A Silent Hall
Author: Kaia Mariacle
Disclaimer: They're not mine. But maybe if I get a hundred birthday cakes, and blow out all the candles at once......maybe.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A conversation and a revelation.
Author's notes: One of my favorite muses has decided he doesn't want to inspire me right now, but another has jumped to my attention, and demanded he get his due. So I said, "What the Hell." And allowed him some time in the spotlight. I can't help but lobe the little devil.
Dedication: To you (and you know who you are) because I couldn't have done it without your prodding.
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"What am I supposed to do?" An angry voice calls out. "Pretend I don't love you anymore?"
"Yes, yes -pretend." Comes the answer. "When you look at me, pretend that you don't love me anymore."
"I.....I....can't do that!" The angry voice is now desperate. "I can't, when I look at you....all I feel is love....all I want...is your lo-"
"CUT!"
I roll my eyes at the loud shout. Edna was really getting into this 'Director' thing. I guess after the whole, 'The King and I' experience, the Everwoodians decided to nominate her as the official theater expert.
Although why the town is putting on a play written by a high school freshman is beyond my comprehension.
But why they'd cast Amy and Colin as the leads is not.
The entire play is about a boy, who's been in a coma, and his ladylove, who's pined for him throughout the whole traumatic experience. And of course the requisite supporting actors -the best friend/brother, the parents, the miracle worker who saves the boy's life.
So -Amy and Colin, perfect for the lead roles.
Though how they expect Colin to remember his lines, when he can't even remember his own name half the time, stumps me greatly.
"This really sucks."
I stare at the boy sitting next to me, eyebrows raised. "You talking to me?"
He rolls his eyes, and sighs. "Well, you seemed to be the only one who's not wrapped up in the storyline." His eyes sparkle, laughing. "Anyway, I've seen the original, and I was never a fan of sequels."
Wow, that was actually a semi-witty comment.
"Me neither." I reply. "I can't believe they even made 'The Matrix: Reloaded.'"
"I know, the Matrix was definitely enough -two and a half hours of Keanu, ugh, although the special effects were wicked."
"Actually, Matrix: Reloaded isn't a sequel, it's the second of three movies."
"Really?"
"Yeah, they made The Matrix with the intent of creating a trilogy. All the actors signed on for three movies.
"Huh." He grunts, musing over it for a moment, then he shakes his head. "But, anyway, back to the sequel thing -how do you feel about X-Men II? Cause that's actually one I want to see."
I shake my head, snickering. "Well, the first one completely distilled the purity of the comics, but Wolverine is my favorite X-man, so I think I might like to see the sequel."
He sighs, and looks away, mumbling under his breath.
I only catch the last word.
"Tonight?" I say, my forehead wrinkling in confusion. "Oh yeah, X-Men II is being released tonight, right?"
He mumbles again, this time I catch most of it.
"You were wondering if I wanted to see the movie tonight?" My voice is, once again, incredulous. "Me. And you. Together?"
He nods, looking away.
"You do know who I am, right?" I question. "And who you are? Who we are, to each other?"
"Of course I do!" He mutters angrily. "We're mortal enemies. Your world is not right unless we hate each other." He says, using his fingers as quotation marks. "But don't you get tired of it?"
"Of hating you?" I ask him.
"Yeah, 'cause I don't have anyone to really hang out with anymore." He gestures to the stage. "Colin and Amy are always together, and the basketball team gets a little too cro-Magnon for me every now and then."
My eyes go wide, and my jaw drops. "Did you just call YOUR team cro-Magnon? You? The king of all that is cro and Magnon?"
"You know what?" he stands up, grabbing his coat. "I don't need this."
Note my surprise at the look of anger and hurt on his face, as he stalks out of the auditorium. I ignore the looks from the 'actors' onstage, as I grab my coat, and run after him.
Don't ask me why I'm doing this, because I really do hate the guy.
Really.
I just care about people's feelings. I'm a caring guy.
Really I am.
"Bright!" I yell loudly, my voice echoing through the hall. "Wait!"
He stops abruptly, and I skid to a halt beside him.
"What is your problem?" I shout, angry all of a sudden. "All of a sudden, after weeks of torturing me, then weeks of not even acknowledging my existence, you decide that you want to be friends or something?" I shove him, pretty hard.
I don't know why.
I also don't know why he's just standing there, staring at me.
"Get it through your thick skull, I don't CARE what you think!" I'm screaming now, and I'm surprised there isn't a crowd around to witness this. "You do not rule all, Bright, you're not even a blip on my radar half the time."
"What about the other half?" Are his quiet words, soft and small in the wake of my tantrum.
"What?"
"What about the other half of your time?" He questions me as I stand here, baffled.
"Am I on your radar then?" He asks. "Do you even see me when I'm here, standing right in front of you?" He stalks close, eyes alight with...something. "Because you're always here, in front of me." He grabs my arms, pulling me towards him. "You're always right in my radar, taunting me, smirking at me." his voice is getting quieter, and he reaches up to trace my cheek. "Sometimes I imagine you smiling at me, the way you smile at her."
"And sometimes." His breath brushes my ear, and I can't move. "Sometimes....you whisper in my ear....that you need me."
He presses a kiss against my ear.
"You whisper that you want me." He murmurs, making his way across my jaw.
"And sometimes.......you whisper that you love me."
He's staring into my eyes now, his lips a breath away from mine.
"I see you all the time, Ephram, and I don't know how to push you away."
Then, our lips meet, and he wraps trembling arms around my waist, caressing my back shakily as his teeth gently nip at my lips. Our tongues touch tentatively, and soon my hands are brushing through the silky strands at the bottom of his neck.
It seems like days before he pulls away and rests his forehead against mine.
"Help me forget you." He whispers into my mouth. "Help me forget all about you."
His voice is low and pleading, and his eyes close, glistening tears leaking from the corners as when he hears my answer.
"I can't."
Then I pull his mouth back to mine.
~Finis~
