[PRP] The Moon Framed in Lavender (Shiloh & Jamie) [FIN]

[saedusk]

The scent of the air was lavender, delicate but there. Faint lights danced between raindrops, reminiscent of fireflies, but no more alive than the wind that moved them. Only a small splattering of mist found Jamie's fur through the thick canopy of flowers that protected them and for a moment he thought he might be dreaming, but the weight of his own existence felt too heavy for that. He could tell he was in Shiloh's lap.

It was peaceful despite the fact it was the Otherworld. Calm, quiet save the rain, and lit by the moon beyond the flowers. Why they were back here, Jamie couldn't remember.

Silently, wearily, he lifted his head from the cradle of Shiloh's arm, eyes wide with reverence and reflecting the full moon that changed him. Even well beyond the range of his forced transformation he could recall the feeling; sometimes all it took was looking to the sky for it to shiver through him, its tendrils reawakening each and every nerve. The ghosts of it were never as significant, but they were very real.

With a small shiver, he closed his eyes and laid his head back down. Even blind to the moon he felt his limbs contracting, phantom twists and curls in his spine, sourceless tickles at his cheeks where his whiskers grew. In that moment, he relived the birth of a snowshoe hare.

Melancholiessss

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh's eyes were closed. They had been for some time.

The Ball had only happened a few days ago, and court was still painfully branded into his head. Everything felt confusing. Everything felt strange. He couldn't set alarms because the piercing sound spurred him into panics; he didn't know how to bring that up to Jamie, because his parents still set alarms and they did the same thing to him as well, no matter how muffled the sound way. Choosing his own outfits gave him immense anxiety, because none of them were pretty enough and no one was there to tell him which to wear. Even sitting down to eat, his food warm rather than cold, gave him nausea. His stomach never stopped twisting into knots.

When Otherworld reached out and snapped him up, he panicked.

But it was hard to remember that, the screaming, the hyperventilating. He barely remembers the rain and how cold it felt against his searing hot skin. He remembered Jamie there of course, and his tender hands, and the softness of his hair. Somewhere between the boundary he regained his composure and left his body behind in the process, mind lifting to different heights, thoughts flowing around like an endless circle. Now the world smelled faintly like flowers, and it wasn't until he finally willed his eyes open that he saw the gentle purple canopy over head. There was no one else here. The vines and flowers and leaves continued to branch out slowly, the only sound being a soft creak as they bent and twisted around him like a grove.

A drop of water snaked down through the foliage, landing on Shiloh's nose. It snapped him from his daze.

The second thing he noticed was how the softness of Jamie's hair had been replaced with the softness of his fur. His hand remained still when unprovoked, but even just the slight gesture of lifting it made his fingers tremble with an unusual weakness, thumb shaking as it brushed over the crown of the hare's head. Instantly he cuddled the bundle closer, heart still beating erratically despite the stillness in his demeanor. Underneath his skin was still a very real frenzy, only it dammed at his head and refused to leak into his mind. Something had shut it off. Something had flicked the off switch. He exhaled haggardly as he rocked forward with the Moonwalker in his arms, mumbling nothings under his breath.

Tiny little forget-me-nots bloomed along his knuckles, innocent and blue. Every brush against Jamie's frame knocked some loose, the tiny petals drifting in the slightest motion of wind.

"It's... cold..." he mumbled, lips feeling just as blue as the flowers, hands and fingers seeming stiff despite the outward fluidity of his motions. "I'm cold..."

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saedusk

 

[saedusk]

It wasn't that Jamie was totally unaware of Shiloh's discomfort, it was simply the drifting of his thoughts, swayed by the moon like the tides. What called him back were Shiloh's arms as they tightened around him, brought him closer. There was a desperation in the touch. Now he knew it was time to clear his eyes of faerie dust and forget the world that had swallowed them whole without their permission. Now was the time to focus on Shiloh who needed him.

Really, when he stopped to think, they needed each other.

