A/N:
Italics= Lyrics
Bold= Connor's Conscience
Connor's POV
I listen to the leaves crunching from the impact of my feet. That's all I've been doing today, listening. What's the point of saying anything when no one is there to listen?
I trudge back to Jude and I's tent. The only reason we are sharing one in the first place being that the chaos of scrambling to find a partner left both Jude and me lost in the dust until nothing was there except Jude, me, and the ground below us.
I plop down on my sleeping bag, looking around the tent. There were many things in the tent, only one thing stole my attention. Jude. He sat there, fidgeting with the zipper of his sleeping bag. I almost felt panicked, realizing the situation.
We were alone.
Alone. A scary but simple term to most, a complex mess to me. Alone is opportunity to be free. But it's also the chance of being blanketed in a wordless fog. Forever silent, while the secret eats away at your brain.
You've been alone with him before. What makes this time any different?
The question seems silly. The answer is obvious but I would never say it out loud. I don't want to say how much I love that way he smiles. Or how I love the way he gets when he is nervous. Because that was before I fell, before I-
You know what I mean
Although I try my best, I still let down the team
What am I saying?!
But it's true
What?!
You like him
But I've tried not to! Imagine what my dad would say! I've truly tried! So...hard. But I can't help it and I'm letting him down.
Don't worry about that now. It's not important right now.
I can't help it! He scares me! This scares me!
While I have been having this debate in my mind, I somehow managed to crawl into my sleeping bag. Looking over, I noticed Jude had done the same, and was now facing away from me.
I turned my body so I wasn't facing him either. My father's voice resonating in my ears, telling me not to see Jude. To be the best baseball player ever. Something that had once been a hobby that became an endless game of striving for a perfection that doesn't exist. Like waving a feather in front of a cat, making it think it was going to grab it, but at the last second, the feather is pulled away. I silently cried into my pillow. I felt like I was going to be sick.
I hear a small voice, like a little bird's chirp, hesitant. "Connor?" Jude asks, with hesitance. I look up at him, showing him that I'm giving him my attention.
He looks at me and his expression changes. Confusion muddling with something incomprehensible until I see it. Worry. Oh, how I thought I would never see that in him (towards me at least) ever again!
His voice changed, now sounding like a bird with a broken wing. "Why are you crying?"
You're everything I want,
Why should I resist when you are there for me?
In one second, it seemed as if he put his anger on hold. That, even though we weren't necessarily on good terms, the minute (the second, the millisecond!) he saw me crying, he put away all of his anger and was ready to be there for me.
And shouldn't I see?! Something like this I can't give up! He is my everything! Shouldn't I do the same?! Shouldn't I be the one comforting him instead of being the reason why he needs comfort?!
Shouldn't I? Why aren't I?
Still I refrain
From talking at you, talking on
I was now facing him; he was now facing me. I sat silence. I wanted to say something. But I knew as soon as I let one word roll off of my tongue, it be followed by a ramble of secrets I must keep.
"Connor, please talk to me." He said quietly, pleadingly. His fragile eyes turning to glass. With one word, everything would change. But with no movement, the glass would shatter at my feet. "You know you can talk to me." The spider cracks creeping up the glass, foreshadowing the worst. He sits up, now on his knees.
Somehow, I keep quiet. Fighting the urge to blurt out a mix of apologies and explanation. He doesn't stop though. This doesn't surprise me.
You know me well
I don't explain
The glass breaks and I curse myself for it all. "Please don't shut me out! I know something's wrong. I know it. I know you. Please." He isn't yelling but their is despair in his voice. Begging me. I watch as the crystal, transparent drops fall onto the sleeping bag.
In this moment, I don't see my dad. I don't see him yelling at me. I don't see my fear. All I see is the tears streaming slightly down Jude's face. For once I see none of it. Instead I feel the inescapable sadness of watching Jude cry (And why? Because of me!).
My dad is still out of my mind when I faced myself for once, not even letting my brain try to come up with some false excuse:
I love him.
But what the hell
That's all that I'm thinking as I crash my lips onto his. A startled Jude at first is tense but then relaxes into the kiss, a smile creeping up his face. Right now, even thinking about dating the girl I talked to earlier that day (the girl I tried to convince myself I had a crush on), seems insane. I like Jude. Only Jude.
Why do you think I come 'round here on my free will?
Wasting all my precious time
I love this, I love him. Everything about him, his breath, his scent, his smile is intoxicating. I have had this in me for to long. I, for once aren't pushing this away. A bird released from its cage.
Oh, the truth spills out
And oooooo oh I've
I've told you now
He pulls away, his grin from ear to ear. I smile too. But then comes the chatter, the noise repeating in my head. My dad's presence never seems to be far behind me. His voice reclaims the space it has always had for rent up in my brain. I panic. What if he ever found out about this?! What would he do?!
Without saying a word, I climb back into my sleeping bag. He turns his head sideways in confusion. That alone is wounding me. I toss and turn the rest of the night, sleep evading me. How was I going to tell him that this could never happen again?!
