A Certain Sort Of Loneliness

Embers

Coming back after so long is, as always, a stagnant feeling - a festering sensation of some acrid nervousness that makes his steps heavy and languid as he walks to the cafeteria. How is he supposed to explain this week gone by? His school absence, and lack of activity online, his refusal to respond to messages out of some self imposed isolationism that ultimately led to nothing but more turmoil. Will they even want to speak to him, after something like this? It's the first time something like this has happened (and Emil has no guarantee that it will be the last), but what to do with himself and these people?

He waits by the usual spot, left of the doors to the northern part of the campus, pulling at his sleeves and adjusting the straps of his backpack far too many times to be out of necessity alone - anxiously waiting, waiting.

"Emil!" He turns to the shout - surprised to see smiles greeting him (with the exception of Michelle who seems annoyed at him for a few seconds, before her face splits in to a grin and she practically runs at him, something that takes him a little off guard). He's met with a flurry of questions, of where he was and why he was gone and whether he was going again, and he answers - as truthfully as he can allow himself to be - before they all (Michelle, Matthew, Yong Soo, Lili and him) sit down, all together as if nothing had happened.

It's peaceful - perhaps not calm but it's comfortable, homely somehow, even if the twinging pains in Emil's arm refuse to stop. Leon's arms sidle around him at some point, accompanied by the usual remarks and touchy mannerisms - something that Emil refutes, embarrassed and flustered by his nonchalant closeness. He's left no better when Leon finally leaves, "gifting" him with a smirk, a wink and a quiet whisper, that Emil thinks only he heard;

'It's good to have you back, we missed you.'

It's something that leaves him feeling unexpectedly warm, giddy with something he can't quite place.

***

Lili asks him to meet her in the old science lab after class, not trusting a week alone to leave him unscathed - and she's right, of course, (she always is) but Emil can't help but feel frustrated at his own dependence.

This isn't the first time they're doing this. Lili insisted since she found out, the two of them often arranging to slip away during the quiet times, whenever she noticed him tugging at his sleeves one time too many or simply wanted to make sure, to reassure herself that he was some sort of secure, no matter how fragile.

He's not sure how to feel about this arrangement, honestly speaking - it's uncomfortable, having to show someone each new cut and scar, some sense of guilt trembling in his chest each time fresh ones scatter across his skin. It's natural to feel guilty, isn't it? To feel bad for the worry you've caused with your own stupid decisions, for the sense of quiet disappointment that Emil can't help but find within Lili's empathy.

The sadness she feels for him is no different than hurting her, no different than cutting in to her skin rather than his own, is it not?

Yet he does not protest this arrangement; perhaps out of some sense of want to make amends, obliging by her wishes in an attempt to give her some sense of ease. He wonders why it makes her feel better (or so she says) - would it not be easier to forget? To check every once in a while and send him to someone else and burden someone more qualified? The number of cuts will not lessen through this - his self hatred will not be quelled and she knows this.

They both know.

'Yet still, she persisted.'

And he cannot understand it, not yet - but he will humour her choice to face this storm, try and play in to some foolish hope for contentment. He can only hope it does not end in tears - neither for her nor for him - though mostly for her; his tears no longer have worth, his pain having become unimportant through long-standing persistence.

***

She joins him soon enough, quickly unpacking her bag - plasters, steri-strips, bandages, gauze dressings and disinfectant spray; a growing set of supplies that Emil feels reluctant to use given that Lili bought it (and out of her own money at that) for his sake and no other, though she said that then he had all the more reason to use it - to not let her efforts go to waste.

"You still haven't told me how much I owe you." he mumbles, holding out his arm for her to sterilize.

"Yes I have," she says, dabbing a cotton bud against the wound lightly, "You owe me nothing, I want you to be safe. And healthy. And happy."

He pauses.

"But I can't give you that," he frowns, "That means I'm indebted to you."

"Your happiness doesn't have monetary value Emil," she says under her breath, quiet with concentration, "Happiness is priceless and worthless all at once, people's feelings aren't tangible enough to be converted in to materialistic worth - that's why it's so important."

She pauses for a moment, and Emil can't help but feel as though within a few sentences, she's grown so much older-

"Humans spend their whole lives chasing after it - everyone's convinced they know the right way to get there. We're all Icarus in the end, aren't we? Either we fly too low because we've already lost hope, or our never-ending need for satisfaction spurs us to over-exert ourselves and plummet in to the nothing."

"I'll be content when I'm dead. People are never satisfied - nothing is ever completely enough for anyone, and I'm no different."

She smiles at him, not with sadness but rather with a slightly pained sense of knowing,

"But that's not true at all, is it Emil? If you would ever be satisfied with something like that you'd be long gone, don't you think? We all yearn for happiness in the end, but happiness can only be formed if we've had a sense of hopelessness, things only have worth because we say they do and we do so because we've seen so, so much worse."

She's applying the steri-strips now, giving him a sympathetic glance every now and then when she grazes against the open flesh.

"I won't ask you to stay, and I won't convince you that there's sure to be better out there; it's a cruel world - and it's not, too. The world isn't cruel and it isn't benevolent either - it just is. It exists and goes on and reforms over and over again - no version of it is the same and we will never see a single reincarnation of it again. And we all see it differently, too - my eyes will never see this place the way you see it, and isn't that enchanting? The idea that you and only you will see this world? Doesn't that make you want to stick around and see it for just a little longer? To postpone your decision to end it all, to postpone the one choice only you will be left unable to regret?"

"If there's no point in being alive then there's no point in being dead."

"Is that what's kept you here so long?" She laughs, "I wouldn't be surprised, even if I think there's more to it than that." She wraps the bandage around his arm, tightening it a little before securing it with a medical tape of sorts.

"You know, despite what I said before - about not trying to convince you, I mean - I hope you stay, after all. I won't force you or anything but...If I had the choice between you staying, or leaving....I would always choose for you to stay," She seems younger now, eyes softer, more vulnerable, "Maybe that's selfish of me, but...I would. Always - every single time."

They say nothing for a while, minds whirling in stop motion thoughts, feelings jumbled in some limbo within their heads.

'But isn't that just the way humans are?'

Forgot to update this one on wattpad and only did it ao3 by accident! 

as always please comment your thoughts! seeing people respond rly spurs me on