I tried a new writing style for this one. That's probably not the best way to enter a fandom. To be honest, I don't even know what's going on here.


It was one of those things.

Maybe it was the way he moved. The cat like grace and the quiet, near silent steps. Maybe it was the way he spoke ever sentence in neatly clipped words. Maybe it was the blue of his eyes eyes that made him plummet over the edge.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe.

It could've been anything, but whatever it was, it wasn't going to happen. He could flutter his eyelashes all he wanted to. He could stare into the blue eyes and begin to feel himself, fall, fall, fall. He began falling faster and faster, there was no way to stop him. He could do whatever he wanted to. But, whatever it was. It wasn't going to happen.

Ever.

Ever.

Ever.

There would be girls, many girls. Only one of the boys went to the girls. Trying to lose himself in whatever he could find. Some old, some young. Some round, skinny, short, tall, black, white. The ladies ranged from the poor to the rich. He went after anything with a pussy and a nice set of tits. Anything in between. Just not him.

The looks they gave each other were weak attempts and they both knew it. It wasn't going to bloom into anything other than what it was now. And that wasn't much. Nothing other than a few bro nods and the occasional, when his brother pointed it out, eye fucking. If you can even call it that. One would do it when the other wasn't expecting it. Then his brother started pointing other things out. Things that made one of them grind his teeth and clench his fists and the other tilt his head in confusion. God forbid anything really did happen. It was a disaster tied in a pretty bow teetering on the edge of wrong and right.

It was absolutely absurd though. Two as one. One as two. The whole shabang in one go. It could've been anyone, he said. It wasn't destiny, he said. You had a reason and a purpose for coming here, he said.

He said.

He said.

He said.

Who do you really blame for starting it?

What does it all mean in the end?

When did this even begin to happen?

Where do you pick up from?

Why should we try?

How do you do it?

Who.

What.

When.

Where.

Why.

How.

Six questions.

Six answers.

Six questions left unanswered.