I'll Share With You My Heartbeat

twenty

If someone were to tell you to put down your lifeline, would you have listened?

Lennon had spent years holding onto things too tight. Till the brittle joints of his fingers ached and blisters formed on his calloused skin. It was the fear of being empty-handed that chained his mind to the camera in his hands. And while it was dear to him, sometimes he wondered if the world would look a little different if he didn't spend so much time seeing it through viewfinders.

And this boy somehow convinced him so easily. Somehow he managed to dent this foundation of a mindset Lennon had built with just a few sentences.

Kieran was a portrait picture.

Whenever Lennon took pictures utilizing shallower depths of field, the background would blur, narrowing the plane of focus to what was in front of the lens.

That was Kieran— every detail in their surroundings blurred as Lennon placed all his attention on him and him only. Sloe-eyed, prominent lashes that added depth to his gaze. Hair in need of a trim that trickled down the sides of his face, dark enough to contrast the cool tones of his ivory, transparent skin.

Lennon slipped his camera into his camera pouch and decided to leave it alone. Then he took the ravenhead's arm— well, kind of— and led him into the darkness of the theater.

They found their assigned velvet-coated seats and settled into them.

Lennon propped himself up to spy at the dimly lit stage. There was still time before the musical began.

"I've been wanting to watch Hadestown for a while now," he admitted excitedly, practically bouncing in his seat, "Precious used to talk about Greek gods all the time. They're very interesting." He carried on easily. "I remember Hades and Persephone more than Orpheus and Eurydice. Goddess of Spring. God of the Underworld— you know I always wondered if they were real and if people saw them after death." He turned to grin at Kieran. "I don't suppose you've seen Hades, right?"

The ravenhead mirrored his smile uneasily, mind blank.

Lennon scooted closer, wrapping his fingers around the armrest between them. "Hey. How are you feeling?" he whispered.

Kieran nuzzled his head against the chestnut boy's, eyelids fluttering close. "Nervous. I'm trying to convince myself it's all in my head."

"What can I do to help?"

The ravenhead exhaled through his nose, shifting in his seat for maximum comfortability. "Just stay with me," he said, "and keep talking."

Lennon stared at him, admiring the sculpted outline of Kieran's side profile when the ravenhead raised a hand and rubbed his face.

"Please," Kieran added quietly, glancing at the boy who was currently stunned into silence.

"Oh." The chestnut boy cleared his throat, pulling off his beanie and looking around. "Well, what to talk about?" His eyes landed back on Kieran. "I see Athena's determination in you. More on the logic side than on the emotional side."

"Athena?"

"Athena was the Greek goddess of battle strategy and wisdom... I think."

Kieran hummed his acknowledgment, though a line had appeared between his brows. He let Lennon carry on.

"Or Artemis, goddess of the hunt. Protective. Focused. I see that in you too."

Kieran liked the way the chestnut boy talked about him like he had known him for lifetimes on end. He smiled as more and of as the audience filled the theater. "How about you?"