Butterfly Pulse - Oneshot

A thin, fourteen-year old boy lies curled up on his bed, eyes tightly shut, like he's trying to forget the rest of the world exists.  His hands cover his face, hiding it, but it isn't difficult to miss the convulsing of his shoulders and the sobs emanating from his throat.

His name is Ever Makai. And he wants to die. Desperately.

The tears stream down his face as he gulps for air, and he closes his eyes again, wanting to shut out everything. He wants to be able to stop listening to his mind, to have peace at last from the poisonous thoughts that haunt him constantly, night and day.

He's lost absolutely all hope. He can't think of a reason to stay, to keep holding on, because he just doesn't want to anymore.

He wonders bitterly why God, if he even exists, is cruel enough to keep him alive, only to prolong his suffering. He could perfectly well have died the day his parents did, in a car crash the day they were bringing him home from the hospital where he was born. That way, he'd have been spared all this pain. But maybe God wants someone to fuck with. Maybe he enjoys Ever's suffering. He wouldn't be surprised at all if it were true.

And if he dies, he'll spare everyone a lot of trouble. His aunt won't have the burden of the freaky faggot she has for a nephew anymore.  Ever knows she's sick of looking after him and, let's face it, he isn't the easiest kid to live with.  The teachers will have one less useless idiot to cope with. He has no friends, except Asher. And Asher-

Asher doesn't need you. He never has and he never will. You should know that by now.

Ever knows it's true, but it still hurts. That's another reason for wanting to die. Because the boy he's had a crush on since he can remember, the boy he's now completely and hopelessly in love with, would be better off without Ever in his life. He knows he's just an obstacle in the other boy's way, but that doesn't stop him from having feelings for him.

But he's never been good enough for anyone. And he'll definitely never be good enough for Asher.

Another small sob builds up at the back of his throat, and Ever lets it escape. Nobody will hear him here, and even if someone does, they won't care. No one ever has.

He catches sight of his reflection in the small mirror on his wardrobe door. He looks hideous, hair all over the place, eyes red and puffy. Just one look at himself makes him want to hide his face in his hands again and sob. How can he expect anyone, let alone Asher, be attracted to him? He's absolutely repulsive.

He slumps down, buries his head in the pillow again and whimpers softly. [i]Stop existing. Is it so much to ask for?</i> Isn't  God finished with him yet?

Right on cue, his phone rings, startling him momentarily.

Of course, he knows who it is right away. Asher is the only person who ever bothers to call him. Sometimes, Ever wonders why Asher makes the effort to spend time with him. Ever isn't worth his time. That much he knows.

Sighing softly, Ever presses the green button and answers, trying very hard to keep all emotion out of his tone.

"Ash?"

"Ever?" the fourteen-year-old's light, melodic voice answers. "Is everything okay?"

"S-sure, why?" Ever hopes and prays that Asher won't notice he's been crying, but it's probably too late now. Otherwise, he wouldn't have asked straight away of everything was fine.

"Liar. Something's wrong." It isn't a question. Ever had forgotten he otter boy's ability to see right through him like he's made of cellophane paper. He'd hoped that he wouldn't notice over the telephone, but clearly, it hasn't worked.

"Listen, I've finished band practice now. I'll be over there in a second, okay?" Asher hangs up before even letting Ever reply, and Ever bites his lip, worried. It's not like he doesn't want the other boy here, but he really doesn't want him to know he's been crying, and it's going to be hard to hide it now.

He drags himself upright and stares into the mirror again, taking deep, steadying breaths and fighting the urge to burst into tears again. He brushes the back of his hand against his eyes, drying away the tears still clinging to his eyelashes. He shuffles over to the bathroom next to his room and splashes cold water on his face, hoping it'll help bring his puffy eyes back to normal. It doesn't do much good.

He still looks like he's about to break down at any moment, though.

Calm down. Take deep breaths, he instructs himself. You do this every day, don't you? The fake happiness. It's no big deal.

Ever closes his eyes and breathes in and out a few times, and he has just enough time to compose his face into what he hopes is a halfway sane expression before the doorbell rings, startling him.

He scurries back to his tiny bedroom and sits on the bed, arms wrapped around his knees. He remembers the state his hair's in and attempts to smooth it down with his fingers, only making it stick up more.

