.: to build a home :: anzie :.

I didn’t want him to leave- I wanted him to stay. It was odd, but I didn’t want to be alone. I have been alone for so long, always departing my friends to wander home to a place that was cold, that was empty that was lonely. Being alone never used to annoy me, I used to live with it, I used to be able to go home and transform it into a place of cold loneliness to a place that was warm and friendly- but lately it has become that much harder… I only wish that I could bring my brother home, I only wish that another body filled the empty space, made me feel as though I wasn’t the only person in this world. But I knew that was too much to ask for- I had escaped my parents, I had made sure that my brother was safe- happy almost… I have had my fair share

My eyes watch the small creases in my hands, as I run my fingertips along the small indents. It was interesting, out of all the places on one’s body, hands were the most interesting- to me anyway. I was intrigued by how they moved, the amount of flexibility that they beheld. The way that they could rotate, twist and turn, it was all just so fascinating. My eyes trail the creases formed as I bend my fingers, extending them to touch the palm of my hand. Did the skin have to be tough? Strong? It would have to be… Suddenly I have the urge to study the hands of the boy in front of me- of Lachlan. I wanted to see the way the creases twisted and turn webbing out around the palm of him hand. I wanted to feel his skin- would it be soft? Or would they be hard and callused?

I drag my eyes away from my hand, to find Lachlan crouched down in front of me. His eyes flashed with concern and it strikes me as strange. Why was this boy concerned for me? He barely knew me, for all he knew I could be a serial killer. But I don’t say anything, I just drop my gaze to is hands, one which was outstretched- as though to catch me when I had fell. "I still have to fix your feet. And, well, I should have guessed. Nobody's parents are normal or nice anymore. I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that home is a bad place for you right now, so we can go somewhere else. The morgue's always open - or at least, nobody's there to guard the entrance." But I wasn’t listening to his words; they only seemed distant and dull in my ears.

I was no longer connected to this world; I was lost in this world of my own, with this desire- strong desire- to explore the skin of his hand. Unconsciously my hand reaches out, closing around Lachlan’s outstretched hand. Often this happened. Often when I was so fascinated by something, I lost connection to the real world, lost in the desire that over comes me. But I was not sure why I was obsessed with hands, and skin- this was something new. My fingers come in contact with his skin and I pull his hand closer, my eyes studying the way the creases engraved in his skin slithered across his palm. My eyes narrow as I run my fingertips across them, tracing the outline, as soft as a feather. My head tilts to the side slightly, my fingers exploring the skin. It was soft in the palms, but rough around the edges, small calluses making home on his pale skin.

It was captivating. Opening up my hand, I tuck one beneath his, my other hand opening up and coming to a rest on his, so that our palms aligned. My fingers only reach halfway up his hand, and I smile to myself. I have always had small hands- the hands of my mother. A frown slices across my face for the briefest moment, before it is gone, the small smile playing at the edges of my lips.

Then I am coming back to my senses, my head clearing, my thoughts no longer consumed with the thought of Lachlan’s hands. I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. Then I realise that my hands still enclose Lachlan’s and I let them go in a rush, almost thrusting his hands away from me, my face flushing a deep red. “I- uh- sorry. Sometimes I just get these over powering desires to do things that seem odd, I don’t know what just happened, I am so sorry- what were you saying?” I push my mind to think back to what he had been saying, trying to catch some words that had slipped from his lips. Leave. Somewhere else. Morgue. I frown. I didn’t want him to leave, and no way in hell did I want to go to a morgue- surrounded by dead people who have been cut up and played with.

“Uh a morgue? With dead people? Well that sounds like some sort of adventure, one that I would like to avoid,” I try and joke, my lips turning up slightly at the corners of my lips. “We can just go to my place, its fine really. I am fine- and plus its just around the corner here.”

I tell him we can go to my home- and I mean it strangely enough. Sure I wasn’t exactly comfortable- him being a stranger and all… But to be honest what was the worst he could do- what was worse than the things that I had gone through? I have had my heart- my soul- broken countless times now, this boy would be nothing compared to what I have gone through, I knew, deep down I knew it. But also deep down I knew- really knew- that this boy, that Lachlan didn’t want to hurt me, he wanted to help. If he had wanted to hurt me wouldn’t he have done it by now? He has had lots of chances, but yet he has done nothing but help. He helped me when no one else was around, he held me when I was down and now he sat beside me, putting up with my weird habits.

But why? Why pt up with me? My dark eyebrows knit into a frown slightly as I look up at Lachlan again. He was a handsome boy, one that took my breath away. I could feel the small smile slip past the guard of my lips as I stared at him, my dark gaze sliding down his body. His hair was dark, and muscles hugged his arms tightly. Dark and handsome. That’s what my friends tell me, those who are dark and handsome are the ones who are mysterious, the ones who keep you guessing, the ones that catch them, that drag them into their traps making it hard for them to escape. But looking at Lachlan now I don’t feel that urge, that feeling of being trapped. I felt… comfortable.

