Wednesday, 6 August 2014

Wednesday Briefs. Cyan Chapter 14

I haven't flashed for a while. This was due to a number of things, mainly going on holiday, then moving home. If anyone is thinking of going away on holiday then moving two days after you get back - don't. It was hell. But I survived, and here I am writing about Robin and Cyan again. Rather surprising (or not) developments this week.

Robin gasped. His stomach clenched, feeling bruised as if he’d been physically punched. The thought of Cyan alone in darkness – physical or metaphysical – with a blade in his hand, hurting himself, crying, feeling there was no way out— He swallowed hard.

“But he’s alright now, isn’t he? He’s past that. He has friends now, and—” Terror gripped him, a creeping horror in the pit of his stomach. He was afraid to voice the question, but he had to know. 
“He-he hasn’t— Has he?”

Cyan’s mother gave him a look of such compassion it almost made him cry.

“You mustn’t blame yourself, Robin.” She had tears in her eyes, and he almost screamed at her to just come out and say it. The only thing stopping him was the gagging terror that made speaking impossible.

“On Friday night, Cyan was very upset. He wouldn’t talk, and locked himself in his room. We have a pact that I won’t go in his room unless he invites me, but I couldn’t bear to hear him crying, and he wouldn’t open the door.” Robin’s fear turned cold as her voice became an emotionless drone, as if she was reciting something she’d learned by heart.

“He’s always very careful when he cuts himself. He hates mess and doesn’t like to get blood on anything. We had to burn everything in his room when he—“ She stopped short and shook her head, clearly unable to keep walking down that road.

“What really scared me this time, was the blood. He just let it run down his arms and drip off his fingers. He was watching it soak into the carpet.” Tears ran down her face, but Robin didn’t think she even noticed.

“Is he—?”

“He didn’t cut deep. He wasn’t trying to hurt himself this time, not really. He told the doctors at the hospital he wanted to make himself as ugly on the outside as he felt on the inside.”

Robin let his head fall into his hands and buried his fingers in his hair. Whatever she said, it was his fault. He was the one who made Cyan feel ugly.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—“

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Robin. This is Cyan. This is what he’s like. He doesn’t understand how the world works. He doesn’t understand how people work, and he certainly doesn’t understand how relationships work. You’d think he’d have learned after what happened, but he never has. You probably don’t want to hear this, but we’ve talked about his feelings for you, and I’ve explained that you’re just his friend; that you have – or had – a girlfriend, and you’re not even gay. On some level he knows that, but in situations of stress like that−“ She shrugged helplessly. 

“He can’t help himself. He’s such a loving boy.”

Robin raised his head. He was shocked to the core. Cyan had feelings for him? He’d discussed them with his mother? He opened his mouth. Then closed it again. What was he supposed to say to that? His rational mind told him to at least agree with her about being straight. Apologise maybe? But there was a little voice in the back of his head, nagging at him to be more honest – with her and himself. The truth was, he didn’t know anymore. He didn’t know what he was; what he wanted. All he knew was that he’d hurt Cyan and he’d jump through fire to make it right.


“You will still be his friend, won’t you?” she said anxiously. “Cyan’s so worried he’s spoiled everything and you won’t want to know him anymore.”

“Oh God, no. No, this hasn’t spoiled anything. How could it? I really care about him.”

Cyan’s mother smiled, a beautiful, bright smile. “I knew you were different. I knew you were a good man.”

Robin was completely embarrassed by her exuberance. “Can I see him?” he mumbled.

“Of course. Go on up. It’s the door at the top of the stairs.”

Avoiding her eyes, Robin nodded and escaped. The door was suddenly before him, and he was too scared to knock. What would he find? Would Cyan be different? Would he even want to see Robin? Well, he couldn’t just stand here all day.

“Cyan?” he called softly, as he tapped on the door. “It’s me. Robin. Can I come in?”

Dead silence met him from the other side of the door, and Robin’s heart thudded. He knocked again and called louder. “Cyan? Can I come in? Please?”

The silence stretched to breaking point, then the door swung open. Cyan seemed lost, with an air of sadness that hung like a barrier between them. He wouldn’t meet Robin’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Robin said at last.

“Sorry?” Finally, Cyan raised his head and stared at Robin, his pale green eyes wide. They were puffy and red. Surprisingly the vulnerability it represented made him even more beautiful. Robin caught his breath. “You shouldn’t be sorry. I was wrong. I did it wrong. I did everything wrong. I always do.”

So much pain. It was everywhere – in Cyan’s eyes, his trembling lip, his stance. A desperate need to stop it washed over Robin and he reached out his arms. Cyan cringed, taking a step back. “Don’t touch me.”

“Sorry.” But he couldn’t leave it at that. He knew what Cyan’s long sleeves covered. He knew there was a stain on the bedroom carpet. He knew he’d made Cyan feel ugly inside. That, more than anything, was unbearable. “Cyan, I−” He was going to explain. That was all. He was going to explain that he cared a lot for Cyan but he just wasn’t− He was definitely intending to say that he wasn’t− But the expression in Cyan’s eyes was so− And there was so much pain and sadness and –

When he threw his arms around Cyan, Cyan yelped and tried to pull away−until Robin kissed him, then he melted.

Well, who didn't know it was going to happen eventually?  Just don't think it's going to suddenly be easy sailing. Robin doesn't know what he wants. Cyan can't understand why not. Tricky situations ahead.

Right. Time to go read the rest of the smorgasbord of amazingness. 

No comments:

Post a Comment