Disclaimer: I don't own Life Is Strange or any of its characters.
Warnings: Angst and swearing.
Pairing: slight Caulscott
A/N: I tried writing fluff but I gave up halfway and this is what I came up with. I hope you enjoy and that this is not too bad, I had many writer blocks while redacting this. Anyway, reviews are very much appreciated so don't forget to leave a comment :)
Where is my mind
The first thing that comes to your mind as you're staring at the ceiling is that the night is silent. Way too quiet. You don't like it because it allows your thoughts to circle through your head over and over in a loop, not giving you a chance to rest.
You've tried turning in bed, counting sheep, listening to soft music; none of these things have aided you in your quest to find sleep. On the contrary, they make you more anxious.
The unbelievable events of today keep replaying themselves, being the main subject of your thoughts.
What the hell is going on?
Out of nowhere, a lot of crazy things started happening in what would have been a perfectly normal day in your relatively boring life. First, you see a girl get shot by no other than Nathan Prescott, then you realize-quite concerned for your mental health- that you're able, somehow, to control time and after being involved in a lot of teenage drama it turns out that the girl in the bathroom was actually Chloe, your childhood best friend-the one you had been avoiding. All of that without counting your crazy visions about a massive tornado wiping out Arcadia Bay and that weird snowfall in mid afternoon.
You just can't believe everything happened on the same day.
No, scratch that.
You can't believe any of that happened at all.
Yet, here you are, wide awake, incapable of falling sleep. Turning things over in your mind. The physics books and the strange theories about time traveling didn't help the situation either. Now you have more things to ponder and half of them you don't understand.
Sighing, you sit up; look at the wall covered with your photographs.
NOBODY MESSES WITH ME BITCH is scrawled in red paint, glaring at you, provoking you.
Your stomach twists at the sight. Eyebrows knitted, expression disbelieving, you wonder what the actual fuck is wrong with the Prescott kid.
The aggressive way he handles himself, how he threatened you when you had done nothing wrong, the psychotic rampant in the bathroom before Chloe came in, his unfocused blue eyes. The guy must have some screw loose up there, you conclude, remembering the creepy way he acted.
He definitely needs help.
You shake your head, vanishing every thought about him. You shouldn't be wasting your time thinking about scum like Nathan Prescott, anyway.
Tearing your eyes away from the wall, you get up from the bed. The ground is cold beneath your feet.
You pace around the room, not knowing what to do.
A glance at the clock tells you it's around one a.m.
You still have classes in the morning.
Too much for sleeping now, huh.
Seeing that sleep is not going to come to you anytime soon, you decide something drastic.
Something you wouldn't do in a normal situation.
You draw the curtains and take a peek outside. You bite your lip; weigh the pros and cons of what you're planning to do. In the end, you think it's worth giving a shot.
The hallway is empty as expected when you come out of your room, closing the door behind you.
All the lights are turned off; a chill runs down your spine and it's not exactly from the cold.
C'mon Max, don't be stupid.
You use the light of your cell phone to make your way through the darkness, moving your head from side to side just in case someone decides to come out of their rooms. You step on something and make a face; you probably don't want to know what it is. Feeling creeped out, you move on.
Juliet was right; I AM the Blackwell Ninja, you think, smiling from ear to ear, as you finally reach for the doorknob.
There are many things you imagine seeing once you exit the dorms.
Blackwell Academy covered in darkness and mystery, showing its true beauty. Beauty that is normally hidden during daylight.
At night though, it comes alive.
You imagine the grass under your bare feet, the soft breeze on your skin, the pale glow of the moonlight.
The perfect atmosphere for relaxation.
None of your fantasies, however, involve a certain problematic boy sitting on the steps.
Surprise.
Grin stuck in your face, you stand there frozen in the doorway. Sensing your presence he whips his head around so fast you fear he might snap his neck.
Blue meets blue.
Nathan Prescott in all his glory is right there in front of you. Staring at you. Eyebrows raised and mouth hanging open as if you caught him doing something nasty.
You stare back without a clue of how to react.
His stare drifts to your naked legs (self consciously,you look away; it's now that you realize you're only wearing your PJs). His mouth closes with a snap.
