Together Alone

Ch. 5 For your eyes only

Levi's POV:

After a long night of recovery, I had sprung out of bed lively and eager. I couldn't wait to see Darby, even if it would only have been for the forty minutes it took for the bus to reach my stop.

I raced down to the bus stop, intending to savour each second I could get with him, but on arrival, to my utter disappointment, the bench was completely empty. Emotion overcame me, and feeling rejected, tears brimmed in my eyes. Maybe he wasn't into me like I was into him. I settled on the seat, my feet dangling, making little circles in the air. I instinctively kept looking up and down the street, in hope of Darby still coming. I checked my watch; 7:15. Still no Darby. Boredom overcame me as I sat there, picking at the stitching on the hem of my sweatshirt, trying to ignore the immense sadness in the pit of heart.

Out of nowhere, the sound of footsteps hitting the pavement could be heard in the distance, and purely out of inquisitiveness, I glanced towards the noise.

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" Darby puffed, jogging towards me, holding his skinny jeans up with one hand.

I burst into a sprint towards him, wrapping my arms around his waist and nuzzling my head into his shoulder, as if I hadn't seen him in decades. Embracing me in a massive bear hug, Darby pecked me lightly on the top of my head. I looked up in surprise at the tall boy.

"Sorry, instinct," he mumbled shyly.

"s' okay" I whispered. "I liked it"

We both took a seat and sat there in silence for a moment.

"Levi, tell me your story," Darby asked, cutting through the awkwardness.

"Hmm?"

"Your story; who you are, your life."

I shifted uncomfortably and looked down shaking my head, fighting back the sudden unnecessary tears that were gathering in my eyes, at the thought of opening up.

"I don't think I can," I croaked. "I don't want to put that on you. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, love. How about I tell you mine instead?" he posed knowingly.

"I'd like that," I nod, joy filling my eyes again.

"Well," Darby began, putting his arm behind me on the top of the bench, chills running through me from the breeze his motion made. "I've been a foster child since birth, so I've had quite the number of families over the years, each usually lasting about a year, before they get sick of my disorderly ways," he said, gesturing to the bus shelter, which was smothered with bright green graffiti.

"Wait, this- this is you?" I questioned, looking at the paint.

"Sure is."

It was stupid of me for never making the connection, and now I knew, it was clear as day. Bright green spray paint -duh? Who else could it have been?

"My loudest cries are still too quiet for you to care" I muttered, reading the words Darby had written on the inner wall.

"Deep, huh?" he smirked.

"Dark, more like,"

"We all have our burdens," he said, a hand on his heart, looking off into the distance dramatically.

"Very poetic, Curly," I joked, giving him a playful whack.

"Anyway, I've always had run ins with the law, I guess. It's been my way of getting out all the built-up anger at everyone around me. Graffiti's my favourite, and a good roll of toilet paper isn't bad either. Its stupid, meaningless revenge, but I do it anyway. I guess that's just my nature; vindictive," Darby sighed.