The train

Short short, I have been super busy, and have not had much time to write, but wrote this little vignette today, and thought I'd share.

The train has left the station, read newspapers blow across the platform and onto the tracks. it is like a sepia photograph- a daguerreotype.  But there, in the corner lies a hat, red and forgotten.  It sits like a stereotype, a red rose of romance, of forgotten love and longing, unrequited love on a far away shore.  I wander over to it, thinking of the missed train, missed goodbyes and promises, missed movie endings, and fairytale kisses.  I pick up the hat and think- in another story this would be the closing scene, that story would be a tragedy, no dry eye would be left in the audience.  But this hat is a stranger’s and reminds me only of my mother laugh as I stepped out of her arms, and onto the train.

Smoother than Silk

Ahh I really shouldn't be starting anything new, as I can't keep up with what I have already started.  But well, I already wrote this so.  Why not.  I've never written anything like this before (uh oh bad words and erm other stuff *blush) so here goes.  It is again, very very unedited and I am until now the only one who has read it for coherence meaning it may make no sense.  I hope it does, and I hope you like reading it.

so without further adu Smoother than Silk:

“Look, they got her a little.” I leaned forward in my seat.  Even though Trixie was a huge dog, the bulls dwarfed her.  The single horn on each of their heads was slender, but looked wickedly sharp.

           

“That's old.” Carol whispered, leaning back in her chair. “Hush, and watch.” Trixie barked and herded and pushed and nudged at the bulls.  I hadn’t been excited before, but this was amazing.  A small giggle passed my lips, and one of the bulls' huge heads swung around to look at me, it was the leader.  It paused, the bellowed, whipping its huge head back around toward Trixie scratching a deep red line into her golden fur.  All four of us watching gasped, and chaos ensued.  

           

The bulls bellowed together and thrashed, throwing Trixie against the stalls walls and doors. She was gored more times and scratched.  It was a miracle she wasn’t trampled.  We all sat stunned.  The sounds she made were the worst.  I wanted to go grab her but I couldn’t move.  I could barely follow Trixie's movement with my eyes.

           

Suddenly Carol stood and did what I wish I could have.  She opened the stall and called to Trixie who shot out of the stall like a bullet from a gun.  Cliché, but true.  Trixie went straight to a crate, which looked to be made of some sort of reinforced metal bars.  I wondered why she would do something like that, but when the bulls tried to follow her I wished I could have fit in the box with her.  But somehow Carol managed to keep them inside.  She had to be some kind of superhero.

           

The next moments were a blur.  I heard a mix of sounds, and saw a mix of colors, but the next things I was really aware of were Trixie's whimpers next to my cheek and Carol's hand on my shoulder blade.  The other two were gone.  I didn't mind.  I didn't really know them some random cousins of Grey. 

           

The bulls were quiet; Carol had somehow gotten them into their separate corrals.

“You okay?” She asked, I nodded.  Trixie licked the fingers I draped through the bars of the crate. “You want to help me with the next bit?” I shrugged and stood.  I wiped my hands on my pants.  I was a bit dazed.  I really hoped Trixie would be okay, but Carol didn’t seem too worried.

           

Carol pulled another large crate from the stall we were sitting in.  It held small black and red rocks.  She nodded to another crate further back covered with a dark cloth.

           

“Those are fire iguanas, very poisonous, but they like to help us.  They put a leg in the box and release some venom, we put the bull's leg in the box and they get punished.  Con on we've got to do it fast or it doesn't work as well.”

           

The iguanas were huge and stocky, but very complacent.  One by one thy placed their right front foot into the box then filed back into their crate.  It was very uncanny, but then again lots of things about this now life were strange and uncanny, like unicorn bulls, and well, everything else.  The worst thing about the iguanas, though, was their eyes, there were almost human, but that wasn’t it, it was more than that.  There was definitely someone home, and yet they were going to sit in that crate for who knew how long. 

           

Carol turned to take the box of poison to the bulls and I discretely brushed my hand over the head of the last iguana.  It was warm to the touch.  On of the warmest and softest things I had ever touched, nothing like the scaly cool skin I had been expecting.  So so soft.  I touched my hand to my lips trying to preserve the feeling. Softer than velvet.  It was how Haley had described first touching her boyfriends dick.  Softer than velvet.  I shook my head.  Gross.  That’s how I had ended up at the barn at 7:30 am on a Saturday morning anyway.  To avoid Grey's penis.  What a douche- what a gorgeous douche.  But was he really, a douche, he had been pretty nice to me, and he was so pretty-

           

“Alex! What are you doing, come here and help me carry!” I turned my head, oops.  I stood, my fingers still against my lips, tingling slightly

Softer than velvet.

