Words (Muke)

Four: Waves

"You can't stop the waves, but you can learn to surf,"

~Jon Kabat-Zinn

Michael wants to be a part of it when he dies. A part of the ocean. It's so vast and large that no one will ever be able to tell what's him and what isn't. He wants to be part of its strength and it's beauty. He wants to jump in and never been seen again.

"Michael?" Luke's voice is hesitant and unsure. Michael's edging closer to the water's edge and Luke's panicking. Michael wouldn't. Would he?

Luke takes Michael's hand and pulls him away from the water that's pounding against the beach shore. He's worried about the boy in black. Michael pulls his hand out of Luke's large one and hides it in his sweater. He's scared that Luke will find out. Not that he's really trying to find it.

Luke tries not to be hurt by Michael's withdrawal, he know that the boy can't help it. Michael's gone his whole life without feeling affection and Luke's is strong. Michael's scared and unsure of how to proceed. But the rejection stings Luke.

"Sorry," Michael mutters. He can see the hurt in Luke's eyes, can see that it's over powered with worry. And Michael finds it in him to walk away from the water's edge dragging Luke with him. "Let's do something else,"

Luke smiles at Michael and remembers the boy's ribs digging into him as they hugged in the shop.

"Let's go get something to eat," Luke says tugging on Michael's sleeve, Michael goes willingly to prevent his sleeves riding up, but the thought of the food sickens him. He's fat and unworthy of food. People like Luke deserve to eat, not fat disgusting people like Michael.

"'M not very hungry," Michael muttered as he followed the blonde back to his car.

Luke could sense that Michael was trying to worm his way out of eating and he couldn't let him, "That's okay. Just eat as much as you can," Luke told the smaller boy.

Michael's stomach twisted uncomfortably. He did not want to eat. He didn't even want to be alive. Michael wanted to be dead. He wanted to be nothing. He already was nothing, but his body was still functioning with meant that he was a shell. Michael hated being a shell. No one could breathe the life back into him so why was he still here? Oh how he wants to be dead.

Luke begins to ramble on about the random things and Michael drinks in every detail. He's not sure how long he'll be alive. This could be his last chance to see something so perfect. Michael doesn't want it to be. For a moment Michael's thinking being alive might not be so bad if Luke's there, but he knows how the story goes. Luke will leave him just like everyone else and Michael will be left even more damaged than before.

Luke's talking about his family. His mum, Liz. His brother's Jack and Ben. Michael notices how he doesn't really mention his dad, but he recalls his own and doesn't ask questions. Luke talks about penguins and colours. He talks about how everything we call a name might not actually be that thing, that we as humans have just named it that. He talks about how numbers might really be colours and colours letters and letters numbers, and maybe we have it all backwards. Michael's head is spinning and for once it's a good thing. And Michael truly doesn't mind.

"We're here," Luke sing-songs as he turns off the car. And Michael's disappointed because he liked listening to Luke talk. Liked watching how Luke would look at him for a few seconds before snapping back to the road. How his hands would leave the steering wheel for a second before he realized what he was doing and placed them instantly back on.

Michael climbs out of the car when he sees Luke already out and waiting for him. Michael's intimidated by the stairs leading up to Luke's house. Even they look nicer then the entirety of Michael's home.