As a hare he couldn't speak, but he could breathe, he could touch, he could comfort. Whether it would help or not was yet unknown, but Jamie turned in Shiloh's arms, stretched closer, nosing gently against his hand. Like the canopy above them, he smelled like flowers. Like the weather softly falling around their makeshift shelter, he smelled like rain.

Pressing up past his hand, Jamie stretched until he couldn't anymore. He found Shiloh's face, his cheek, and brushed against his skin. Beneath his fur thrummed life and warmth and he willed it to pass between them with nothing but affection. It was all he had to offer.

It'll be okay, was what Jamie tried to say with his body. Cliche, an overused promise, but he believed it, because they'd already come out of so many trials alive. If they could to that, they could survive this, too.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh shuddered another breath as he felt his sanity teeter along the edge of here and gone. Instead he startled slightly when a cold nose pressed into his face, but the jump was quickly replaced with a quiet (albeit nervous) series of laughs. They were still genuine, partially, despite his deteriorated mood. He continues to run his shaking fingers through the soft rabbit fur, eyes closing again, heartbeat hammering back into an even rhythm.

It took him quite some time, but eventually Shiloh acknowledged the waking world again. He looked down at Jamie's form, at his bizarrely blue human-like eyes. Taking his finger tip, he booped the hare on the nose, scratching his uneven nail against the bridge of his face. "You're really warm..." he mumbled quietly, the plants around them continuing to over take. It was as if they sought to protect the two of them, close them both in, keep them safe. Shiloh didn't seem to mind too much.

"It'll be okay, right?" Despite his jumbled memories, Jamie's body language felt like a prose he was extraordinarily fluent in. His gut told him things and more often than not, where Jamie was concerned, it was right on the dollar. He took both of his hands now, thumb and forefinger squishing the base of his ears, flopping them around like a helicopter. A bunicopter. "'Cause you're here..."

How did one explain the sensation of knowing someone, but not knowing them at all? As if you were a lover to some stranger, or knew everything about some wandering vagabond to the extent of blatant camaraderie? It was like he had sat down one day and read an autobiography about Jamie Delacroix, knew him inside and out, knew him better than Jamie knew himself; yet had never met the guy. It was a sobering feeling—and realistically, a lonely one. Here was his best friend, the one he had come to care about so much, but past the vaguely familiar exterior was another strange visitor, someone with the key to his house asking to be let in. After all, Shiloh had given him that proverbial key once, right?

He frowned down at the rabbit in his lap. "I'm... sort of scared." he admitted this softly, slowly, "That I wont be able to remember anything. The important stuff. Stuff like you." he gently massaged the furry ears between his fingers, "Or that I'll have to leave you behind, and then I won't be able to be there for you like you always are for me..."

Not that Shiloh was completely sure of that last statement, but it felt right to say. There were a few foggy memories in his head—recent memories—ones where he could make out the form of a boy with soft brown hair and eyes like the sea and a voice like liquid innocence. Even though it had only been a short time since the incident at Court and his subsequent meeting with Pax, he felt such a strong urge to trust Jamie that it was ridiculous. He didn't want to leave the cycle, not if it meant leaving behind Jamie. There was a sharp jab at his heart before he gathered Jamie up and burrowed his face into the soft white expanse of his fur, breathing in the deep scent of lavender, coiling in on himself and the lapin.

"I don't want to do this anymore." it was childish and he knew it. Melany raised him better than this. His father—though he was a ghost in his memory, Shiloh could recall the shadow of his arm lifted against the wall—he raised him better than this too, at least in terms of survival. He was being selfish. Jamie didn't want to do this either, and neither did anyone else who was trapped in this madness. They'd live and they'd keep living and they'd move on with their lives. Even if they failed—even if this world reset—Shiloh could at least carry his memories with him. He might be a removed part of Jamie's life at that point, but he could always find him again, always guide him again. Was that what being a Noble meant?

A tendril of wisteria dripped down from the hood of their shared canopy, followed by another, and then another, and then finally the entire ceiling was covered in a drapery of light purple. Rosemary peeked out from under his legs, pungent in their scent, relaxing in their familiarity.