The tingle didn’t fade.  In fact it seemed to get stronger.  I couldn’t seem to sit still at breakfast, I tore my croissant into tiny pieces and picked at the pulp in my orange juice, but worst of all, each time I crossed and uncrossed my legs I somehow brushed against Grey's legs.  Each time his eyes would seek mine until he caught them.

           

Grey's eyes were his most dangerous features.  They were the one that made me most want to give in to temptation.  The one I pictured looking up into as he thrust into me from above, my nails digging into his sweat slicked back as I gasped for breath- wait, what, I'd never thought that before, what was going on? I focused on separating my croissant pieces into layers, and then crossed my legs, this time to fidgety and to readjust the suddenly hard flesh between my legs.

           

“Alex, you seem flushed, are you okay?” I blushed more and eagerly assured my soon to be mother in law I was quite alright.  Carol looked at me suspiciously.  I tore another bit of my croissant and pulled my legs under me on my chair. No chance of accidental footsie now.

           

I made my self eat, and be still.  I avoided looks from all at the table and got lost in my thoughts:

Trixie running from the stall, blood dripping through her golden fur.

           

The bulls with single horns, their horns making their shadows look like fat unicorns. They looked magic, especially at night, everything here seemed magical at night.  The rose garden, the bulls, even Grey and all his family, the house, especially when I wandered through waiting for everyone to fall asleep.

           

Haley.  How much I missed her.

           

Softer than velvet, smoother than silk.

           

How fast everything had changed

           

Grey

           

How bad would it be to give in? To let him- take me, would it hurt? Well I knew it would hurt, how bad would it hurt, would I still be me?

           

Would I ever be able to go home?

           

Would home ever be home again?

           

Chocolate brown eyes flecked with gold, darkened with lust, no love, looking down at me-

           

That first night, how Grey had lit all those candles, had made up the bed with white silk sheets, the champagne and chocolate.  How he knew sour patch kids were my favorite candy and how he had them there in a cut glass bowl on the nightstand.  How I had cried. All the names I had called him, how patient he had been with me, how patient he was still being. Four weeks he had slept on the floor, three weeks I had built a pillow wall between us and now, with me slipping in and out of bed when he was asleep, the names I still called him.

           

How I wanted this to be over.

           

How afraid I was to give up.

           

“Alex” I looked up.  Everyone had left the table, only Grey and I remained.  “I don’t want to pressure you, I’ve tried to be patient-” he looked pained, his pupils were huge.  I was still hard.  I realized I really really wanted something inside me.  Odd, I'd never felt that way before.  Hell a little over three months ago I'd thought I was straighter than a ruler. “But the elders want a date, one before the end of the month.”

           

The feeling faded, I didn’t like being scheduled.

           

“But that's in like 10 days.”  Articulate as always.

           

“Yes I know,” Of course he knew “But, Alex, it's been months, that's unheard of.” he leaned forward across the table.

           

“But 10 days is really short! I really don't-”

           

“Alex, I can feel how much you want me, smell it,” he blinked “what have you been doing? I’ve never felt that from you before-” His voice got lower, almost a growl.  His hand brushed my knee, I was sitting on my heels and couldn’t move, I felt trapped.

           

“Watching the unicorn bulls,” I breathed, completely entranced “they almost killed Trixie, I think it was my fault.” One of my hands slipped to palm my hardness, the other reached for Grey's cheek.   I swallowed hard.  How was this happening all the sudden, so fast.  I had held out for weeks now over breakfast I suddenly didn’t have any control? I didn’t even like Grey.  I didn’t even know him. 

           

“I want to be ready.” I whispered, “but I don’t want, I don’t want, I don’t want people to know when- that I've-” I pause not sure what I am trying to say.  “This is like an arranged marriage you know, actually this is exactly what this is.  I didn’t even know you, then I’m told I was promised- I’m 22, I thought I got to make my own choices you know?”  I don’t know what I am saying, He knows more about what is going on than I do.  I wish I had just gone through with it on the first night.  Now that I’ve waited it's become this big issue around the house, and even in this, whatever it is, secret creepy society, alternative reality whatever.  The Kid that Won't Put Out.  I bet that will be in the papers when I finally give it up. And that's exactly what I don’t want.  That why I’m still a fucking virgin.  Because I just ever wanted anyone to know anything about my sex life, solution, don’t have one.

