I love the way that sound just falls away in water, becoming nothing more than quiet rumbling in the background. I love the sweet sting if you dare to open your eyes, and I love the silken touch of reeds and sand beneath you.
I love the river, because it's peaceful.
This sultry August afternoon was just like any of my other summer holiday afternoons, spent swimming slowly through the shallow, cool waters, only returning to dry land to eat, or to check the time; I may have been sixteen, but by the way my mother reacted if I was home five minutes late, you'd have thought I was five years old.
The water was just the right temperature on this particular Tuesday afternoon. None of the little village kids had ventured out today, so there was none of the debris floating about that they would've kicked up playing, either. The little family of otters I was so fond of lay on the river bank, the pups scrapping cheerfully in the dirt. It was the sort of thing you see on a postcard. Then again, I'm hard-pressed to think of a more picturesque, postcard-worthy place than the River Myde. I was blessed to be born into more or less the most perfect little village in the whole UK.
I know very well that I could've stayed swimming there all day, amongst the reeds, but time passes. When the sky began to bloody with the setting sun, I finally crawled ashore, content at least that it had been an immensely enjoyable day, if not similar to all the others so far this vacation.
As per usual, I pulled the towel around my shoulders, picked up my bag and headed for home, sighing a little at the way my flip-flops squelched while I walked. That's something that's always annoyed me after I swim; such an artificial, intrusive sound seems almost rude in such a tranquil environment. Think whatever you want of me, but it's just one of my stupid little pet hates.
I realised, quite quickly, that I was especially hungry this evening. I had come out pretty early in the morning, and all I'd actually eaten in the last day was a jam sandwich, and that had been about five hours ago now. My mind began to wander shortly towards thoughts of home, and dinner, the way a teenager's mind does.
It must've wandered a little too far into the distance, as I can't think of any other reason which might've caused me to fall over the small lump of person sitting on the bridge.
I fell rather chaotically to the floor, swearing coarsely in surprise and scowling at the unforgiving scrape of chicken mesh on my elbows, reflexively twisting around once I was on the ground to see what it was I'd stumbled on.
He was quite small, but looked about my age; a serious-looking boy with curious, iron grey hair falling across about half of his face. His eyes were piercing, but he didn't really look very upset that I'd tripped on him – just a little bit surprised. I couldn't really blame him, I guess.
Slowly, I heaved myself into a sitting position, scratching absentmindedly at the back of my head in embarrassment. He just continued to stare at me, as if waiting for me to say something. Maybe he was.
"...Damn, I'm so sorry about that...! Wasn't looking where I was going...sorry..."
He remained silent for a few more seconds, just enough time for me to start worrying about whether or not I'd been forgiven. Eventually his pale lips parted, and he replied in a soft voice, like a breeze on water.
"Don't worry about it."
It may have just been those four words, spoken in a disinterested, dull tone, but there was something utterly bizarre about him that instantly made me curious. I still don't know just what it was – maybe it was just my ridiculously friendly personality – but I had to start a conversation with the kid I'd just fallen over.
His apparent lack of life made this difficult.
"...I haven't seen you around here before," I mumbled, wriggling a little until I sat beside him on the bridge, legs dangled over the edge, watching the evening dragonflies skimming the river below us, making ripples. He stared down at the water too, and I wondered vaguely what he thought of me. "Are you new around here...?"
I waited for a while for his reply. Somehow, even his dead tone sounded mysterious to me, intriguing, and I was willing to wait for his coldness to lift.
"I'm on vacation."
I couldn't help but laugh a little. "You don't sound so thrilled about it."
He shrugged briefly, brittle shoulders moving in a slightly jerky way, smiling wryly, eyes vaguely following the carp moving just underneath the water's surface. I don't know how they got into the river, but they sure were beautiful. "I'm not."
Interested though I was, I kind of wished he'd give me a little more to work with. I paused, mulling over my words carefully before I attempted a reply, trying to perhaps get a grin out of him. "Countryside not your thing, then?"
He half smiled, and I found the sight strangely saddening, and it wasn't long before I knew why. "Oh, it's not that. My sister's only got a couple of weeks left, she wanted to come down to see Nana one last time."
The silence following his answer was longer than I'd have liked, and extremely awkward. He didn't seem miserable. Just empty. I sighed heavily, scratching at my hair again. He was going to think I had lice if I didn't stop doing that.
"...Oh, I'm sorry, man..." I murmured, and he merely shrugged again.
"Not your fault, is it?"