A frown settles on his face
Nathan mutters something under his breath (probably a synonym of bitch), before deviating his gaze somewhere else and-
Are the tips of his ears turning red?
No, no way. Damn, sleep deprivation it's taking a toll on me.
A few seconds pass by and you cool down a little from the embarrassment of having him seeing you in your pajamas and now, with a clear mind you wonder what the hell he's doing out here.
Or better yet.
Why haven't you walked away?
He being here is definitely not good; the guy must be up to something.
And after that showdown in the parking lot you don't want to have anything to do with him unless necessary.
Again, your thoughts contradict your actions.
There are many things you should be doing right at the moment that you're not.
Like walking far, far away from the unstable teen.
You don't, though.
You don't make a move.
You fold your arms and glare at the strangest interesting person you've ever met.
He's hunched over himself, hands on his knees, completely ignoring you. Trapped in his own little world.
There's a different air about him now. Different from the one in the bathroom that screamed danger, different from the one in the parking lot that signaled crazy.
Curiosity wins out against logic.
You don't know what it is yet, -what's really changed- but you're going to figure it out.
Later, that will be your excuse to justify what you do next.
You take one hesitant step forward, you wet your lips and taking a leap of faith, you sit down next to Nathan Prescott.
You don't look at him. Eyes straight ahead, hands nervously shaking on the pavement, you wait for something.
For what, you don't really know.
The tension between you is thick, if it's one sided or coming from both, you don't know.
At this point you don't really know much about anything.
You glance at him from the corner or your eye.
Nathan shakes his head, licks his lips and decides to break the silence. "What the hell do you want now, Max Caulfield?"
Tired, annoyed, anxious.
No rage.
That's what he sounds like.
"I couldn't sleep" you say truthfully, looking with a sudden interest at your reddening toes.
"So fucking what? Go bother someone else" he growls.
"Are you always this rude?"
"Only to big mouthed bitches like you"
"Ok, let me rephrase. Are you always such an asshole?"
Nathan is not amused. Frown deepening, clicks his tongue "Get the fuck away from my face before I do something drastic"
A scowl starts to form in your face. You did not sign up for this shit.
(This was your choice.)
"What are you gonna do? Pull out a gun on me?" the words rush out of your mouth when Nathan starts to look more irritated by the second "Chill out, dude, okay? I'm not here to start anything" you try to pacify him.
"Then you're doing a shitty job" still upset, he runs his fingers through his hair "Wasn't rattling me to the principal enough, dyke?"
Lips pressed tight, you try your best not to tell him to fuck himself. Goddamit, you're trying to be civil with all your might. You shouldn't have to be.
Instead you say "Call me whatever you want, but I'm not moving"
"That wasn't an invitation to stay, Caulfield. I don't know if you've heard of it but there's this little thing called privacy"
"Ha, ha, ha. Very funny"
"I wasn't trying to be… hoe"
"Jesus" you mutter, dazzled at the ridiculous boy at your side. If you didn't know any better you would dare to say he was socially inept.
You shake your head, choose to keep trying. "What-"you stop, rub your hands together "What are you doing here?" your tone for some reason sounds softer than what you intended.
"What the actual FUCK, Max, serious-"
"I'm sorry" you apologize quickly, cutting off his rampant. You don't understand why you said it; there was no need to apologize "I'm serious Nathan… I don't want to fight. I'm too tired for this" You make a vague gesture between yourself and him. "Can we just forget for a second whatever happened today? Please?" your eyes linger on his face, looking for signs of surrendering.
He doesn't say a thing, purses his lips and for a second, you're afraid he might snap at you. Nathan doesn't. Covering his face with his hands, he takes deep calming breaths, as if he's carrying out an internal battle with himself.
You let him.
You play with your fingers-a nervous habit- while looking at the starred sky above, letting the new found silence soothe the tense atmosphere.
Too much for relaxing, either.
You briefly wonder if the universe is secretly plotting against you. It wouldn't surprise you, with all things considered.
"I couldn't sleep, too"
To say you're surprised would be an understatement, because just when you thought any kind of possible conversation involving the weird boy was off the table, Nathan goes and throws you off balance once more. You never expected he'd answer.