           

I sniffle.  Like a little bitch I’m going to cry.  Even worse would be if dad could see “his little fag” now.  That's what he'd said when I’d been dragged off.  When they'd told him about Grey.

           

“Always knew he'd turn out to b e a fairy.  Goodbye little fag.” I'd always thought he'd liked me.  Never knew he was a homophone either.  But then again I'd never thought of myself as gay so, guess I was guess I was clueless on all parts.

           

“Alex are you okay?” God, could I focus for 10 minutes today?

           

“I guess.  Wish I’d let you fuck me first thing's all.” I mumbled.  I didn’t think I could blush any more without passing out.  When I glance up Grey looked pissed.  Great.  Now what?

           

“I don’t want to do- that- to you.  You are to be mine forever.  You are a gift.  Something special.” He stood and left before I could object to being called a gift and being referred to as a 'something'.  As days went today was even more fucked than most I had spent in this huge house, and it was still before 10am.

           

I stood on legs that had long since fallen asleep and trudged to the bathroom to shower.

           

The warm water reminded me of the tingle that still spread through y body.  I gently stroked my hands down my body to the part of me that wanted their touch the most, it quickly became apparent a gentle touch was not going to be enough.  I slicked my fingers with rosemary mint shampoo and slid on into my hole.  The cold tingle was startling, but still not quite enough.  I groaned in frustration.  I knelt on the shower floor not wanting to slip on the suds and be found unconscious in such a compromising position and added a finger, better. I gasped, my hips thrust back against my hand involuntarily, but this forced my hand back too.  I needed something sturdier.  Someone sturdier.  I was almost crying with need.  I scraped my thighs with my other hand and tried to inch my finger into my channel to reach my hidden trigger point, but I couldn't I was too tight, the angle was too awkward.  I lay on the floor of the shower and sobbed, hips jerking spasmodically, one hand still fisting my shaft the other trying to find that magical button deep inside, nothing would scratch the itch.  Slowly the water began to cool.  Even a house this large had a limited supply of hot water.

           

I think I fell asleep, I think because I never would have imagined it would be possible to fall asleep while that uncomfortable, but somehow I found myself waking up freezing.  I shut off the water and wrapped myself in a microfiber robe.  I shivered and crawled into bed.  It smelled like Grey, but I was too tired and cold to care.  For the moment the tingle was banished, I hoped I could restart the day on a better note.

 

           

There was something deliciously warm against my cheek, against my chest, brushing against my hair, between my knees.  I felt safe and warm, cradled.  Rested.  I hadn't slept well in weeks and here I was-

           

My eyes snapped open.  Grey.  I was sleeping on Grey.  Drooling on him too.  I tried to discretely wipe my cheek and his shoulder.

           

“You were shivering.” Fuck, he was awake too.

           

“Mmm” I said, I usually woke suddenly, but Grey didn't have to know that.

           

“Alex, why were you in the shower for 2 hours?” Fuck, no such luck on the second waking thing.

           

“Mmm” I said again, and turned over.  Unfortunately Grey was not fooled.

           

“Alex, talk to me.  Something's up with you today, are you sick?” I sat up and pushed my hair back from my face, it was time for a cut.

           

“I think I maybe touched an iguana.”

           

“So?”

           

“One of Carol's special ones” I added.  I couldn’t look at him.  What sort of idiot touches something they know is poison? This one apparently.

           

“You think you touched one, or you did?” Great now he sounded concerned.  I had hoped for some reassurance that they weren’t really that bad for people, just unicorn cows.

           

“Well- I petted its head, but just for a sec.  And I feel fine now.”

           

“Alex, “ I looked away “Alex” he took my chin in his hand and make me look at him, “you really, really should ask Carol what you should do.”

           

Grey's eyes should have been illegal they were so beautifully perfect.  He smelled perfect too.  I leaned into his hand.