The click of the front door is heard, and although he's too far away to make out the exact words, Ever recognizes Asher and his aunt's voices.

She'll be pleased to see him. Ever knows she likes Asher more than she likes him, and he can tell she wishes his nephew had turned out a bit more like the other boy. Sweet, attractive, and able to win anyone - especially adults - over.

The voice fade away, and now he can hear footsteps echoing along the hallway, approaching him. Moment later, Asher's head appears in the doorway, a cute, impish smile on his face.

"Ev?" he asks softly.

Ever's head snaps up to look at him, and Asher immediately knows he's been crying and that he's been trying to hide it. But Asher can tell. He can read Ever like an open book, and he knows his hazel eyes aren't usually that red or swollen. It's not just that, though. There's something about him that gives Asher the impression that something is seriously wrong.

And Asher might not have a clue of what's wrong with Ever. But he does know he genuinely hates seeing him upset, and fervently wishes he's able to do something about it.

Because Asher already knows what he feels for Ever is something well beyond ordinary friendship.

Asher's pulled out of his thoughts by Ever's voice, obviously wanting to distract him from what he's already seen.

"So how was band practice?" Ever asks. He is actually interested, even though the main aim of his question is to avoid talking about himself.

"Pretty crap, actually," Asher grins, sitting down on the bed beside the taller boy, despite the worry for Ever that's eating away at him. "By the look of it, everyone decided it'd be a good idea to spend two entire hours screaming at each other and smashing things. Basically, I locked myself in the bathroom and recorded a new song on my phone." Asher hates confrontations, and tends to hide away until everyone's calmed down.

"Really? Am I allowed to hear it?" Ever smiles, but Asher can't help bit notice how it looks like it's costing the hazel-eyed boy more of an effort than usual.

A faint blush creeps into the shorter boy's cheeks. "It isn't finished yet. Maybe when it is, you can."

There's a short, slightly awkward moment of silence between the two boys, and then Asher says softly, "You're hiding something from me, right?"

Ever's eyes widen in surprise. "Ash, I'm not-"

"You've been crying, haven't you?"

Ever opens his mouth to reply, but can't think of anything to say.

Asher edges closer to him and takes Ever's hand in his, their fingers lacing together. Ever looks a little surprised, but grips it nevertheless. Asher hopes the boy doesn't think he's a weirdo now, because do friends - male friends, that is - hold hands like that?

"Ev, you know you can tell me anything," Asher whispers. This seems to het a different reaction to what he'd expected, because Ever's suddenly shaking uncontrollably, and before Asher knows it, he's buried his head in his chest and has started sobbing softly.

Asher is at a complete loss for what to say, because Ever has never acted like this before. And he strongly suspects it's the first time the boy's allowed himself to break down like this in front of someone else. Asher knows Ever better than the other boy thinks, and he knows Ever wears a protective armor around himself at all times. Asher has never been able to figure out its purpose entirely, but he thinks it might be there to stop him from getting close to people, to prevent them from hurting him.

This is the first time he's seen Ever this vulnerable. And his guess is that this isn't the first time he's cried like this, but it is the first time he's dine it with someone else there.

So he does his best. He longs to kiss the boy, to kiss him and take the hurt away, to protect him from any more suffering... but he knows he can't do that. So instead, he hugs Ever tightly and allows him to cling onto him as if there was nothing else left in the world. He has to content himself with pressing his lips softly to the other boy's hair, and he immediately worries that he's gone too far, but he doesn't see a reaction from the boy, who continues to sob brokenheartedly into Asher's chest.

If there was anyone watching right now, they'd probably think the two boys are a couple, and Asher is well aware of this, but he can't help himself, and he can only hope Ever doesn't mind.

Eventually, though, Ever's sobbing fades away into a muffled whimpering, and Asher decides now is the right time to try and find out what's wrong with him. It isn't just for himself - even though, to tell the truth, he's pretty desperate to find out - but also because he knows from experience hat when something's bothering you, it's better to tell someone than to bottle it all in.

"You know you can tell me what's wrong, right? Maybe I can help," he murmurs softly.

The boy's pale, tear-stained face turns up to look at Asher, and he's struck, once again, by the pain and distress in his eyes. His bottom lip trembles and he says shakily, "You wouldn't understand. You'd hate me."

"Ev, I could never hate you. You know that."

