the beautiful and the profound {joshler}

Nyctophilia

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(n.) a love of darkness or night, finding relaxation and comfort in the darkness.
josh has split knuckles and a nose ring.
tyler has crooked teeth and calloused fingers.
tw// suicide attempt, drowning.

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Everything is bleary and tinted a greenish blue, shapes distorting as his vision focuses on the ugly blue mosaic of a dolphin below him. He feels light and heavy at the same time, the tug of his mind in on itself and the push pull of water resistance and gravity keeping him bobbing along upside down on the surface.

He can here the blurred sound of music coming from where the party is happening inside the house. He thinks he recognises it as Heroes by David Bowie and he can't help but think about the poetic irony of it all. Lungs hot and bursting he rolls himself over, his clothes heavily slapping into his stomach as he floats on his back, fingers making ripples as he wiggles them.

He stares at the moon and wonders if it knows, knows that melancholic sense of doom he feels so deep inside his soul, Bowie is fading out and Tyler decides he should too, it seems right, his wet eyes are sore and he lets them flutter shut.

A deep breath through his nose and over the lapping of water in his ears he hears the Smith's There Is a Light and It Never Goes Out and his lips twitch into a hint of a smile.

Then he's sinking, his brain supplying the lyrics for him now he can't actually hear more than a muffled beat, echoing Morrissey's words and Tyler sinks and sinks and he doesn't think anymore, he's finally free from the constant noise that fills his mind, its blank and he's at peace, its euphoric.

His eyes are half open, staring at the never-ending blue around him, its slowly disappearing and his eyes are closing and then there's a heavy weight crashing into the water behind him, he doesn't move. His body is a lead weight and he's so tired he can't bring himself to move it, he's ready to sleep now.

But strong hands are on his shoulder, his face and there's lips on his forcing air into his lungs that burns and makes him want to scream but instead his eyes simply open wide and his lips are moving and the stranger pulls away and Tyler follows the pressure seeking for more but the strong hands are pulling him up up up dragging his consciousness back in to the mould of his body again and suddenly he's hit by cold refreshing air. He's wide awake now, gasping and choking, spluttering out water and the strong hands are a strong body, a wall that Tyler is draped over, pulling him through the suddenly thick like syrup water and up onto the pool edge.

Tyler lies on the concrete, still coughing, and he thinks he can hear Feel Good Inc. blasting through the speakers, this isn't poetic it's just ironic because right now he feels anything but good.

There's another cough and then a body hanging over his and Tyler can't help but shuffle closer desperate to leech the warmth quite literally dripping off it.

"What," a cough. "the heck were you doing?!" another cough and an incredulous look.

Tyler looks at their face now, messy curls falling over their forehead, broad nose, wide hazel eyes and perfect teeth and Tyler thinks they're an angel, but angels don't wear x files t shirts and docs.

Groaning, his head feels like it's being repeatedly pummelled by a sledgehammer, Tyler looks away from the beautiful stranger.