Coma ➷ Izzal

Chpt.11

Axl used to believe love was a game, a selfish one used out of personal needs and desires. The idea of forever was deemed as pathetic, just like the idea of being loved back.

But under the sun's burnishing caress, the yellow warmth buzzing against the hairs along his arms and filling his soul, all Axl felt was cherished. The sharp grass prickling against his shoulders had no remorse, long-overgrown weeds intwining themselves within his hair and tickling his jaw with an agile sway. Nicotine ravages his senses, a strong smoke filling his nostrils and stagnant upon the tip of his tongue. When he turns his head, the familiar crinkle at the corner of Izzy's eyes bring a delicate curve to his lips, and he's contemplating whether forever could truly mean anything more than this moment.

And if there was no forever, Axl was beyond grateful to share a moment like this beside Izzy.

Izzy props himself up on his elbow, his head tilting as he peers down at Axl, vivid admiration swiveling through his emerald irises. Axl thinks back to Lafayette, detentions spent basking on the lacrosse field, heavy breaths and pacing heartbeats finding their relief within each other's presence.

But now they're older, and Izzy no longer has that whimsical youth struck within his gaze, and he's lost the excitation in his movement that used to be so evident. When Axl looks into Izzy's eyes, he sees prototypes of the chartreuse forest that used to shine so brightly. He sees a man drained, a man scarred, and a man fighting for the last inch of passion to keep him going.

Axl wants to kiss Izzy, and breathe life right back into him. He no longer wants to cling to this false illusion of death wallowing behind him, and instead hold onto Izzy's heart as though it were his own.

Because he needs it.
He needs him.

"I love you, you know?" The words fall from his tongue like an insipid joke, a simple statement which couldn't possibly derail their lives by its emittance. But it could, and Axl's heart throbs with anticipation as he peers at Izzy, the adoration in his gaze far from withering.

Izzy has the gentle simper on his face again, the one that rarely says anything to a stranger, but most definitely means the world to Axl, perhaps because of its rarity.

"I love you too, you know?" Izzy echos, subtly scooting closer to Axl, blades of long grass falling against his forearms.

Axl smiles, and it's genuine and raw, a soft guffaw falling from his lips as he moves even closer to Izzy. He could feel the warmth on the brunet's skin as their forearms brush together, a soft sigh falling from his mouth as Izzy's lips sweep against his cheek. When he tilts his head up, Izzy wastes no time finding his neck, carefully pushing him against the grass and hovering on top of him.

"What a change of events.." Axl exhales with a broad smile, his eyes relaxing shut as Izzy's tongue finds the corner of his lips.

"You're thinking about detention.. the lacrosse field?" Izzy mumbles, although the certainty in his voice overthrows the question. Of course Axl was recalling the memory; the way it felt vying for the taste of Izzy on his own tongue, the way it felt to be close to him, hovering over him and pleading for that intimacy.

Axl allows the grass to tickle his ears as he cranes his head back, fingers running through Izzy's hair as he holds him close. He could feel the guitarist's hands trailing along his thighs, bringing his legs around his waist while their kiss deepens. When Axl sinks into the soft soil beneath him, all left pushing on him was no longer the incessant need to breathe, to feel, and then to give up. But instead, the need to embrace Izzy's warmth, his aura, and his essence. He was captured by Izzy, whether it be a net of this sanctioned love, or years and years of false hope finally allowing him to reclaim that desire to live.