He takes your lack of speaking as a cue to continue "There's so much shit going around in my head these days and I just…."
"Needed a break" you finish his sentence, nodding. "Yeah, I know the feeling."
"Lately, it seems like there's just too much of that going on"
He hums in agreement and falls quiet again. Encouraged by him actually talking, and somehow not wanting to stop, you spew the first thing that comes to your mind.
"Hey, is it true?"
"Is what true?" grumbles, no frown on his face this time.
"I've heard some people say you once tried to steal Tobanga" you raise your eyebrows; you realize you're actually pretty curious "Well, did you?"
"Of all things, Caulfield" he rolls his eyes. Probably you're not the first person to ask him that. "I was pretty smashed, okay? At the time it seemed… legit. Like, it was just there and I thought: Why the fuck not? You only live once. And the rest is history"
The image of Nathan Prescott trying to lift the heavy ass totem is way too hilarious and a giggle escapes you before you can repress it.
And then another.
And another one.
Soon enough you've erupted into full blown laughter, clutching at your sides.
You shouldn't be laughing.
This is not a funny situation.
Maybe the pressure has finally fried your brains or you're simply going insane.
Whatever it is, you can't stop laughing.
A deep, musical sound reaches your ears.
Your laugh gets stuck in your chest.
Nathan fucking Prescott is smiling. Laughing even. Teeth flashing in the night, dimples flaring, eyes wrinkling at the corners.
He's got dimples? You think, dumbly, feeling like you're witnessing a life changing event, even rarer than the snowfall.
Is this happening?
As quick as it began, though, it stops. Nathan comes to his senses, faster than you, looking incredibly uncomfortable all of a sudden His expression shuts down.
He's put his mask on again.
A part of you feels sad at the loss. For the first time since you've known him Nathan looked… like a normal teenager. For the first time he looked like any other student at Blackwell Academy.
(Human).
(Handsome).
"You should smile more often" You find yourself saying without thinking and WHAT THE FUCK. Nathan's eyes widen and you just start to panic internally.
No fucking filter, Max. Shit.
Knowing Nathan he'll probably get the wrong idea.
You begin to formulate many excuses, and they're ready on the tip of your tongue, ready to come out, but his expression has turned somber and that, that renders you speechless.
The smile is officially gone.
"Why?" he asks "What it's there to smile for?"
His blue eyes look so intense and you're not sure if the question is meant for you.
Suddenly your throat feels dry. The stupid need to apologize resurfaces again but, apologize for what, really? What do you care if the rich kid is too emo for smiles, anyway?
Despite that, you tell him "… What's the harm in acting out of character once in a while?"
There's a gleam in his eyes that wasn't previously there. His eyes scan you, searching for something in your face, analyzing you. You meet his gaze straight on. Whatever it is he was searching for, he finds it, seeing him nodding to himself as if confirming a fact.
He remains quiet.
You can't find it in yourself to start up conversation again.
What were you thinking?
Laughing, all vulnerable next to the enemy.
Chloe would be so disappointed in you.
But you're curious. Awfully so.
Curiosity will be your downfall.
"I can't believe this shit"
Nathan is the one who voices your thoughts out loud.
"You're a nosy bitch, Max… but I'm tired too so consider yourself lucky, I'll play along with your bullshit"
You snort. At least that's something.
"What did you mean earlier?" cautiously, you ask him the question that has been plaguing your mind for the last few minutes "When you said there's nothing to smile for?"
He shrugs.
"Well, that was enlightening."
"What do you care?"
"I'm curious"
"Curiosity killed the cat"
"Didn't you just say you were going to play along?"
The corner of his lips curve slightly upwards.
"Trying to analyze me?"
"I think you said you paid people for that"
"Nice memory, better watch your words"
"Are you planning on answering any of my questions someday?"
"Give me one good reason why I should do what you say"
You drum your fingers impatiently on your knees "You really got problems with others telling you what to do. Alright, let me see. For one, we both can't sleep for whatever reasons or else we wouldn't be out here and two we have nothing else to do, so we might as well try to get along"
"What makes you think that I have nothing else to do?"
"Really?" You challenge, not undeterred by his sarcasm.
"Okay, maybe you have a point."