But Ever just shakes his head sadly, painfully almost, and leans his hard back on Asher's chest. Asher would be happy to stay like this forever. He looks down at the boy, who's now closed his eyes, and Asher's guess is that he hasn't been getting a lot of sleep lately, so he just watches as his breathing begins to level out and the hurt is finally replaced from his face, leaving only a small, peaceful smile behind. He looks so beautiful it takes Asher's breath away.

He wonders if the boy's dreaming, and if he is, if he's dreaming about something happy. With that smile on his face, though, Asher figures he probably is.

Lately, his own dreams have been filled with nothing but Ever. It's amazing how quickly the slight infatuation he used to have with the boy has turned into something hugely more powerful. Sometimes, his dreams are a reflection of what he longs for, the feel of Ever's lips against his, their two bodies pressed together, fitting perfectly against one another... and sometimes, they're disturbing nightmares, where Ever keeps slipping away through his fingers, and is taken from him in a thousand different ways.

Asher resists the urge to shudder at the memories. That doesn't matter now, he tells himself firmly. Quit thinking about it.

Ever shifts slightly in his arms, murmuring something too low for Asher to hear. Asher has absolutely no clue that the boy's been dreaming about him this whole time, and that that something Ever's just murmured was his name. And he'll probably never know.

Asher steals a quick glance at the window. It's getting dark, and he knows his mother will be yelling at him if he doesn't come home soon. He'd happily stay here all night, but the prospect of being grounded isn't really that inviting. So he carefully shifts his position, tying to move Ever as little as possible and hoping he doesn't wake him, and lays him down on the bed.

He should leave now, he knows it, but he can't seem to help himself from admiring the sleeping boy for just a little longer. His breathing is light and soft and his expression is completely peaceful. He doesn't look troubled anymore - in fact, he looks like a child, completely sweet and innocent, and Asher can't hold himself back.

Hr leans down and places a soft kiss on the sleeping boy's lips.

And at that precise moment, like something out of a fairytale, Ever's eyelids flutter open, only to close again sleepily a second after.

Asher pulls away in shock, heart galloping. How much has he seen? How much will he remember? He fervently hopes that Ever, when he wakes up, thinks it's been part of a dream, because he doesn't know what he's going to do otherwise.

He can't stay here any longer, though. He's already proven he can't control himself. So he caresses Ever's cheek for one last time, murmurs "Night, Ev," and walks away, quietly closing the door behind him.

***

When Ever wakes up, the sun hasn't even fully come out yet. The smallest hint of light emerges from behind the curtains, but other than that, everything's dark and still. He looks down, surprised to see he's still fully clothed, and that the bed sheets are rumpled below him, but there's no sign of him actually having gotten into bed. It's more like he arrived and he passed out on top of it, or something.

Then he remembers - Asher came over, and he was dumb enough to first bawl his eyes out at him and then fall asleep on top of him. He doesn't actually remember Asher waking him up to get him off, though. Maybe Asher just laid him down on the bed taking care not to wake him? Ever's touched by this.

He also remembers dreaming about Asher. That's nothing new, but he senses something different this time. He frowns. He can't seem to recall anything out of the ordinary, bit dreams are like that - you're trying to remember them and they all but slip through your fingers instantly.

He remembers bring in some sort of dark, shadowy place. Sensing Asher was there somewhere and calling for him, arms outstretched... and Asher walking out of the darkness, smiling, and kissing him...

The kiss, that's it. In his memory, it's so vivid - if he struggles, he can even recall what Asher's lips tasted like. Peppermint. Ever isn't sure if it's just that his mind has reached a new level of obsession with the boy.

He stretches and rolls over, knowing that it's way too early to get up, but also that he isn't going to be able to go back to sleep. And that's when he feels it: a small, hard object digging into his flesh.

He rolls over again and examines it. It's Asher's phone. It must have slipped out of his pocket while Ever was crying into his chest.

I recorded a song on my phone today...

He knows Asher's not that comfortable with the idea of him hearing it, but he can't seem to help himself. It's not like I'm looking through his text messages or anything, he tells himself as he flips the phone open and searches for the audio files, heart pumping a little bit faster than usual.

He spots the folder and, with shaking hands, finds the one file and presses the play button.

Asher's graceful, melodic voice immediately fills the room, making its way delicately around the music. It takes Ever's breath away, and it dawns on him that he's never heard the other boy sing before.