           

“Good idea.” Grey exhaled.  Even his breath smelled perfect.  I leaned in more and licked his bottom lip.  He tasted- perfect.  He gasped and let go of my face.  I crawled across his legs to straddle his hips ignoring the fact that I wore only and unbelted robe and he only wore some very brief silk boxers, even better.  I had to have more.  I sucked his bottom lip, nibbled the corners.  I tickled his sides and ground my bare skin against his silk covered length

           

Smoother than silk, softer than velvet.

           

I couldn’t wait.  I pushed him back against the headboard, he gasped and I licked the roof of his mouth.  More perfect.  I was filled with urgency.  I wanted everything now, worse than the shower.  I didn’t know if I would survive if he said no.  So he couldn’t talk.  I ground myself harder against him.  If felt good, almost too good, but I needed more.  I was whimpering half formed please.  Grey was saying something as I kissed my way from his mouth to his ear to his neck, but I couldn’t listen.  I was dripping, I would feel the slick liquid sliding down my thighs, my hole was twitching, I could feel the air trying to get in.  I had never wanted something as I wanted Grey inside me now.  I felt so open already, like he would slide right in, quiet the tingl8ing.  I didn’t even really want to cum, I just wanted to be calm.

           

I kissed my way down Grey's golden chest, down his perfect abs, flexing with every twirl of my tongue, again he was talking, but I was too focused on my goal to pay any attention to his words.

           

His hand threaded through my hair, sweat making them sticky.  He griped hard and some strands came out as I continued toward my prize.  If felt perfect.  My breathing was harsh, but every labored inhale brought with it the must of Grey's arousal; soon, soon I would be okay.

           

Grey's boxers were gray.  I smiled briefly in my head before I reached for my prize.  It was beautiful.  Red and angry, throbbing and hot.  It was bigger than what I had imagined, a lot bigger than me.  I had a sudden flash of fear, what if it broke me> But the need was too great for me to dwell too long, who cared if it did, I would still feel better, and it was beautiful, perfect. 

           

I licked it.  Sweet and salty and perfect and Grey.  A chill raced up my spine followed closely by a rush of heat I thought I was going to pass out.  It was too much; I took another lick, so perfect.  It really was smoother than silk, softer than velvet.  But so, so hard.  I opened my mouth as wide as I could and took it in.  I was lost.  How could anyone function in society after they had tried this? It was so-

           

Grey yelled something.  Forced my head up, away from him, shook me, made me focus.

           

Those eyes.

           

“Alex!” I panted at him.  One of his thumbs brushed over my lips, I licked it, almost as perfect as- he shook me again.  “Alex! You have to stop!” Stop? I knew that word.  I couldn’t stop, I had to, I couldn't the itch was still there- tears gathered in my eyes.

           

“Please please please it hurts please I have to let me please” I begged, I reached for him again.

           

“Alex! This isn't you, you'll hate me!” now Grey looked close to tears.  I didn’t want him to be sad but I couldn’t- I was so close, I had to- I choked on my sobs, when Grey let go of my hair I immediately went back to worshiping the beauty that was his cock.  I couldn’t let it go.  He couldn’t pull me away again though he tried.  But even as perfect as Grey tasted and felt in my mouth, the tingle still worsened.  I lifted my head.

           

“In me now.” I was amazed how calm I sounded.  How in control.  I didn’t feel either, my hips flexed, my thighs trembled, my hole twitched.  Grey looked conflicted.  “Please” I added.

           

“I don’t have any lube, Christ, Alex you're a virgin, I can't just-” I flipped onto my back and opened my legs.

           

“I need it, it hurts with you outside, please, please!” Tears were gathering in my eyes again, I was so close, he couldn’t say no now.  I closed my eyes so the brush of stubble and the smooth wet stroke of tongue on my tightly furled hole were a surprise.  I howled.  Grey held my hips in a vice grip and licked all around my ole.  I thought I was going to die.  I could feel tiny fibers in my hips tearing as I strained against Grey's hands to get closer.  Black spots danced in front of my eyes.  I would have screamed but I couldn’t breathe.  My lungs burned with the effort of getting enough air to keep from passing out.  When Grey finally entered me with his tongue my whole body bowed off the bed.  My nails were broken and bleeding from clawing at the bed and headboard but the sting was lost in the need to have Grey in me.

           

“Now now now!”  I chanted with each labored exhalation, and finally, finally Grey crawled over me and sank down onto elbows looking into my eyes. 

