Darkside [Elijah]

[amaya hisoka siriano]

Sex was easy. That's why Amaya loved it so much. He wouldn't admit it, but he preferred the shallow, straight path compared to the thorny but rewarding one. He'd inherited it from both his parents, though he never knew it. But sex was the easy path. Gay men are said to think about sex every eight seconds. It's instinctual, basic, Id.

The typical path went like this - Amaya pushes them over, they blush for a bit, then they give in to their emotional desires. Perfect. Clinical, even.

So why was it so scary when this man gave in?

If anything, it was the suddenness, the unexpected speed. Rather than refuse him at all, Eli had returned the sexual favors. That wasn't all that different, though - Amaya had been with as many gay men as straight men. And how was he to know what this man's sexuality was?

Then it hit him - it was the way he'd kissed him. So gently, kindly. Not passionately or sexually-charged. Sweet. Innocent. Amaya had never experienced any kind of love, even the odd love of this teacher's kindness. Or, if he had, he refused it for sex. But here was this man, forcing him to accept love.

And it hurt. Hurt like none of the hurt before. Not hurt in a way that he could blame it on someone else's fault, or was physical. Hurt of regret, of missing out on such an integral factor of humanity. And he couldn't handle it.

In frustration, anger, confusion and pain, Amaya pushed Eli away, further into his desk, knocking over some pens and paper in the process. Then he sped out of the room, heading straight for the deepest and darkest recesses of his room. He needed to not think anymore. Not think. Not think.


XxX





Outfit : Click Me

[/color]
Notes : igotgoingandcouldn'tstop[/i]
Tagged : Elijah[/i]
Song : Drumming Song - Florence + The Machine[/blockquote][/size][/center]

[elijah daniel jacobs]

Kissing, for Eli, was easy. It was simple, kissing was simple. But for some unknown this kiss felt different. It was not so simple. Every other time he had kissed someone it was thought out, plannned even. This was impulse. Eli wasn't used to working on impulse, but it felt right. Eli had no intentions of taking the kiss any further than just a kiss.

As he pushed himself more into it, he could feel the boy pulling away. No not pulling, pushing. Pushing Eli into his desk then running. Eli stood there dumbfounded. He watched as the boy ran. Ran to where? Eli didn't know. He wanted to follow but his feet wouldn't move. It was if he was glued to his current position. Why had the boy ran away? Eli asked himself. He knew he wouldn't get the answer from just asking himself. He needed to find out. There was someway. Then it came to him. The boy was a writer maybe if Eli just wrote him something and left it for him... No, it sounded too crazy, but it just might work.

Eli pulled himself together and moved behind his desk to sit down. He grabbed a blank sheet of paper and a pencil. Then he wrote, the emotions he had inside just needed to get out.

The smell of mangos and other tropical fruits filled the air, the day I was born. It was a humid early February day. No scrap that. He needed something that would connect. What could he write? Something about his childhood? Something about his powers? The first time he made love? This was frustrating, trying to decide what to write. Should he even write a story about himself? How about a story about a young, confused, man who wasn't sure what to do?

Love was never something that, Tom Mitchell had never experienced before. Not that he was experiencing it now. It was something he had always wondered about. He knew what the illusion of love was, but not true love. It was something that he wanted to feel, to experience. He didn't know whether to look for it or if it would just hit him the face like a bug on the windshield. It was confusing. Then it did hit him. Love wasn't going to find him and he wasn't going to find love. If it showed up it would be there. He had given up hope. Eli took the note and put in an envelope and wrote the boy's name on it. Amaya Siriano, it read. He put it outside the door and knocked walking away briskly. Not knowing what the boy would think.

Outfit

[/b] *---*---*---*---*---*---*Clicketh Here
Notes *---*---*---*---*---*---*--
Tagged *---*---*---*---*---*---*--
Song *---*---*---*---*---*---* Madness – Muse[/center]

[amaya hisoka siriano]

Amaya was curled up in a fetal position for a time period that he couldn't tell you. Time had gone all wibbly-wobbly. Seconds felt like hours. Minutes felt like milliseconds. In reality, it was a few hours, which were marked by the setting sun.

He'd missed his afternoon classes, which was unusual for him. He didn't care about his education properly, but he never chose to skip. However, when you're trying your best to disappear from existence, your priorities get scrambled.

When he did manage to move, Amaya found a note pushed through the bottom crack of his door, with some words scrawled on it. It took him a moment to read it, as his vision was off from squeezing his eyes so tightly shut.

It was the beginning of a story, he discovered. A little piece of prose. A piece of prose that hit way too close to home. And considered who he was assuming addressed it to him, it hit even closer.

As kind as those words were, though, it would take Amaya quite some time before he could sit in on his creative writing class again.


XxX





Outfit : Click Me

[/color]
Notes : ---[/i]
Tagged : Elijah[/i]
Song : Drumming Song - Florence + The Machine[/blockquote][/size][/center]