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saedusk

 

[saedusk]

The tips of his fingers, the palms of his hands, Shiloh's touch seemed to remember the parts of him his mind forgot. Soft but playful, kind but rough, it was the special sort of duality Jamie had grown both used to and fond of. If eyes really were windows to the soul, it would be easy to see he was smiling behind them, their shimmering blue bright with promises. There was no way he could say nothing would go wrong again, but he could continue to believe it would be okay. The two of them would face this and it would be okay because they were here together.

Would a bunicopter lie?

As Shiloh flung his ears around, Jamie's head bobbled, his nose wiggled with furious purpose. Denying his own worries would be a lie, there was a part of him that feared as Shiloh did. Flumping his head against one hand, he gently nuzzled, a slow, easy rhythm that agreed with him. It was scary to imagine Shiloh might never properly remember.

Still, though his memories were important, it would be irresponsible to say otherwise, they weren't the be all and end all. Shiloh was still Shiloh, he showed that through action, through caring and trust, and Jamie could tell what truly mattered was right here with him. He would help nurture that. There was no question.

When Shiloh pulled him close, Jamie curled into his pillow, arching his body around to cradle his head as if he'd just laid it in his human-lap. It was okay to be childish, there was no one around to judge—Jamie never would, that much was certain—and no threat looking to twist them and tear them to pieces. He understood the sentiment, knew what it felt like to push reality away and pretend it didn't exist. For a short moment, it would be okay if they did.

Warm and pliable, he let the scent of the flowers and the soft reminder of Shiloh's breath through his fur relax him.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

The answer was no, a bunicopter wouldn't lie, at least not one with a name like Jamie Delacroix. Shiloh couldn't help but offer a tiny smile at Jamie's incessant nose wiggling, the expression broadening as he slammed his skull into his hand. When he curled into him like Shiloh was some goddamn pillow, he actually managed to laugh, the sound quiet but full.

"I can't really speak nose wiggles and bunny nuzzles y'know..." but he still felt like he got the gist of it. Jamie's responses were warm and they were accepting, evident with how he rolled all over his person. If Jamie were mad or didn't agree or found his words strange, Shiloh would know, and he trusted Jamie to tell him so. "But it is pretty damn cute..." he voice cracked with exhaustion at the end there, one of his hands rubbing uselessly at his eye. The forget me not's along his knuckles rubbed off easily to his face, instead taking temporary root in the dark bruise-colored circles that existed there.

Yeah, he could exist outside of reality for a second or two.

"I really do trust you..." he admitted, "It's weird, but I like, I can't not." he pursed his lips as he bundled Jamie even closer, nuzzling into the soft white. Everything smelled so gentle and it made him feel like things would be alright. He started to sway where he sat. "I guess I can't give up if you won't." it wasn't like he was the one who had to transform into a rabbit every month. Sure, Court had been a b***h and he would never be able to reclaim his old life, but Court didn't say he had to become an animal with the full moon, least of all a cuddly harmless one.

Okay, well Jamie wasn't harmless, and honestly a bunny was probably one of the better choices in his opinion, but the fact remained.

"We should probably try to find out way out soon..." thunder rumbled in the distance, the rain gusting harder for a second before calming again. "But..." if they did, then Jamie wouldn't be a soft cuddly comfort thing. Then again, he sort of appreciated speaking with him.

word count: 1,579

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

The sound of thunder almost ceased to exist for Jamie. He could hear Shiloh's words like thoughts in his own head, but beyond that the world was simply flowers, draped over them, blooming under them. It was relaxing and slowly but surely it became difficult to think.

You're right... Jamie said in his mind, eyes tightly closed and body refusing to go through the motions that said he'd heard. It took a moment of lazy, foggy internal arguing before an ear even twitched.

Shiloh was right, though. Their canopy from the rain felt impenetrable, peaceful and safe, but Other Ashdown was not so kind. They couldn't stay here forever, even if they were warm in each other's arms. A sigh shuddered through his small frame, the fur at the back of his neck fluffing out as his body rolled into a stretch as well as he could manage with Shiloh so present around him.

