Philosophical Ponderings [For ofthecubs]

[faithfulclublet]

It's midday, but Andrew is curled up in the corner of his couch with the lights in his room all off, hands pressed unconsciously against the sides of his head as though he's trying to squeeze the thoughts currently sending him into this moment of too-intense contemplation out of his brain.

Really, his mind is always running in a way that leads him to this sort of tailspin, but usually he's able to keep it at bay through work or distracting himself by spending time with Argine or training with Edgar or talking poetry with his cousin. Sometimes, though, there are flare-ups, and nothing's really able to stop him from falling into the trap that is his own head.

There are, however, certain things-- or people-- that are able to pull him out again.

Comments

[faithfulclublet]

"Something-- not think-y. Please."

Some days, it's better to talk it out, free the thoughts from his mind and let someone not so caught up in them try to make sense of it. Today, he thinks it might be better if he just tries to let them be.

[ofthecubs]

"I broke a guitar string today."

This is how Edgar lives. His mind isn't full of deep, pressing worries. They've grown, yes, and he's far more cognizant of political cares than he was before he could properly set his eyes King, but it turns off. He can just breathe.

He'd give anything to simply give Andrew the skill, but until then, he could babble. "Left a wicked welt mark. We're gonna have to make up a better story."

[faithfulclublet]

Babbling is probably the closest thing he can manage to giving his best friend the ability to just turn off the worries. Babbling about this, at least, gets Andrew's arms moving to rest his elbows against his knees, face still cupped in hands but closer now to Edgar. A little bit less screwed up in agonizing thought.

"--yeah? Thought 'f-- anything good yet?"

[ofthecubs]

It's a start. It's his friend not giving up, beginning to move closer to the world again, coming from being lost in himself. That's got Edgar smiling, hopefully in an encouraging manner, as he rolls up his sleeve a little--not an easy task while maintaining important physical contact.

"'m thinking pirates. Pirates sound flashy, right?"

If entirely illogical.

[faithfulclublet]

There's something almost like a snort of laughter, faint and shaky though it is.

"'re not even... near an ocean, Ed."

[ofthecubs]

"Which is how I got so blindsided."

Clearly, Andrew. Clearly. There's absolutely a spark of something like laughter in his words, his eyes, as he leans more comfortably on the other boy's leg. It's less to do with his brilliant pirate scheme and more to do with the fact they're actually talking.

"If we were on the high seas, I'd never have let them nick me this good-- 'cause I'd have been prepared, right?"

[faithfulclublet]

He shakes his head slightly, a hand finally dropping from the side of his face to catch at one of his best friend's and lift it so he can press his forehead against it. There's a faint hint at a smile that's touching his lips.

"Rach's right. You're ridiculous."

[ofthecubs]

That's good. That means he can scramble just a little closer, press his own forehead against Andrew's closer arm.

"Yeah, but you guys love me. So you're sorta ridiculous too."

[faithfulclublet]

"'s 'cause we like t'adopt lost causes," Andrew murmurs, before adding after a moment, "An' 'cause you're such a good friend."

The sort that will talk about things to get him distracted from his thoughts instead of going to get lunch.

[ofthecubs]

"Nah. I just do okay."

Now, hopefully, is the time to squirm his way up onto the couch, reach over and give Andrew's knees a proper hug, if not the young man himself.

"You guys are the good ones."

[faithfulclublet]

"Y'do great, Ed."

It'll be a proper hug. He'll need it, to banish the last of the heaviness of his thoughts from his mind. Burying his face against his best friend's shoulder helps him to breathe.

"An' we try."

[ofthecubs]

And there's real success. There's the mutual comfort of being clung to in a hug and being able to cling back to the oldest, best friend he knows. That takes a minute of just breathing before he bumps his head against Andrew's slightly, squeezes a little tighter.

"Love you."

[faithfulclublet]

He's smiling again at that. Really, properly smiling, and it's nice to be able to do after so many hours of being overwrought with distress over his general state of being.

"Love y'too, Ed."

[ofthecubs]

Unmitigated victory. There's nothing better.

"Don't-- forget that, nn? You're always acting like you're forgetting that."

Or, rather, often getting lost in himself, where people who loved him couldn't follow. What good is that?

[faithfulclublet]

"I don't," he murmurs with a huff of a sigh and an even tighter snuggle, "Promise. 't just gets-- buried under everythin' else, sometimes."

[ofthecubs]

"I know, Drew." Which is why they need moments like this. Pirate stories. Moments flopped together on the couch.

Important.

[faithfulclublet]

Incredibly so. He doesn't question that, even when he gets to the point of questioning everything else.

If there's one certainty in his life, it's that this bond is important. That without the other young man beside him, he'd be rudderless. That this is something to cling to when everything else is drowning him because this is what's going to be able to bring him back up into the air again.

He doesn't forget that.

[ofthecubs]

They need each other. That's the beauty of it. That's what's so perfect about these sort of moments, even though they come on the end of confusion and pain.

"Breathing?"

[faithfulclublet]

"Yeah," comes the mumble, half-muffled against Edgar's shoulder, "'m breathing."

It's a good feeling.

[ofthecubs]

"There's my guy." Breathing is such a good thing. Breathing doesn't always come natural, and then it's even more important, really. "Think maybe outside soon, or we need t' stick here for a bit?"

[faithfulclublet]

"Just... just a minute, mm?"

He won't need much more than that to finally get himself entirely sorted, finally lift his head from where it's been buried.

And then he can start to be coerced to go outside and actually eat something.

[ofthecubs]

"Many minutes as you want. Always."

So long as the minutes could involve Edgar's forehead pressed to Andrew's shoulder. So long as they were breathing in time.

[faithfulclublet]

"You're the best, Ed."

And he will, after only a few more minutes, straighten a little more properly so he can bump noses with his best friend.

"S'let's go eat, mm?"

[ofthecubs]

"'f you want."

So long as they went together. So long as, at least for a while, Edgar was allowed to keep an arm slung just a little tight around Andrew's shoulder, to keep babbling about pirates.

So long as they got to keep breathing the same breath.

[faithfulclublet]

"Mmhm. Better'n you complaining later on, mm?"

Because of course they're going to go together. Of course they're allowed to keep clinging, keep talking about things that don't mean much in the grand scheme of things but are still absolutely enjoyable now.

Of course they're allowed to breathe in tandem, keep relying on each other the same way the always have and always will.