The Statistics Of Alen [BoyxBoy]

Carte Blanch

ev·a·nes·cent/ˌevəˈnes(ə)nt/adjective

  soon passing out of sight, memory, or existence; quickly fading or disappearing.  

🕔  

Ethan leaned back in his desk chair, eyes closed as a gentle dripping from his damp hair crept down the back of his neck. The sun was just starting to show itself in the early morning, seeing as he'd woken up and hour earlier than he normally would. Five in the morning. The thought made him tired, still, but he had to be the one to get the first shower. Ethan figured he'd wake up first thing in the morning, grab a quick shower, and then go back to sleep until breakfast. It was just that, the perfect plan. But Ethan couldn't bring himself to go back to sleep once he was awake. Even though the sky was dark, even though the rest of his house was silent, he couldn't bring himself to go back to sleep. 

Instead, Ethan drew his curtains and blinds, looking at the stars up there. The stars that confused Alen, and made him feel small yet excited. He sighed because right now, they were simply stars. Last night, the sky was terrifying. Last night, Ethan thought that if he glanced away from it, he'd fall in. Last night, he was excited, adrenalin pulsating through his body at the thought of how vast the universe was. However, they were just stars now. Ethan couldn't wrap his hand around how Alen did it. How he just looked at something that was terribly simple and made it so terrifyingly complex. He had to learn. Ethan wanted to learn. Then, a thought infiltrated his head. One word, and that word was: clock. He pushed off of his window sill, whirling around to a desk drawer. Pulling it open, Ethan made a note to organize it. He dug around for a bit until he found a wristwatch. 

Immediately, he set it on his desk, plopped into the thick black office chair, and shut his eyes. Ethan tried his best to listen to the ticking. One, two, three, four, five, ten, twenty- He was bored. This was awfully boring. He was sure he watched Alen do this for almost five straight minutes. He couldn't last a minute. Ethan shifted in his seat, tilting his head back with a sigh and tried again. One, two, three; Tick, tick, tick- This was not going to happen. He groaned out loud, leaning over the watch and staring. Watching it move was slightly more entertaining, but still not a pleasant past time. Gently, he nudged it a bit. So, if this wasn't insanely fun, why did Alen do it? Maybe he wasn't listening to it? No, he had to be. He had been holding it to his ear. 

Watching the hands go, Ethan realized that the time was wrong by a few hours. Alen had always made sure his clock had the correct time. He even had an alarm for it. Maybe having the right time was imperative for this to work. For what to work? Ethan didn't know. But he would find out. He made quick work of pulling his phone out and setting the watch to match. Then, Ethan held the watch up to his ear and closed his eyes. Again, he listened. Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick- And he was bored. He was so bored. How long had it been? Almost a minute. Again, Ethan groaned, set the watch down and stared at it. He dropped his chin on the desk not even an inch away from the watch. Alen's watch had to have talked to him. There was no way he just sat around and listened to it tick. Why did Ethan care again? He spared a brief glance to his window, watching as a sliver of sunshine spread slowly through the once inky sky. That's why. Ethan wanted to feel like he did last night. Excited. And afraid, immensely afraid. If Alen knew so much about the sky when he barely even liked it, Ethan needed to know why he liked clocks.   

He squinted at the small face of his old wristwatch. "Tell me your secrets," Ethan whispered, his voice sounding odd in the silence. Immediately, someone cleared their throat, and Ethan whipped his head up to the doorway where his mother stood.