Nathan leans towards you, animosity no longer clouding his eyes "Entertain me then, Caulfield"
Huffing, you back away a little, unconsciously. "Erm, wait a sec"
You get up from the steps, stretching your sore limbs, entwining your fingers and cracking them up. Nathan still sitting, peers at you, brow slightly furrowed.
You motion him with your head to follow and right before he can speak you launch yourself to the grass below, rolling on your stomach so the night sky is above you.
"What the hell?!" exclaims Nathan a little too loud.
You shush him "Come here. Loosen up a little"
"This is the weirdest fucking night ever"
"What? Afraid you'll get your expensive clothes dirty?"
Why are you acting so friendly?
That does it.
In less than five seconds Nathan is settled right next to you.
"Screw you" he says between gritted teeth.
You laugh giddily.
"The fuck are you so giddy for?"
"I have no idea. This is totally the weirdest night ever"
"I just said that"
You agree, turning on your side "So… I'm stil waiting for your answer"
He sighs, rubs his temples "How can I say this?... Can't you just forget it? You wouldn't understand anyway"
"Try me" you dare him, determined to know.
"My life is hell" Nathan claims with no preamble whatsoever.
And you stare at him like he has lost his mind.
"Your life is hell? Really? Is this some sort of reality show? Dude, you practically own Blackwell Academy. Hell, your family owns Arcadia Bay, what is there to feel sorry about?"
After you said it, it actually sounds kind of insensitive but damn it, he's the one who was born in a crib made of money. How dare he complain about his life when he has it all?
Nathan's face morphs into a sneer. "Don't talk like you know everything. You know nothing about me or my family. You're just like everyone else around here." His tone raises terribly, blue eyes boring holes in your skull "Having money is not equal to living a perfect life. It means that everyone can get away with whatthefuckever they want to without any kind of consequence or without anyone giving a fuck"
He stops abruptly, hands curled in fists, shaking, eyes unfocused, not really looking. His face resembles a lobster from how red he is.
Fear grips your heart like a vice.
Nathan Prescott is back to the guy in the bathroom. To the guy in the parking lot.
The lonely boy sitting under the stars is long gone.
Lying on the ground, muscles tense, heart rate picking up, you know that you have fucked up.
You have triggered his temper. Now there will be no more understanding or shared awkward laughs under the stars.
(Heartache.)
Then, quick as lightning Nathan is on top of you, his angered visage hovering over your head. Alarmed you try to push him off, to do anything to get away from the furious teenager, however, he grabs both your wrists in his hands, forcing them next to your head.
You want to scream but you don't, afraid that if you do you'd only anger him more.
How stupid can you get, Max?
Puffs of breath hit your face as he talks "How about now it's my turn, eh? I'm the one who gets to interrogate you now, whore. So, let me ask. Do you know what it feels like to feel truly hopeless?" Blue orbs widen, giving airs of insanity lurking behind them "Do you know what it feels like to wake up every day knowing that your life does not belong to you? That you're just a mere pawn under somebody's thumb or that you're just an object to be used? Do you have any idea what it feels like to be stripped from any sense of self worth and dignity? DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE HAVING NO CONTROL?"
He yells the last part, chest heaving, pupils dilating from the effort.
"No, you don't" The boy replies for you, tone bitter, jealous "Why would you? All of you fuckers are privileged, living in fucking candy land. All of your problems summed up in homework, taking selfies and being one of Jefferson's groupies" Nathan literally growls the name "Ignorant of the ugly fucking truth: that life is not a corny ass fairy tale. The real world is dirty, dark, cruel. Especially made for tainted people like me. And the funny thing is, you will never know. You will never have to know, little Maxine Caulfield."
An ugly smile forms, eyes shining with a sea of emotions. "Tell me, how does it feel knowing mommy and daddy will always be there for you?" His grip tightens "That they care for you, they love you and they always will protect you from reality? Hmm? How Max, how?"
His face looks tortured and the first thought that strikes you is why you didn't bring your camera.
"Guess what? Sometimes, when I'm out here and I see the fireflies… I think of you" whispers softly, as if sharing a secret "Their light shining so bright, the darkness not being able to reach them. That's how you are too, stupid hipster. You shine so fucking bright" A twisted, sad chuckle falls from his lips "And people like me, always admiring from afar. Scared to get close, to touch and taint that pure white light with this disgusting…."