He stretched and almost without warning his body continued on its own. It was like experiencing the moonlight in reverse, his limbs extending and his body shivering with warmth slowly lost. This time, though, he had Shiloh to fend off the chill.

The next instant Jamie was human again, settled in Shiloh's lap, curled tightly against him, arms around his neck, and hand gripped gently in his hair. Jamie sighed again, an airy sound that was all he had before he found his voice.

"Y-You're right..."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh didn't flinch when Jamie started to shift in his arms. He didn't look startled, he didn't open his eyes, he merely sat there while hands slowly formed against his skin, arms around his neck, legs straddling his waist. The softness was replaced with something else; something a little less plush, not nearly as dense. His eyes opened to a sea of delicate light brown, Jamie's head tucked against his shoulder, fingers tousling in his hair.

"I am...?" He was. The moon overhead caught his attention, but it was soon tossed away. His arms found themselves lazily around Jamie's torso, pulling the Moonwalker into a loose hug. The wisteria dripped down onto the crown of his head, melting down his shoulders and brushing all over Jamie's arms. Within moments, the two of them were swallowed completely by the grove, the sound of rain overhead. No water made it through the thickness of the flora now. No light managed to get in either; they were swallowed with darkness, but it wasn't unpleasant. It was dim and hazy and Shiloh found comfort in Jamie's warmth among it all.

He was a Noble, and Jamie a Moonwalker, and if anything decided to ******** with them in the Otherworld, they'd have a whole different set of s**t coming to them.

So instead he dropped the subject, let his hand slide down to the small of Jamie's back, fingertips marveling at the curvature of his spine. Seconds ago he was a hare, and now he wasn't, and while it didn't catch him off guard it was still so strange. Then again, Shiloh was the living garden here. Was he really any different in terms of strangeness?

He exhaled and it smelled like rain, and not because it was raining around him. This smell was fresher, cleaner, colder like spearmint, like it was cold enough for snow but the water refused to freeze anyway.

"Do you like... being a Moonwaker?" Had he ever been asked? Shiloh wondered where the question rose from, despite being the one to ask it. They had that in common at least; neither of them had chosen their respective paths. Shiloh never wanted to be a Noble, and Jamie never wanted to be a Shapeshifter, and now they both had to deal with all the bullshit that life was throwing at them. "Having to change with the moon, dealing with the week long mid-form bullshit..." it seemed very inconvenient. At least being a Noble didn't have any strange rules; at least, none that he was yet aware of, aside from the ban on inflicting harm to other nobility.

"I mean, I think the ears are cute..." it was a weak attempt at humor—something to lighten the mood, show that he was feeling a little better even if it wasn't much. If there was anything he could recall about Jamie, it was his self esteem, and it was at rock bottom. Still, if the hug was anything to go by, Shiloh obviously didn't seem deterred by anything. He hadn't been the first time and he wouldn't be now.

word count: 2,095

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

The moment lingered, Jamie's eyes remained closed, and the darkness that greeted him somehow grew dimmer but no less peaceful. The world squeezed in around them and he could feel the flowers brush his arms, caress his head. There was no fear or worry, only the soft scent of lavender and wisteria and rosemary. And yet... beyond the flowers there was something else.

There were Shiloh's arms around him, there was the gentle but present touch of his hand as it slid down his spine, spelling comfort across his skin. Even through the fabric of his shirt he could feel it. With only this it was like Shiloh could brush away each and every stray thought of Other Ashdown from Jamie's mind. Except, well, he was the one to bring it back, too. Even so, it wasn't uncomfortable.

"Do I... like it?" The question rolled into the corners of his mind, lighting thoughts he hadn't humored before. "Y'know I... never really thought about it. Not that way, anyway." Was being a moonwalker an inconvenience, was it scary, was it strange? Those are the types of things Jamie considered. Did he like it? Well...

"I'm not really sure," he answered, tucking his chin a little closer, taking a short moment to breathe in the crisp but calming scent of ice and rain. "There are... things about it I like, I guess. I like how pack touch feels and I like that even though I have to be an animal, I don't have to be a scary one." Laughing faintly, he squirmed. "I think the ears are kinda cute, too."