           

“A precious gift,” he whispered, and kissed me.  One hand disappeared to guide his formidable member into me but the other stroked my sweat soaked hair from my face. 

“Relax sweet Alex,” he whispered, “breathe out” when I did the head slipped in and every muscle in my body seized up.  Dear God it hurt.  Tears streamed from my face, but I already felt calmer.  When I could breathe I realized it was a good hurt and deep, deep stretch, but nothing was damaged.  I opened my eyes and saw Grey had tears in his own beautiful, perfect eyes.

           

“I promised myself I wouldn't hurt you.” He whispered when he saw the question in mine.  He trembled but did nothing to hide his tears from me.  Already the burn was fading.  I brushed water away from his cheeks leaving a steak of my blood on his cheek.

           

“It was worse before, this is relief,” a strange emotion flashed through his liquid eyes, but it was gone before I could identify it.

           

I wiggled a bit, it still hurt, but the tingle was worse than the pain.

           

“Deeper please.” Grey obliged me.  It felt like he was pushing my hips out of joint and my organs out my mouth, but it was the most perfect feeling in the world.  When he whispered he was all the way in, I felt like the most treasured thing in the whole world, so intense was the admiration in his voice.

           

“No one has ever done that for me before,” he whispered.

           

“Me either,” I whispered back.  He laughed and I blushed when I realized what I had said.  I always sounded more stupid out loud than I did in my head.  Why was that?

           

“I never want to leave your body,” Grey added, still whispering, I nodded.  It felt too perfect for more words.  Why had I waited 22 years for this?

           

Grey began to rock gently back and forth, cradling my head and back in his huge hands.  It would have been soothing if it hadn’t been the most stimulating, intense thing I had ever felt.  Every time he shifted he brushed every sensitive part inside and outside of me, sending sparks of pleasure all over my body.  It was too intense to feel good really, but all the same I wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

           

I came suddenly.  I had forgotten completely about orgasms.  I was feeling safe and perfect and completely over stimulated and suddenly liquid heat broke over my me and drenched me, leaving our chest dotted with streams of my cum.  My orgasm lasted longer than any other I had experienced, and longer than my ejaculation, long after the streams of liquid stopped muscled in my whole body contracted in slow waves leaving me breathless and exhausted. 

           

I lay against the pillows, completely limp and sated as Grey's thrusts became erratic and he flooded me. The warm torrent caused one more long drawn out spasm in my channel, leaving me completely unable to move.  Grey sighed contentedly and rolled so I sprawled across his chest, still connected.  I embarrassed myself yet again by breaking into sobs.  Grey hummed and petted my hair.  For the third time I fell asleep to begin the day anew.

           

“I thought you might be hungry” the noodles and veggies on the trey looked and smelled delicious.  I'd eaten half before I’d stopped to think.  Oh my God.  What had I done?

           

“Grey-” I began.

           

“Alex there's nothing to be-

           

“Grey I was screaming! Everyone will have heard!” Never mind what I had done, oh my God, how was I supposed to eat when I'd had Grey's- well- in my mouth. I looked down at the noodles; they suddenly didn’t seem as good.  I became aware of the wicked assortment of ached and pains.  And worst of all the dull tickle deep inside-

           

“Alex, really they understand, its and natural part of life.  They will be happy for us-” I scrambled out of bed, my hips hurt, really hurt really hurt, almost as much as- I could feel my cheeks flaming. Flaming. I banged open the closet. The Closet.

           

I felt a trickle down my leg, milky white, just a bit viscous- ew ew ew ew.  I stood as still as I could and clenched my cheeks together as hard as I could.  Damn that hurt.  Everything hurt.

           

“Alex?” He sounded hurt.  Well I hurt.  I had to find some fucking clothes.  I pulled on some blue boxers that probably weren’t mine and some jeans, but I couldn’t do the zipper with my destroyed fingernails.  Why had he let me do that to myself? I threw them down and suppressed and shriek.  Now was not the time for a temper tantrum.  I grabbed some sweats and a tee and stomped out of the room.  Time to find Carol.  Maybe she could find some way to fix this.

Charcoal Pt. 4

Soul woke early the next morning, he was excited to show his art, even if the pieces weren’t what he was driven to create, he knew they were good. Even better he knew that Scott wouldn’t have anything to show, and if he did, it couldn’t be as good as what Soul had.

