning down to capture his lips briefly, "As I'm sure, you do too."

Of course he did. How would he be able to deal with a man who only had cold thoughts? A man who didn't care for others or feel for them in their heartbreaking situations. Impossible. Naoji couldn't be with such a person. So he was with the person who had the best intentions, even if they were buried deep in his heart. He was still happy though, and he hoped that knowledge would be the key to Camus' happiness too. He was sure Camus would be happy. If there was anything that he was certain of in life it was that.

His confidence in that belief could only be fuelled though from his own lack of self-confidence; Naoji believed that if he, someone so undeserving, could receive a love as beautiful as this then he was certain that Camus, someone so deserving, would find his own happiness now that he had started to crawl out of his shell.

Naoji stood up into his lover's arms, smiling against his lips, "Don't worry about Camus."

"What makes you think I'm still worrying?"

"Aren't you?"

Lui smiled, pulling Naoji by the waist closer, "If there's anyone in the world I worry about it's you; you'll assist anyone with everything except assisting yourself with anything."

Naoji smiled faintly, leaning in and burying his face in the other's chest. He needed him to do it for him or he wouldn't even know where to start. As the strong arms wrapped around his smaller frame and engulfed him completely into a tender heat he remembered why it was always so hard to explain what love felt like. Love was just something to be felt.