For a short moment he went silent and then, "And really... I guess I like the idea that someday I might be strong enough to protect people." With a gentle squeeze around Shiloh's neck, Jamie sighed. It felt right to extend him the same questioning. Now was a time to learn about each other, here in comfort of their personal grove.

"Are there things you think you could like about being a noble, too?"

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Every time he breathed he smelled the ocean mingled with all the flowers. He smelled something earthy, wet from rain, soil soaked and brimming with buds and life. It wafted around his heart and brought his head back down from the clouds. It felt like tiny, fragile hands bringing him back to his senses, back to a reality where everything was okay and nothing was trying to kill him; at least, not presently.

"Protecting people, huh..." Shiloh's voice sounded like he was reminiscing, thinking back to some metaphorical "good ol' days", back when things were as simple as his ratty shoes crossing the pavement and his battered knuckles cold cocking someones jaw in. Those were times when the biggest worries he had were skinned knees and crocodile tears. He could always remember having someone to protect, but not exactly who it was. "I get that."

If Jamie took his time between answers, then Shiloh took lifetimes, because the silence seemed to stretch and his musing rumbled to somber silence, his only acknowledgement being a gentle hum. He appreciated it the way it was asked, because as it stood, there was nothing enjoyable about being a Noble. There was nothing enjoyable about having a fetch, nothing enjoyable about the notion of tithes and nothing enjoyable about the idea of responsibility. His status did not give him a family—at least, he felt nothing familial for the other nobles with the exception of Thorne—and he wasn't necessarily scary, but his magic was far from harmless. Was he strong? Melany made him feel weak and worthless and useless.

He shrugged, or well, shrugged as best as he could with Jamie laying against him. A few moments later he swayed, and a few moments past that he started to lean back, slower and slower until he was falling—only for a lush bundle of ferns and shrubs to catch his fall, propping him up at an angle, arms working quickly to gather Jamie back up against him. "I dunno." he said after a while, "The plants are nice."

Pretty, even. He spoke and they listened, he thought and they moved like an extension of his muscles. His blood was thick and it healed him and the flowers loved him for it. He tasted like rain. Those weren't bad things; but Court was bad, and Beel was bad, and hurting others was bad. Noeh had been exceptionally kind and Ezra hadn't done anything to slight him personally, but otherwise...

"I wish I could say something," he mumbled eventually, "But it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth." he pursed his lips, eyes opening to the purple covered hood of their living shelter. "I think... being a moonwalker would've been better." there was a laugh at the end there, heavy with exhaustion, bitter with remorse. A hand found its way to Jamie's hair, cradling the back of his head. The touch was intoxicating, as if his comfort was some sort of drug. His chest felt warm, despite everything.

"But I don't think I ever liked anything about myself." He mulled the thought over for a while, even long after he'd said it. "Or maybe that's not quite right..." he could scarcely remember himself or who he used to be, after all. He set his cheek against the top of Jamie's head. "I can't be that bad if there's something you see in me."

He scratched his fingertips against his scalp, and then added cautiously, "I'm... sorry about what happened," another slow pause, another lingering moment, "In court. The atrium. The paintings..." It hadn't been brought up yet. It needed to be. In his right mind or not, it didn't excuse the action. His eyes were still open as they watched the ever shifting ceiling. Whispering something under his breath—something that didn't quite sound like words, but more like raindrops, like leaves shifting—a ball of light slowly flickered to life, warm in its luminosity.

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saedusk

 

[saedusk]

"Mhm," was his response, simple, effective. They both knew what it felt like to want to protect someone. Tucked against him now was one of the very people he hoped to stand by, to fight for—to fight with, really. For as long as the silence dragged on after that, Jamie hardly noticed it, hardly minded. It was comfortable, because Shiloh was someone who meant more to him than worries about lapses in conversation. They could've stayed like this all night, said absolutely nothing else, and Jamie would've been happy.

Besides, the air was alive with the rustle of soft petals and the slow, even breathing shared between them. Jamie's own heart beat a steady, quiet rhythm in his chest, a song that sounded like a lot more than silence.