“Welcome to class, I hope you all checked the website and found your first assignment.”  Professor White walked into class talking.  It was early enough in the day that the students stopped talking quickly after he began speaking.  Soul was busily setting up his drawings.  Some of the earlier ones were stubbornly sticking to their rolled shapes and he was working on clipping them to his easel.  He was so attentive to his task that he missed Scott hurrying into class moments late, but with portfolio case in hand. 

“I know some of you had trouble drawing something on command last week- I am very interested how you incorporated that into your project.  While I walk around I would like you to sketch something that reminds you of home. It can be something that you have with you, or something from memory.”  The professor walked as he talked, so as he finished his pronouncement he smoothly transitioned into speaking with the first student. 

“How did you use your daisies in your pictures?” Soul looked up, startled.  Scott's cheeks were a bit flushed, but other than that he looked fine.  He didn’t look like he had been up all night trying to finish an impossible process, he didn’t even look stressed. 

“How did you even finish?” Soul retaliated.  He pushed his hair out of his face and began to think of the project.  Something that reminded him of home.  There was Michelle and David, but the longer he was away from them the less they seemed like friends, and the less his house seemed like home.  In fact the longer he was away from his house the less connected to anything he felt.  Home was safe, or he had thought it was, he had thought he had friends, but now- nothing was as certain.  Even the thing he was best at seemed to come and go.  He didn’t stand out, even as the awkward quiet kid. He was surrounded by talented people, talented people who had overcome things far worse than shyness.  Soul had lost his niche, and had no way to deal with it.

“Well, I did what I had to do.”  Soul rubbed his eyes.  He had gotten a good night sleep, even after Jon had made him question his hatred of Scott.  He hated him.  Scott was terrible.  Soul didn’t have to have a reason, the guy was basically a stalker, and he was a morning person.  “It wasn’t too bad.  I don’t like to draw from memory, but I found some photos.  They aren’t as good as they could have been of course, but I’m hoping Prof White will give me a break since it's the first project.”  Scott wouldn't be bad to draw either.  If he wasn’t such a terrible person.  Soul considered.  If he had to learn to draw things from observation the angles in Scott's face might be fun to play with, then he shook his head.  He must need more sleep if he was considering drawing such an obnoxious person. Immortalizing that infuriating face would be a sin for sure.

“Well boys, how did you fare?”  The boys had been quietly watching each other for longer than either realized.  Long enough for the professor to go through half the class to get to them.  “Soul, no sketch, I thought we went over this last week.  There will come a time when we will do projects entirely in class; you cannot just wait for the mood to strike you.  The life of an artist is especially hard.  The lucky ones often work on commission and that means deadlines.”  Soul blushed and looked for a sketchbook.  He had never followed directions well, or particularly cared to, but now, with this professor, and with Scott watching, he really didn’t want to look like an idiot.  And the more he didn’t want to look stupid the worse he seemed to act.

When Soul looked back Professor White was paging through his drawings with an unreadable expression on his face. 

“How did you feel when you were working on these?”  Soul shrugged and began digging for a pencil.

“I wanted to draw them at the time, then when I was done I didn’t feel strongly either way.  I know they aren’t bad pictures, but I don’t really feel a connection to them.  Most of the things I draw I feel almost- compelled to redraw, or rework in some way, these I was just done with.”

“Mmm” The professor nodded and ran a hand through his graying hair.  “How did you get the inspiration?”  His voice sounded flat.  It was such a contrast from the excitement and joy that was the flavored his rich tenor usually, that Soul felt that he had somehow disappointed him.  Suddenly Soul felt tears threatening.  He had worked hard to finish the assignment, to find some way to fit flowers into his usually angular dark style. 

“I don’t know.  I just really didn’t want to mess up the assignment.”  Soul had more to say, but his voice was threatening to crack and Scott was right there. 

“Yes, but, how did you get the idea to use them in these ways.” Professor White gestured to the various interpretations of petals.  Finally settling on one in which the petals were made of tangled eyelashes.  The center a tear filled eye. Soul wrapped his arms around his body and shrugged. 

“I don’t know.  I’m telling you.  I just drew what came into my mind.  Why does it even matter?”  The professor’s eyes grew colder.  He looked right into Soul's eyes. 

“It matters more than you know.  Maybe more than you will ever know.”  He then seemed to gather himself and turned to Scott's pictures. 

