A Cut Too Deep [Syllke]

[Seodai]

Seodai blew through his lips, a frustrated expression that might have been too boyish for his age. He jerked his hand away, unintentionally harsh, unintentionally recoiling from the concern being offered. It wasn't that he didn't want Syllke to care. He just didn't want the Vantha to know. Until now it had been a non-issue. Being an outsider as he was, Syllke didn't have to look at Seodai and see weakness, see imperfections, see his flaws. He only saw another guy, one whom he had befriended, and they were on an equal playing field there. Now he did not see a way to avoid his confession, and he suddenly felt very uncomfortable in his own skin. It was almost as if the Seodai that existed with Syllke wasn't broken, but by speaking those damning words he would do away with that Seodai. He would be forced to be himself, flaws and all. "Syllke, really," he hedged, rewrapping his wound in bloody cloth. The sight of it made him feel queasy, and his usually golden visage paled a little. No amount of murmuring or diverting worked, and so at last Seodai turned to face his friend fully. The rain fell all about them, between them, too chilly to be comfortable. Seodai wished it could numb him inside as it did out, quiet the flaming fire of humiliation that burned in his chest. He hated himself, in that moment, big blue eyes dropping to his own hand. "I'll find Noc when we get back to town. He'll heal it." That almost could have been enough. For anyone else it might have. But Syllke was too clever, too perceptive. If he hadn't picked up on the strange brevity of Seo's words, the very atmosphere around them was charged with an emotional weight that Seodai couldn't deny. There was obviously more to it. With something almost akin to a groan of frustration, Seo curled his fingers upon themselves. "It won't heal. It will never heal. I can't. I can't. My blood will not clot, my wounds will not close. Something as ridiculous as this," he said, speaking loudly against the winds which had picked up. "It could be the death of me. Pathetic, isn't it? A Denvali," he said, his words scathing and filled with self-reproach. "Thwarted by a paper cut." Seodai made a face and, unable to meet Syllke's gaze, stepped around the Vantha, prepared to continue their journey back to town.

[Syllke Skyglow]

Syllke’s brow furrowed, more at Seodai’s tone of voice than any real understanding of what he was trying to impart. The Vantha didn’t understand at all – not about why Seo’s wound was acting strange. But he more than got the frustration and anger rolling off of his friend in waves. The hand he could do nothing about. The anger – well, he might be able to do something about that. As Seo shoved past him, Syllke put a hand out, catching him in the chest, stopping him. “Hey . . . sorry. That . . . that sounds miserable. Life is fucked up, right?” His hand moved to Seo’s arm. “Look, don’t worry. I . . . I won’t tell anyone. We get back to town – you get it looked at. And, from now on, we’ll just be more careful. Wouldn’t want to lose you – I like beating your ass running too much.” His arm slipped around Seo’s shoulders, and his colorful eyes looked into those sad, mad blue pools of swirling angst. Syllke smiled, having to tilt his chin up a bit as he gripped the back of Seo’s curls and pulled his head down until their foreheads met. “Things like this, well . . . they suck, royally, but . . . “ He squeezed the back of Seo’s neck. “It doesn’t have to stop you – from anything.” He shrugged. “Just don’t peg out on me OK? I don’t want to have to drag your ugly ass back to town, alright?” Sometimes, with Syllke, it was rather hard to say if he was joking or not.

[Seodai]

Seodai was coming to depend on the relentlessness of the artist from Vantha to draw him out of his darker moods. Before Syllke had come along, he seldom had these moods. He stayed on the farm proper, and he really dealt with Theo and few other people. It had been easy to remain quiet and passive there, to remain unbothered. But the more Syllke dragged him out into the real world, the more he was forced to deal with himself as much as anyone else. Syllke had a persistent way of shoving Seodai over that precipice and, somehow, being at the bottom to catch his fall. So it was now, when familiar fingers curled about the nape of his neck and forced his head downwards. He could see the swirling, dancing colors of Syllke's eyes, feel the warmth of his breath in the rain. Syllke warmed him, somehow, with his words, with the seemingly inconsequential squeeze. He wanted to smile for Syllke, to make him feel as if his effort was rewarded with some significant change. But, it wasn't, and he couldn't. He could only be glad that, for the first time in his life, he had someone other than Uncle Theo to walk him through this morose moment. Suddenly, he wasn't all alone anymore. "Syllke," he said quietly. He waited a moment, tension ripe in the air. And then, pulling back a little, Seodai smiled a crooked smile. It was evident that it took much effort, but it was effort he was willing to give. "You've never seen my ass."

[Syllke Skyglow]

Syllke chuckled, as they pulled apart, that moment over. He had no idea if Seo was in any way mollified. He was the type of boy that seemed to easily sidestep unpleasant or uncomfortable topics. Seodai had a much more oblique approach to life than the artist who preferred, usually, to rush at it head on with arms wide open. “No, almost – but not yet.” He quipped back. “Come on then – let’s get the hell out of this rain and you can go see this Noc and let him do his thing.” He moved away at a quick pace, though this time walking and not running over the treacherously slippery and jagged rocks. In his mind he tucked that name away for future reference – Noc, someone who apparently had some knowledge of what it was that made Seo’s blood run so freely, and so lethally. LE FIN