CoH (1)

SOMEONE wanted this.  Blame her.  d:  Also, this is originally written with no chapters or breaks, etc.  So I'm just cutting it off during the timeskip.

The Colour of Hope

Part One

Avian.  Gods, isn’t that a beautiful name?  Such a perfect match for a beautiful person… Avian.  He was… wow.  He is wonderful.  He has beautiful, expressive hazel eyes that resemble the starry night sky with their sparkling depths; they took and take my breath away.  I’ve never been one to be attracted to soft, effeminate men before, but Avian is different.  He is beautiful and gentle and charmingly hesitant.  I loved everything about him from the start—well, everything I know, that is, which admittedly isn’t much.  I know his name, his face, and that he goes to my school but lives off-campus.  Other than that, he is a mystery.

Perhaps I should start from the beginning.  Last week, my best friend and roommate Kael invited me to a party.  Normally I don’t go to parties, and I’d put up quite the argument—I had a portrait due in the coming week that I’d been putting off—but since it was Kael who asked me, I went anyway.  I was pouring back beer by the cup when I saw him.  On the other side of the room, beyond the bumping and grinding of my classmates, he stood, the only other person who looked reasonably wary over the whole ordeal.  His arms were wrapped around himself, and his eyes were on the floor.  I quickly set my generic plastic red cup on the table next to me and worked my way over to him, with all the intentions of fulfilling my overwhelming desire to run my hands through his midnight hair. 

I was suddenly overtaken by the urge to make him move—to make him want to move—to dance.  I wondered if he liked to dance even.  I shook my head and told myself to focus on what I was trying to do—approaching him, that is.  What could I say without sounding crazy or creepy or simply retarded?

“Hi,” a shy voice spoke softly.  I turned my head.  The boy I’d come to speak to had taken the initiative, which rather surprised me.  “I’m Avian.”

I tried to pull off a charming smile.  It’s hard to say whether or not I succeeded.  “I’m Glenn. Hi.”

“Hi.”

“So, uh… do you wanna dance?”

“I’m not really much of a dancer…”

I held out my hand, ignoring his protest.  “C’mon, it’ll be fun.  Promise.”

He hesitantly placed his hand in mine and took a step away from safety.  “Alright,” he said quietly.  I grinned as I led him toward the pulsing, convulsing mass of college students.  His hand gripped mine even more tightly the farther I led him into Gomorrah.

“You okay?” I asked him.  Sure, I may have wanted him to dance, but his knuckles were turning white and my hand was being clenched beneath them.  Clearly there was some reluctance on his part.

“Yeah.”  He said yes, but his body screamed no.  Nevertheless, I turned him toward me and pulled him close.  As we began to dance to the beat of the song, it didn’t take me long to notice that he moved more stiffly than any of my former dance partners.  Not that I’d had many, but the point remains the same.

“Relax, Avian,” I half-shouted to be heard over the music.  “You’re thinking too hard.”  His body was pushing against mine, not flowing and cooperating.  “Just breathe.”

He tilted his head back as if he were frustrated, but I felt him breathe deeply.  The sigh that left his body took with it the majority of his tension as well as his adamant refusal not to let go of his inhibitions, apparently.  The change in his motion was palpable.  He still moved clumsily, but there was a much stronger cooperation on his part.

“So,” I said into his ear so he could hear me, “I haven’t seen you around before.  Do you go here?”  Avian nodded, eyes closed.  I didn’t like his eyes closed; I loved seeing the way the light reflected and refracted in them, the deepest eyes I’d ever seen before.  “What’s your major?”

His eyes opened, slowly and carefully as if he’d planned every exact millimetre to perfection.  “Biology,” he replied quietly.

I quirked an interested eyebrow.  “What is someone like you doing in something like Biology?” I asked.  I’d always thought that as an Art major, I wouldn’t be missing out much on beautiful people.  Apparently I’d been dreadfully wrong.  Who knew the sciences were harbouring a specimen like this?

“What’s yours?” Avian asked, pointedly ignoring my question.  I let it be; I could be patient for him if he needed it.

“Art,” I said.  “More specifically, 2D.  But my favourite is painting.”

“Oh.”  He didn’t say anything else, and I decided not to press anymore.  Instead, I focused on dancing.

I gripped his hips and held him close to me as we shifted and swayed together.  Before long, his hands were on me, too, tracing the seams at the sides of my shirt.  He bent his head forward so that I

could feel his hot breath against my collarbone.

I lost control.  I grabbed his head, taking only a split second to marvel at how his hair slid through my fingers, and kissed him heatedly.  I wanted more of him; I was pressed closer than I thought possible, and I only wanted closer.  Avian’s exploring hands quickly began pushing at my chest until I at last pulled away.

“Stop—don’t come any closer,” he said when I tried to take him to me again.

“Avian, I—”

He held up a hand.  “Just… just stop…”  He pushed past me and for a moment I could do little but stare as he strode away, far away.  How could I let him go, though?  I had to follow, and so I did.

“Avian, wait—” I groaned and tried to push past people so that I could catch up to him, but he was really good at squeezing through minute gaps in the crowd. “Avian!”

He paused suddenly, and I ran into the back of him.  Even if the closeness killed me, I was afraid to step back; he might run away if I gave him that distance.

“Avian, whatever I did, I…”  I trailed off.  What could I possibly say?  I had meant to kiss him—I had meant it—and I had known what I was doing.  What I didn’t understand was why it had upset him so badly.  If he didn’t want it, I’d gladly back off.  Since when was a single kiss the end of the world as one knew it?  And had it really been that bad…?  How embarrassing…  “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I finally said, albeit weakly.

“No,” he agreed, “And that’s the problem.  That’s always the problem.”  He didn’t sound like he was talking to me, so I didn’t reply.  Eventually, he murmured, “I have to go.”

As he stepped away, I grabbed his wrist.  “Don’t leave me.”

He spun around, irritation nearly hiding the glimmer of fear in his eyes.  “Don’t leave you?  You hardly even know me!”

“And if you walk away, I never will.”

“I know.  That’s why I’m doing it.”  And with that, Avian tore his arm out of my slackened grip and did exactly what he said he would.  I let him.