"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
DealsFor.me - The best sales, coupons, and discounts for you
Viewing Single Post From: Come & See
ifnotwinter
Member Avatar
half Iago, half Fu Manchu, all bastard
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
As Mike spoke, Erik couldn't help but choke on a laugh. It was all just so...normal. Two guys, standing on an island, chatting to each other. It didn't seem real - it felt like simply a bizarre, realistic nightmare. Another bout of laughter bubbled up in his chest, but this time there was a slightly hysterical edge to it and he hastily swallowed the giggles.

He cleared his throat, jamming his hands in his pockets and reflexively hunching his shoulders to try and minimize his height. "Uh, I'm Erik. Erik Laurin, I'm on the track team?" He stifled another nervous chuckle. Hi, I'm Erik Laurin, and I've been a Survival of the Fittest contestant for five hours now... "I. Um." Twisting his bracelet a little harder, he took a breath, trying to figure out where to go from here. There didn't seem to be many options. "I'm not going to kill you?"

He cocked an eyebrow. He was going for humorous, going for cool, calm, in control. He figured he wasn't doing too bad of a job, but his eyes, at least, were showing it. Erik was goddamn lost. This was so far out of anything he'd ever experienced, so beyond his grasp. In some distant part of himself, he knew he'd already begun to shut down. It was funny - it had always been that way. When things weren't so bad - when Pierre had gotten sick as a baby and spiked a temperature of almost 104, when Kimberly had been dumped for the first time and had become utterly hysterical, when the twins had run off at a park and gotten lost - he would be panicking. Hyperventilating, crying, frantic with worry, he would be unable to deal with anything, even the problem at hand. But when it was serious...

His mother, in the hospital, his father with him and the family looking to him, already tall with the first jumpstart of puberty, the oldest, the one who was supposed to know what to do. And he had. He'd shut everything else off, closed down the screaming, crying part of him and he had done what he had to do.

And now.

Now he had to do the same thing. No time for crying. No time even for ignoring the circumstances, no time to curl up and wait to die. He didn't know if he could deal with it. Christ, he knew he was just barely dealing with it, but one step at a time, right? Work with things the way he always had before. Protect. Protect everyone he could, from everything he could. That was the only way to deal with things - he could take it. He could help. He could protect.

He shook himself abruptly out of thought, taking a step towards Mike and extending a hand. "Listen, man, you - you wanna stick together? Some people might - well - you know. Some people might play, and I just." He shrugged, bring a hand back to scrape uneasily at the back of his neck. "Maybe there's strength in numbers."

Maybe. It was a faint and futile hope, but.

Maybe.
Posted Image

matt mckinnon


inside leg to outside hand
Posted Image

lydia hausen


move past move on move up
Posted Image

lexie diaz


light it up burn it down


(so you've got to keep in mind, when you try to change the world for the better not everybody's gonna be on your side)
Offline Profile Quote Post
Come & See · The Beach: North