by Cinters
Because he knows Wayne is awake at 4am. Because Sony can’t find rest during the dark hours of night either. Hours of nighttime that give back the calming silence stolen by the day. Because he knows Wayne may be at his lowest at that time and is thankful for every little company that keeps his mind tied to reality, even if the thread may be thin and the shape of Sony. Because he knows Wayne. What Sony probably doesn’t know is that Wayne would prefer any thread if it even remotely resembled his friend who he grew to share moments with that feel like an exclusive entity which exists only between the two of them, a beautiful ensemble of chaos and neatly tucked away suffering only they share. ~ The unsettled ocean on my way there, my diving gear damaged and me being an inexperienced diver, my diving instructor nowhere to be found. So I turn around, swim and try to pull myself back up, but can’t fully breach the water surface. I either end up hurting myself or remain floating in the body of water with resignation. ~ “Why?” Sony asks, an ounce of startle painting his face laced with golden skin. “The ocean is beautiful. It is so very deep, full of vibrant and various life, you can float around all the time and there is still so much more to discover. When shit goes down you can just dip underwater and all you hear is the ‘blubb… blubb’ from the fishies” Sony blows his cheeks and crosses his eyes, opening and closing his mouth like a blobfish. “Or woOaAhh woooaaAhh” he continues, very possibly imitating a whale. Wayne snorts and shoves him by the shoulder. “You’re an idiot” he mumbles amused and can’t help the refreshing sound play of his friend pulling up the corners of his mouth into a smirk. Sony shifts back into his former position after being shoved by Wayne, rubbing his shoulder and pulling a face in a dramatic and exaggerated way before his gaze softens. Bending to rest his chin on his arms folded above the bridge’s railing, he murmurs, barely audible: “Also, earth is shit. And degenerating. So why not aim for the ocean.” Instead of engaging further in their teasing by telling Sony that if earth is degenerating the oceans will inevitably do the same, Wayne thinks about how only 5% of the ocean are said to be discovered yet, and how prettily and lightly Sony just turned Wayne’s defeatist outlook on the way he’s living his life to a direction that might have hope at the end of its path with gentle hands. In his periphery vision, Wayne sees Sony turning his head from the bridge’s railing to face him and hold out his hand with the package of nuts into the direction of Wayne’s face. The younger thinks about it but shakes his head with a reluctant noise. Sony takes Wayne’s hand with a playful scoff, opens it to place some nuts in the cup of human skin and close it more slowly before turning his focus back to the waves. Wayne tries to ignore the emerging butterflies in his gut and the tingling of their tiny wings that have no business being there in the first place. Instead, he stares down at the nuts in his hand and then at sunrays dancing on the tousling waves of the river and while his mind goes Sony, thank you for saying this, thank you for showing me new parts of the ocean and repairing my diving gear little by little. And I tried not to, Sony. I tried so hard-he just breathes in deeply, breaks down all of these racing thoughts into three words, not the three words he actually burns to say so much he thinks he might die, and says “Yeah. I guess.”
© Cinters 2023-08-12