It was peaceful and everything Jamie expected until Shiloh leaned back, rousing him from the small stupor he'd fallen into. For a moment he held back, arms loosening from his neck, eyes searching his face for an answer, but the plants responded for him. They caught him, cradled him, and Jamie's expression blossomed into the gentlest of smiles. By the time Shiloh reached out for him, he was already halfway there.

"The plants are nice," he agreed, even if it was the strangest thing to see them bloom from his best friend's skin like it was soil. He set his head against Shiloh's chest and let his arms hang from his shoulders. "They smell so nice, especially like this." Encased by their protective shell, the scent grew stronger, more soothing, its veil a comfort in the same way Shiloh's touch was to the both of them. "But... I have to admit, being a noble seems... kinda scary." Especially on the heels of what he'd been forced to go through, all the unwanted trials, being forced into this role sounded like the final nail in the coffin, the one last middle finger for his feelings. Jamie sighed.

He sighed and then he grew quiet. The apology hung between them, but before he grasped it, he said, "Y'know... you're definitely not so bad." A short pause. "I... I forgive you." It wasn't an it's okay, it wasn't an attempt to dismiss it with a don't worry about it. Jamie's acceptance of Shiloh's apology was as genuine as the sorry had been to begin with. He squeezed his shoulders. "Thank you..."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Honestly, Shiloh wouldn't have accepted it any other way, because it wasn't okay, it wasn't something he should stop worrying about. Those responses would undermine Jamie's feelings and that wasn't an avenue that Shiloh was interested in walking down. If they were best friends, then they would have to be equals. Shiloh was relieved that statement held truth. Maybe there was more to them than his broken memories after all.

"You think?" he laughed, the sound quiet and a little dreary. If Jamie didn't think he was that bad, then maybe he had something going for himself. Either that or Jamie had that much goddamn faith in him, which could be a double edged sword in of itself. "And yeah it's—it's... scary. I didn't as for this s**t." Jamie knew this though. Jamie didn't ask for his new position as a moonwalker either.

Instead he let himself lay there, arms still snug around Jamie, vines creeping over the both of them. If he told the plants to stop, they would, but right now they moved as an extension of himself. They willed what he willed. They wanted to be closer.

"But I guess it's sort of the opposite too? Like," and he laughed, but this time it sounded sarcastic and bitter, "There ain't much to be scared of. Like, there's her, but everythin' in comparison?" Easy mode. "Pain doesn't so much anymore, 'n I can handle myself anyway... and if I can't, it's like, I dunno... not a big deal." because what was the worst that could happen? Death? ********, he wished for it every day underneath Melany's thumb.

"Actually, that's a lie." he sucked in a breath, "You're kinda scary too."

word count: 3, 039

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

If the vines bothered Jamie, he didn't outwardly show it. In fact, if anything he looked calm, content. He barely moved as they arched over his form, wrapping him in a secondary sort of hug. In short order they'd both learned the plants responded to Shiloh as if they could hear him speak before he opened his mouth. They were safe, just like Shiloh was safe. Safe and warm and comforting. He might not have known it, but Jamie found more peace in his presence than he'd felt with most anyone he'd ever met.

"There's a lot we don't know, too." Would Shiloh develop some additional powers the same way he'd grown into his flowers or the way he smelled sweet like fresh rain? Or was this it? Was there potential for Jamie to experience the same sort of growth or had he reached the pinnacle of his abilities as a moonwalker? When he came to Other Ashdown, he was afraid he'd always have questions.

"Still I... wish there had been another way. I wish you-" he stopped, leaving it at that. They couldn't change the past no matter how much it hurt.

Sucking in a breath, vivid and sharp and on the edge of worry, he finally moved to readjust against Shiloh, but not enough to disturb the vines. Hearing you're kinda scary too was a bit off-putting, but before he let fear rule his thoughts, he chose to give him the benefit of the doubt. Jamie knew there was more to the story than met the eye.

"I'm scary...?" he asked.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Jamie didn't have to finish his thought. Shiloh appreciated the sentiment, even though it hurt, even if remembering pained him. He knew Jamie meant well. He didn't hold it against him.