That's an extremely good point. Why do we always say sorry when people tell us terrible things? There's so many weird little things people do, huh?
We sat in silence for a few moments, listening to the kingfishers hidden by the reeds and leaves. I half considered getting up and leaving, seeing as he didn't seem to be feeling too talkative. It seemed like it would've been a considerate thing to do; he probably needed some time to be alone, I thought. But before I could even make to get up, he spoke again. I had to listen closely to hear his voice. It very quiet, but it seemed to have some melody to it which made me want to hear it. It almost irritated me how he seemed to be having this surreal effect with hardly any words.
"What's your name..? If you don't mind my asking..."
I blinked a little, surprised. "Oh! Sorry, I didn't think to introduce myself... I'm Demyx. I live just across the fields, on the edge of the village." I pointed ahead, to the crest of a hill about half a mile away, where a couple of buildings nestled among the trees.
My quiet new acquaintance nodded slowly, following my gesture. "I see. My name's Zexion."
I smiled. It was nice that he finally seemed to be taking some small interest in keeping the conversation going. "Cool... So, um... How long are you staying here for?"
"Just until Sunday," he murmured, swinging his feet and sighing quietly. "We're staying in the bed and breakfast."
"The one down Skye Lane, right..?" That was the only B&B I could think of in the village. "That's just at the other end of my road."
Zexion smiled faintly, still watching the ripples and splashes of the fish below us. "Yes, that's the one," he replied softly. Neither of us spoke for a moment. It didn't feel as uncomfortable as the other silences so far, though. More like a companionable sort of silence. And when he spoke again, it suddenly occurred to me that it had been a silence worth enduring.
"Maybe... If you're not doing anything, maybe we could hang out tomorrow..? I just... I can't stand the atmosphere right now, with my family..."
I looked up from the water, and gave him the friendliest smile I was physically capable of, pleased that he looked up and made actual eye contact this time. "Hey, that sounds like a good idea! Of course we can!"
He looked relieved. "Thanks... It sounds stupid... But I need to get out... Hang out with someone my own age, just for a bit..." I shook my head firmly.
"It doesn't sound stupid at all. Is there anything specific you feel like doing?"
He shrugged, making to stand up. My gaze flickered momentarily to my watch, and I realised quite suddenly that I should really get going, too.
"Not really... Just talking would be good, if that's ok with you..?"
I nodded. "Sure. We could go sit in the Yellow Meadow, just over there..." I pointed again, to the lurid yellow field over to our left, positively blinding with buttercups. "I'll bring my sitar. We can chat as long as you want."
The smile he returned was tentative, but I could tell he was privately pretty excited about this, just as I was. It made me happy to have made a friend. And it sounded like he had a pretty trying near-future ahead... The responsibility of trying to keep him distracted from that felt inexplicably special.
"Well... I'd better get back now. It's getting late."
I nodded, quickly scuffling to my feet and beginning to walk in the general direction of my house, little more that a silhouette at present against the orange glow of twilight. "Same. My mum has a habit of flipping out if I'm home late... She's a bit over protective, I guess."
Zexion nodded in recognition of my words, walking along quietly beside me; his steps were very light and gentle, and the only thing to signal his presence was the swish of the dry grass around his knees. I liked it when people walked so carefully through nature as I myself did.
"My mum used to be a lot like that," he murmured, the halfhearted evening breeze tugging a little on his words. "But when Xion got sick, she sort of fixated on her. As long as eventually I do come home, she's not that fussed these days..." He clearly intended his tone to be nonchalant, but I could hear the vague twist of pain underneath.
We wandered in silence for a few minutes, gradually scaling the hill, both of us a little out of breath by the time we reached the top. I came to a halt by the little pathway that led directly into my back garden, staring down it vacantly for a moment before I looked back to my new friend.
"Well... That's me. Should I come by the B&B tomorrow morning at...nine, say?"
A calm nod. The strange, steely hair swished a little with the movement, and I found myself curiously fascinated by it. It seemed too chaotic, too...normal, to happen to such a silent, dark boy.
"Cool... Well, I'll be seeing you, then."
I turned away and began to walk towards the house, stopping instantly as I heard my name being called out; still, his voice was soft and controlled, but the wind carried it to me easily.
"Demyx... Thank you for talking to me."
The sincerity of strangers is such a rare thing, I thought fleetingly to myself, smiling for no reason I could fully explain and inclining my head just slightly to the side as I continued to walk homewards.
"Hey, no problem. Tomorrow we can do it again."