A smile
A shot to my bulletproof heart
Shortness of breath and a butterfly pulse

Ever closes his eyes and lets himself be carried away by the song, drifting into a darkness filled with Asher's voice.

We'll fly
I'll rip through the clouds to find you
And give you wings from the shadow
Wings of moonlight and dust...

It's clearly a love song. Ever tries to focus on the melody, but he can't stop himself from wondering who it's for. Whose face filled Asher's mind as he was writing this?

The stars in your eyesight, the tears that they hide
The moon tonight will pity the living
How I wish I could be the one to sing you to sleep
And watch as the night falls and lights up your breathing.

The song comes to an end, and Ever sits there, stunned.

Who was this written for? Even though the words clearly aren't directed towards him, he still feels lucky to have heard them. Everything about the song is perfectly, heartbreakingly beautiful, and he tries hard not to think about the mystery girl - or boy - these words have been written for.

Come to think of it, he doesn't even know Asher's sexuality. Everyone says he's gay, but he's never heard the shorter boy actually admit it.

He tries to shove all this away from his mind. Asher. How he'll never be good enough for him. How he loves someone else. But, of course, it's impossible, and all-too-soon he's sucked into that familiar spiral of darkness, falling further and further down, with nobody to catch him.

Worthless.

Disgusting.

Faggot.

It's curious how his mind, himself, can cause a million times more damage than anyone else could. He's his own worst enemy. And he knows it.

He's plummeting down blindly into a bottomless pit of despair, unable to see where he's going, even if he wanted to. The only thing he can think about is Asher. He yearns desperately for him, his arms around him again - he doesn't care about the fact that his mind was probably the one who came up with the taste - and safety. The kind of safety only Asher's arms can give him.

He buries his face in the pillow, sobbing his heart out, desperately aching for someone to save him from himself. Bur there's no Asher with him now. Only the menacing darkness of his thoughts, engulfing him and refusing to let go.

***

"Ash!"

Asher feels a hand being placed upon his shoulder and whirls around. Ever stands awkwardly in front of him, the only other person in the deserted school parking lot. It's early, and most students haven't arrived yet.

"Ash, you left your phone at my place..." Ever says timidly, holding out the small device. Asher takes it, surprised he hasn't noticed his phone was missing until now.

But he doesn't say anything, because he senses the taller boy still has something to say.

In a voice so quiet Asher can barely hear it, Ever murmurs, "I heard your song... it's beautiful."

Asher is paralyzed. At least he doesn't know who the song is for. Yet.

"I was wondering... well, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I understand..." A light blush is starting to blossom on Ever's cheeks. "... But who's it for?"

He can't think of what to say. He can't lie. Ever will know. He can't tell the truth, not if he wants to keep Ever around. His brain feels like it's frozen, and it seems to have lost all control over his body... which is not good. At all. But he feels his lips part and, as though watching from someone else's point of view, he sees them form the word "you," and then the sound hits him and he realizes what he's just said, but it's late, too late...

A deathly stillness settles over them. Ever's hazel eyes are wide in surprise, or in fear maybe, and Asher curses himself a million times over for letting it slip. He'd sworn he never would. Now Ever probably hates him, or wants nothing to do with him, at the very least...

Wait. How the hell did their faces get so close together? Asher's still frozen to the spot, and the idea of Ever having moved closer to him is unthinkable.

But then something completely unexpected happens. So unexpected, in fact, that it takes Asher a moment to process it, to make sure his imagination isn't fooling him.

Ever's hand moves up to his face and caresses it softly, lightly, in a way Asher's never been touched before. His fingers move to the back of his neck, intertwining with the dark strands of hair, and if Asher didn't know better, he'd describe the touch as loving. Their faces get closer... and closer... and closer together, and before Asher knows it, Ever's warm lips are pressed to his own.

It's like time has chosen to hang still, pulling the two boys into a world of their own as they explore one another in a way they've only done in their dreams. And when they finally break apart, their fingers lace together, and their bodies cling to one another, never wanting to let go.

Both of them have found something today. Ever's found his anchor, his refuge, and Asher's found the boy in his dream after chasing after him for so many nights.

But above all, what the two boys have found is their missing jigsaw piece, something to fill the void in their souls that's been open for so long.