His voice fails him, shakes at the end with a tremor.
A single drop falls on your right cheek.
Nathan gets up so fast, as if being near you burned him.
As if he couldn't stand to be in your presence.
He walks away from you until there are a few feet separating the two of you, his back turned to you.
Meanwhile, you sit up, rubbing your sore wrists. Rubbing the red fingerprints that now decorate your pale skin.
You think it' useless. It's so fucking useless.
Beause you saw it anyway. You saw Nathan's Prescott crying face. Blue, stormy, hazy eyes brimming with tears.
(It was so beautiful.)
You saw it.
The image is burned in your retinas. Forever.
When you feel wet trails on your cheeks, dripping on your trembling legs, you find out you're crying too.
You want to curl on the ground, cover your ears and pretend none of this happened. Erase those cruel words spoken straight out of a seemingly experienced person, and how he became acquainted with that knowledge, you don't want to know.
(Liar)
While you're recovering from the shock, Nathan sobs quietly facing the starred sky.
The sad sounds reach your ears.
(The Prescott heir is broken.)
You are angry.
You are sad.
You are confused.
You are hurt.
You are many things at the same time and that is not healthy.
You wonder if that's how Nathan feels all the time. Torn up by the palette of raging emotions inside him.
His cries are noisy in the quiet night.
Your tears are silent instead.
You two are polar opposites.
Two different forces clashing, colliding and destroying everything in their wake.
You're way too different to even try to get along.
You stand up on legs that feel too weak to support your own weight. Your stomach is churning, spasming. It makes you feel dizzy.
Watching his fragile frame you're conflicted on how to proceed now.
So you stay there, standing awkwardly, wiping the sweat and tears from your face and analyzing your life choices.
You don't know how much time has passed when Nathan's whimpers die out, when his shoulders stop shaking.
It could have been an hour or a lifetime.
You reckon you don't really know much about anything.
Again, Nathan is the one who breaks the silence.
"Stop messing around with me" he says, not turning around to face you. The breeze carries his voice to you "Stop butting in my business and stop sticking your ugly freckles where they don't fucking belong"
Even if he's muttering a threat, his voice sounds painfully broken.
"Fuck you and the horse you rode in" you end up saying, the tears in your eyes betraying the anger in your voice.
"Get the fuck away from me, SLUT! Don't provoke me"
"It's not like I wanted to be here, you disgusting asshole!"
You sound so bitter.
Regaining whatever dignity you have left, you take angry strides towards the entrance to the dorms, hiding in the darkest depths of your mind these weird newfound feelings that you're in no mood to analyze or fret over.
Whatever happened back there, it was a fucking slippage of sanity. In no normal circumstances you would have subjected yourself to the torture of dealing with such an unstable person. You did not feel bad for him and you did not want to understand him. At all.
Nathan Prescott is rude, self entitled and psychotic (interesting, broken). Nothing else.
Just as you're about to turn the doorknob, he calls you out again.
"Hey!"
For an instant you're tempted to flip him off and walk away out of spite but then again, you're a curious individual and that curiosity will get you killed someday. You're sure of it.
Turning your head a bit, blue meets blue for the last time.
"This… whatever this was, it doesn't change anything" eyes red and puffy from all the crying he was doing earlier, yet looking fierce and disappointed and ruined at the same time.
Your fingers ache for a camera.
Without acknowledging his words, you vanish from Nathan's sight, smashing the door behind you, not even caring about other people hearing. You're so over all this shit.
Throwing yourself on the bed you feel shaken and sick to your core. How foolish of you, you think, how foolish of you to even consider the idea of you and Nathan Prescott ever being able to get along. Ever being able to be friends. Ever being able to understand him.
You fall asleep immediately, exhausted from the emotional strain.
That night you dream of alternate dimensions, worlds where you can befriend whoever you want. Worlds where your choices and circumstances are different. Worlds where things like hatred are not a part of the equation. Worlds where there's no animosity and no insults. Worlds where nothing bad happened. Worlds where you can fix the broken boy.
When you wake up early in the morning, there are dried tears in your pillow.