I'll Share With You My Heartbeat

twenty one

One of the perks that came with being transparent was the lack of heat on your skin. Kieran imagined he would've been boiling by this rate, laying on a rooftop under the blazing sun, if it weren't for his state of body.

Though if being set on fire meant gaining his sense of touch back, he would gladly take it.

Everything pointed him back to that moment. It was an experience Kieran couldn't wrap his head around. He created stereos of every second and played them on repeat in his head.

One by one, people gathered their belongings and began to exit the theater that night, ending the show on a very festive note.

Kieran stood at the end of his seat row, smiling fondly as he observed Lennon from afar. The boy had squeezed his way to the front of the stage, starting conversation with the performers and congratulating them for their hard work.

Typical Lennon.

The ravenhead didn't have the luxury of communicating with them, but he mouthed a silent thank you to the actors who played Orpheus and Eurydice.

He makes me feel alive too.

"Ready to go?"

Kieran turned to Lennon, who seemed to have appeared out of the blue. "Yeah."

As they left the entrance and stepped into the chilly air of the night, the ravenhead was overcome with a new kind of anxiety. Kieran had never been one about emotions. There had to be some kind of formula on how to end a special night like this.

"How are you feeling?" Lennon asked quietly as they stepped away from the crowd, wrapping his arms around himself to preserve warmth.

Confused and my nerves are on fire, Kieran wanted to tell him, but at that moment, he wasn't so sure if the boy would accept his reasons. "Okay," he settled on.

Lennon believed him. "You feel better about dancing?"

"I do, actually."

What now? Do I hug him? But there are people around. But Lennon doesn't seem to care. But you can't just assume he doesn't care now even though earlier—

Kieran's train of thought came to a halt when Lennon threw his arms around him in a makeshift embrace. A few onlookers' eyes caught on.

"Lennon."

He could sense the way his hands merged into the expanse of his skin like he was trying to hold him so tight with no prevail.

The boy let go before Kieran could utter a single vowel or move his limbs in response. "I'm so proud of you," he announced, "You're so incredible. Dancing, Kier? Would you really? That would be amazing."

Lennon grinned at him, expecting a thank you or hopefully an I agree! back.

"I wish I could touch you," Kieran blurted instead.

A look of complete solemnity crossed the chestnut boy's face, his smile fading instantly. "What?"

"I don't know why I care," he continued recklessly, words spilling out of his mouth like an open faucet, "I never cared about physical contact, Len, I swear. It never mattered to me. Ever. But I just feel so bad..."

The boy was frowning. Kieran couldn't tell if it was out of confusion or disappointment. Either way, he didn't like it when Lennon frowned.

Lennon shook his chestnut head, eyes wide with mystified sympathy. "It's okay, Kier. It's not like it's some kind of fulfillment or criteria. You not being able to touch me doesn't make me any less of your friend."