"Scary, yeah." he said it slowly like a connoisseur tasting wine, letting the syllables roll over his tongue. "Not like... traditionally I guess. It's like—I trust you." despite everything, he added silently to himself, even though they had already been over that. "And... people you trust can hurt you the easiest, I guess." he paused, pursing his lips, wondering how Jamie would take that.

"And like, I don't really remember you, not completely. It's... confusing. I remember... feelings and stuff, like how I thought of you, but not really why." it was difficult to explain, and Shiloh sighed at the attempt. At least he was drifting further and further from his previous state of anxiety. Now this just felt like a good, necessary heart to heart. "Even then it's kinda blurry... like this right now. I want to do this and it feels right to do this but I—I don't even remember how we first met, or when we first hung out, or—"

He stopped himself early because the point had made itself clear enough. Even then, a lot of his memories and recollections seemed false, because this felt like a conversation that would have sent Jamie to despair, to panic, to let himself get eaten alive by anxiety over the thought that he might be doing something wrong, and yet... he was being rational. He was calm. He was concerned, sure, but concerned in that way that any friend would be. That was different. He didn't want to say that the Jamie that he remembered had been weaker, because Jamie had never been weak in his mind, but the way he was now after the ball... he carried himself differently, spoke differently.

He didn't stutter, not like Shiloh remembered.

And that wasn't a bad thing, but it was bittersweet in his own right. He hadn't been there to watch his friend grow, his friend who he knew both everything and nothing about. Still, it had been like he thought before; they couldn't change the past, no matter how much either of them wanted to. All they could do at this point was try to move forward, and damn if he didn't want to do that together rather than alone.

In the same breath, how different was Shiloh? How different was he in response to the self he once was? That was a little more tricky, and a little more hard to tell.

"Am I different now?" he asked before he could catch himself or mull over the question. "From the Shiloh you knew?" are we even the same? his anxiety wanted to say, but he swallowed it back. If Jamie could linger with him like this and find it in himself to forgive him, then he couldn't be that far off. There still had to be something in there vaguely similar for Jamie to stay fond over, right?

word count: 3,551

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

People you trust can hurt you the easiest. It wasn't something Shiloh had to tell Jamie twice for him to understand. When the bullies mocked him, when they spat at him, when they hurt him, it made him cry but it was something he'd grown to expect. The pain didn't reach quite as deep as it did when Beel had put on Shiloh's face and toyed with his emotions, jabbed him with guilt, made him question whether or not he was the one seeing things through the wrong kind of lens.

So no, it wasn't hard to understand. In fact, it was a very normal sort of fear, Jamie decided. It was for people like them, at least, people who struggled with self-loathing and doubt.

Even so, Jamie let him speak uninterrupted. It was definitely something he'd learned in the months since they'd met. It was impossible to stop the sudden jolts of fear, the sharp smack of worry as his mind immediately labeled something he did wrong, yes, that was still true. On the other hand, it was also true that he'd learned to cope with those feelings, he'd learned to appraise them at face value and wait for an explanation before leaping straight off the proverbial bridge.

At least, he'd made that progress with people he trusted. Whether Shiloh remembered him fully or not, the trust he gave in return by deep-rooted feelings alone meant so very much to Jamie. That was how he'd preface his answer when it was finally his turn to speak.

"I... still trust you, too, y'know... even if things have changed." The softest nuzzle against Shiloh's chest was confirmation. "And things... I think they have. Changed, I mean, but that's... not necessarily a bad thing. You're different, but I think I'm a little different now, too." Honestly, Jamie wasn't as cautious with his answer as he might've been only months ago. He certainly wasn't looking to upset Shiloh, but it felt wrong to screen himself. What he had to say he said from the heart.

"There are things about you that are the same as what I remember, too... It's not just... all different. Even so..." a short pause, "whether you're the same or different you're still Shiloh. And I... I want to keep going with you. Learn about you again. Grow together..."

There was obvious emotion in his voice as he finished with, "You're still my very best friend, Shiloh."

Melancholies