May 9, 1917

For better or for worse, Dallas was the kind of state that you easily find yourself lost in. There were days where Theodore found himself ploughing through the maze of cornfields in search of their wayward chimaera pup, or trailing around the streets of its cities in search of Lila who always seemed to be wandering somewhere for hours at a time. It was like the place had just swallowed them up and refused to give them back until it was ready to regurgitate them back up again.

But it also worked in Theodore's favour too; especially when he wanted to be alone. There was always a nook or cranny that he could tuck himself away in, there was were little hole-in-the-wall shops that beheld curios and great sweeping fields of crops & great looming woods that he could lose himself in for hours at a time. There were places on the beaten track and off of it, if you knew where to look for a place of relief or just some quiet.

Sometimes it was Lila who disappeared at night, taking off alone early in the morning or she'd vanish after dinner, never to be seen until morning. When she did return, she would shrug off any questions about her whereabouts and go on like nothing was wrong. Other times it would be Theodore's turn to disappear.

He would flitter down the road, into town or further afield where his screams & cries—where his wanton song—would embed the field of corn with great circles of Loric that bared his pain to the world; just like his vera had done to the woods of Jack Pine Road, once upon a time. They were becoming quite infamous, they were, "…the Crop Circles of Dallas…" people called them. If only they knew.

On those nights where Lila was away, Theodore usually found himself curled up in their settee with Mr Pennycrumb in his lap and a worn book in his hand. Or, perhaps the Garde boy might've be found out in some nondescript field, just watching the too-full moon and the fireflies that danced about. Either way, he'd find himself listening to the sounds of the country; sounds that were so unlike the city that never slept.

Where there had been jeering drunks in the street, there was now singing cicadas & yowling coyotes. Where sirens of sighted LANES kept people up all night, the hoots of owls sang a chorus with the distant whistle of the trains. As strange as it was, Theodore soon found that he didn't particularly mind those nights all alone, when the rest of the occupants in The Stellar Suites were tucked away in their beds and Lila was out tripping the light fantastic. And sometimes, when even that was too much, he'd just sleep out on the porch in the old lawn chairs and then he'd wake in the morning with a crick in his neck & legs cramped from sitting funny.

On that particular night—when the spring rains had decided to beat gently against the tin roof—Theodore had drifted downstairs after the sky had begun to darken and the fireflies had only just started to dance. Lila had disappeared off to who-knows-where, to do who-knows-what, with who-knows-who and the rest of the house was already starting to wind down & settle in for the night. Which had left Theodore to his own devices; too restless to nestle into the settee with a book and too wired to sleep in a room that seemed far too quiet without Lila's snores echoing through the walls.

So, he'd gone on one of his walks; just let his feet guide him to a place without any real destination in mind. It wasn't unusual that Theodore didn't know where he was or what was going on, at least, not since coming back here, so he saw no problem in slipping through one of the holes in the dilapidated fence and exploring the old barnyard. Eventually, he settled into the hayloft of the old barn, hair slicked back from the rain as his legs dangled over the side and kicked idly in thought.

By this point, the backyard of the farm had grown dark, with only the too-full moon and the glistening stars to light the sky. Theodore's heart always skipped a beat when he looked up and saw the moon sitting there, whole and obtrusive. It was like a constant reminder of what he had done—what he would do—and what he had lost. It was why he'd taken a liking to the new moon; when those sliver of silvers would disappear and free him from the shame & guilt that dug as deep as the Lien du Lorne in his veins.

KRSCH!

His head jerked over towards the sudden noise, pulling out of his thoughts with a snap. Theodore felt his heart jump & trip in his chest when his tinted gaze caught the sight of something moving down there; just a blue smudge against the dark background. He didn't dare move for fear of being caught; if he stayed perfectly still then maybe whatever was down there would disappear without even glancing upwards. Afterall, people didn't often look up when they were searching for something. He should be so lucky.

"…Hey, Teddy" Franklin greeted from the darkness, his country drawl sounding more pronounced in the dark.

"Lore, Franky!" Theodore hissed, hand flying up to his racing heart as a surge of relief washed over him. He felt he'd just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, only to realise that the culprit was his partner-in-crime.

The farm boy easily clambered up the ladder, even in the dark, trusting the old rungs to hold him. "Want some company?" He offered.

Sucking in a hesitant breath, Theodore helped to haul Franklin over the edge to sit beside him. "What are you doing all the way out here?" The Garde boy asked, suddenly feeling all of his sixteen years next to the burly boy; his blush hidden in the dark.

"I haven't seen you in a few days" Franklin replied, his hand still intertwined in Theodore's as he settled in next to him and the hay bales. "Then I get these little blue fireflies coming to see me"

"O-oh" Theodore flushed darker at that; he hadn't realised that the idle play with his lumen had drifted off to find the boy. Didn't even know that it could move like it had a mind of its own. But maybe that was just wishful thinking.