“I see you used some color.”  Scott nodded and smiled.  Soul frowned.  It didn’t seem like Scott could get a bad critique from anyone. 

“I used some color in some of the other ones too, I know it wasn’t required, but I though since we are doing a collection it would add some continuity.”  Professor White nodded again thoughtfully and began to page through the rest of Scott’s drawings.  Scott continued, “The light was so beautiful I couldn’t help it, the sun was setting through the trees and I knew without color I wouldn’t be able to do the scene justice.  I hope I didn’t overstep-” The professor shook his head and went on flipping through the pictures until Scott stopped him, pointing at one of the pieces. 

“This one’s my favorite.  I usually can’t draw without the subject in front of me, but I think this expression will stay with me for my whole life.”   The professor nodded in seeming sympathy. 

“This is really a good piece of work Scott.  Not what I would have expected going from your sketch last week.  I’m glad this is the direction you’ve taken.”  Scott blushed and nodded.  Soul couldn’t take it anymore.  He knew he was the subject of the drawings, and if he could see what it was, what was getting all the praise in the whole class maybe he could figure out what the professor wanted from him.

The picture was of Soul; it was of him sitting in the library, in the window seat.  It was as if a photo had been taken just as Soul discovered Scott sitting sketching him.  But what made the picture extraordinary was the expression on Soul’s face.  It was a mixture of surprise and indignation, relief and anxiety.   It was amazing that such a young artist was able to capture such an expression and render it so perfectly. 

Soul could not remember feeling anything but irritation when he discovered Scott sketching him, but the drawing was so perfect- there was no way that anyone could have worked that complex of an expression onto a face that had never worn it. 

“What are you doing?” Soul looked up into the cold eyes of his professor.

“I wanted to see what all the hype was about.  I figured if this miraculous picture was of me that I should get to see it.” It was the wrong thing to say, and Soul knew it the second the words were out of his mouth.  “So sorry.”  He hurried back to his side of the easels and picked up his pencil and sketchbook. 

The problem was he still didn’t know what to draw.  He didn’t know what home was.  The longer he was at school the more disconnected he felt from everything.  He had thought he had friends, but the more he was around school and people that were really friends; the more he realized that David and Michelle were never his friends.  He wondered what they really thought of him.  Soul had never been especially close with his parents.  Or with anything.  He was too worried about being a loner-tortured artist to be attached to anything but his art.  Nothing was home but drawing.  And that was just too much of a cliché for Soul to draw.

“Soul.”  He looked up.  Lost in his thoughts, but not enough to not regret his words, and be scared shitless of the professor looking down at him.  “Stay after class.”  Soul found that even though he was older, the words that were terrifying in middle school held just as much horror in college.  Fighting the butterflies and bats that threatened to climb from his mouth Soul forced him to draw something that could be interpreted as home.  He got as far as a kitchen with a faceless mother baking a birthday cake when the rest of the class began packing up their materials.

“Don’t forget to check my website” Professor White called from his own easel at the front of the room.  Soul shuddered.  This was supposed to be his safe class.  And instead it was turning out to be worse than math. 

“Hey, don’t worry so much.”  Scott was taking extra long to pack up.  “Do you want to get coffee or something later?”  Soul couldn’t believe his ears.  It was good he hadn’t eaten breakfast because the butterflies would have made themselves seen in ways that were not the regal colors of monarch and blue butterflies-

“I don’t know what you mean.”  Scott sighed, and Professor White, who had somehow snuck up on them laughed. 

“Silly boy, it couldn’t possibly be that easy.  Now go, we won’t be long.”  And with that Scott left and Professor White turned to Soul. 

“You must be feeling a bit lost right now.”  Soul opened his mouth to speak, but Professor cut off his words with a simple raised hand.  “None of what I tell you is going to make sense.  But I hope in time you will come to accept it.”  The professor leaned against the wall and crossed his ankles.  It was the most surreal thing Soul had ever experienced.  He sat up straighter on his stool and prepared to be told he was adopted, or that Scott was his long lost evil twin.  Or that White was his grandfather.  He was nowhere near the words that came out of the professor’s mouth.

***

Sorry for taking so long to write, I lost track of the weekends, traveled and generally didn't write anything.  But I have already begun writing the next part (no more cliffie horray) and I think I know now where I want this story to go, but that is subject to change.  Please commpent whatever!

Lilly