"So, I figured I'd follow the lil' flies" He ended. "See where they ended up. Good thing too, 'cause now I found you"

"Yeah, you found me" Theodore nodded, his gaze stuck on their intertwined hands. He tried to pretend that this was normal; like his heart wasn't flip-flopping about like a fish pulled from the water. "Granny Olga's been…working nights a lot, these days—" He said by way of explanation. It had only been a month since America had joined the war effort, but people were already starting to feel the effects of it.

Turning their hands over, the Garde boy let his soft digits count out the valleys & mounts in the farm boy's palms. Franklin's callouses were his trophies won from all of that hard, back breaking work; the kind that he was good at and the kind that had sculpted his family for generations. Franklin's grandfather had been a farmer too, but his ranch had been out in California. At least, until the ranch had foreclosed thanks to an outbreak of disease that had swept through the farms there. They'd been forced to slaughter over 100,000 of their animals because of it. The Cooper farm in Dallas was much smaller than the Californian ranch, but at least there was little-to-no disease out this way.

"—And she won't let me drive the truck into town after we'd blown out the tires, last time" Theodore pouted, petulantly. "We've kind of been stranded ever since"

"But you're here, now?" Franklin prodded.

"Felt like taking a walk" Theodore shrugged.

"Hm" Franklin hummed, "Where's Lila? Hardly see you two apart these days"

"Who knows?" Theodore shrugged again, "She's been so squirrelly lately, I wouldn't be so surprised if she's got a beau hidden away, somewhere"

"Oh yeah? Any idea who?"

"Who knows? Maybe with Stadler?" Theodore offered.

"No way, she's out with Stadler!" Franklin shook his head in disbelief. "She can't stand him!"

"Oh, well then, I don't know" Theodore shrugged as he shifted to sit sideway, facing him and finally looked up from their intertwined hands.

Looking up at him through his eyelashes, Theodore found Franklin haloed by the moonlight peeking through the rickety ceiling and the motes of lumen that danced in the air. He looked like a faery, painted in blue; he looked perfect. It took Theodore's breath away and he gave it away, gladly. Franklin smiled softly at his friend as something like adoration swam in his eyes. Gently—ever so sweetly—a hand tucked a stray strand of curly hair behind Theodore's ear, before caressing his face and skirting down towards his parted lips. They were so close; just an inch between them.

Kiss me. Theodore prayed desperately, unable to say the lustful words aloud as he drank in the farm boy's breath. Instead, Franklin pulled away, taking the warmth of his thumb away from him and reached back to pull a weathered flash from his back pocket. "Want some?" He offered.

"What—ahem—what is it?" Theodore asked, clearing his throat when it became clogged in his throat.

"Moonshine" Franklin replied, offering the flask again after taking a swig.

"Mooney's?" Theodore asked as he warily eyed the flask. The old sea dog had been named as such thanks to his proclivity for the drink and his mastership in making it. Plus, he had no qualms about "…tempting…" the younger generations with the stuff, said it put hair on your chest and was guaranteed to get you proficiently buzzed. He wasn't wrong.

Franklin nodded, "Course, what else?"

"Sure" Theodore nodded as he accepted the flask and unscrewed the lid to take a mouthful.

Mooney's moonshine tasted just as awful as it always was, but the buzz was near instantaneous. The liquid courage burnt something horrific on the way down, lighting up its path down his oesophagus as it trickled down. Until it finally hit his stomach, boiling amongst the gases that lay waiting. Gurgling, always gurgling; hungry for more and ready to rebel at a moment's notice. Coughing a little at the taste, Theodore handed it back to Theodore who took it with a bemused smile and swallowed another mouthful. Unlike the Garde boy, it went down easily for the farm boy and he set the flask down on the floor beside them.

"Sooooooo…" Franklin drawled, "What have you been up to? How're your fingers?"

Theodore flushed in embarrassment at the reminder, once again glad for the darkness to hide his reaction. Henrietta—one of their more temperamental chickens who seemingly had it out for the Garde boy—had tried to take his finger off, recently. "It's—it's fine" He mumbled, "I've still got it"

"I know" Franklin grinned teasingly, his teeth almost glowing in the dark. "But the way Lila tells it, it was an epic tale of heroics: Teddy v Henrietta! Battle for the Nuggets! The Final Showdown!"

"It's not that funny…" Theodore grumbled, unable to fight the upturn of his lips despite himself.

"It's a little funny" Franklin teased. "And now you've been crowned the Champion of Chicken Wrestling! King of the Coop!"

"You're ridiculous!" Theodore giggled as he leant over to playfully swat at Franklin, who held up in hands in feeble protection. Not that it really did anything, mind you, Franklin could've just as easily swatted away the invading hands without much thought.

Things were easy when they were like this; when it was just the two of them messing about. Theodore could've almost forgotten about how his heart beat traitorously in his chest, begging to inhale the one in front of him. How his pants suddenly seemed too tight and how his gaze lingered on places that friends should not linger. He told himself it was fine, in the dark, no one could tell in the dark. Afterall, what was one more lie amongst all of the rest?