Surprise filled me as I realise that that was how I felt. I didn’t feel like I had to shy away from him, I didn’t feel like I had to avert my gaze because I was out of his league- no. I felt comfortable, slightly confident even. Is this how they felt- each and every time- they flirt and talk with the opposite gender? Do they feel like they have the power? Do they feel this comfortable? So many questions raced through my mind. Was I supposed to feel like this? Talking to the opposite sex - talking other people out of my friend group- hasn’t really been a strong point for me… But here, now, I felt somewhat at ease.

"Are you sure?" His voice seems to break as the words fall from his lips, as though he was trying to swallow something that had gotten caught in his throat and I can’t help but let the smile on my lips grow slightly. "Are you sure?" He tries again, this time the words coming out smooth and fluently- but still a little off tone. It was odd, and I couldn’t help but think he was a little nervous… But why would he be nervous? It must just be my imagination, I reason letting my narrow shoulders fall into a light shrug. His coat that sat on my shoulders slipped down a bit, and my shoulder was exposed to the frosty air of the night around me. With a small shivers I hastily tug the coat up and over the bare skin of my shoulder, my hands snaking around my body, holding myself tightly.

It wasn’t until now I actually realised how cold it was out here, my legs were almost numb, the frosty wind bitting away at the bare skin. Gentle I remove one of the hands that held me tightly and rubbed the chilled skin of my legs, instantly the skin warms and I feel as though I am an ice block melting away into a pool of chilled water. "We can try sneaking into an empty house if you don't want the morgue or your home." When I turn to face him this time, he is not kneeling in front of me, but actually sitting, his butt flat on the ground. It was almost as if he was prepared to wait for me, to stay here until I made the right decision. Something inside me stirs and I cannot help but feel a surge of gratitude slip through me, warming me from the inside out. I am no longer rubbing the cold skin of my leg- there is no need, because I am no longer cold.

“I- I honestly don’t mind, really…” But my words come out barely in a whisper as I watch Lachlan reached up and places a hand on his head, as his arm moves the muscles that hugged them snuggles rippled to and the words on my lips died. He really was handsome… Shaking my head I try to push the thoughts of his good looks from my mind- I didn’t need fluffy stuff lie that clouding my head, not now. "You feel up to standing?"

I did feel like standing up. Ducking my head and averting my eyes from his, I place my hands beside me, my body preparing itself to be lifted off the ground, my feet readying themselves for the sharp burst of pain that would flower through me- staring at my feet, before climbing my legs like vines, before entwining the strings of my heart. But then I pause and tilt y head to the side slightly in question. I didn’t have to do this by myself, Lachlan would help. The smile on my lps grew until it reached my eyes- something that seemed to foreign on my face. How long had it been since I had actually smiled? Not just smiled, that forced smile, just to please the people who are close to me? How long?

I didn’t know, but at the moment I didn’t really care because it felt nice, natural even. Giving it one more tester I let the smile stay on my face, lighting up the dull features of my face. Then my dark chocolate eyes are looking at Lachlan again, but instead of that haunted look hiding within them, they were alight, dancing with life, something that I had thought to have died a long time ago.

“Wanna be a gentleman- and help me up,” I ask and swing my arms out in front of me, waiting for Lachlan to grab hold. I smile at him again, “And its fine, my place will be perfect.”

My arms only hover in the air by themselves for a moment, the cold air of the night wrapping its cold arms around the shelter skin of my arms. I don’t feel it tho, not through the warmth of Lachlan’s Jacket, not through the warmth of his hands in mine as he lifts my body from the ground like a dead weight. A smile was painted across the stern features of his face, making it softer, welcoming and I cannot help but allow my smile to grow, my teeth peeking out from beneath the pink flesh of my lips. His fingers were entwined with my own, catching each of my fingers between his and I could feel the heat in my cheeks flare up slightly. But I tried to brush it away, trying to allow my face to fall the nice soft white it usually is.

He murmurs something I cannot quite hear as he pulls me from the ground and into the warmth of his arms where he holds me close for a moment or two, his arms enclosing me, trapping me in the smell of him. I don’t mind, actually I like it. I like the way he hold me tight, secure against the sturdy frame of his body. I have only known him for a little while but already I was starting to feel my nervousness fade and a sense of confidence replacing it. I pull my arms awy from his hands and wrap them around his waist for a moment- but then realise what I am doing and try to push away hastily, my face painted with embarrassment.

What was I doing? Yes I felt comfortable around him- but we still didn’t know much about each other, and hugging him? wasn’t that a bit weird? What if he thought I was a creep or some clingy girl who wanted something from him, something more than a hug? I try to stand on my own feet, but reach out hesitantly with one hand to lean on his shoulder, pulling a bit of the weight off my feet. “Uh, sorry, I yeah…” I stumble, my words not making any sense as they slip from my lips. My eyes are no longer looking at his face but at the dark material of the stone beneath my shredded feet. “My house. Right.” I correct myself, making myself breath, trying to make the pounding of my heart slow down so that I could think straight. Come on now Odessa. Just stop. Take a deep breath in, and hold. Then let it out. And I do.

I take in a deep breathe, holding it for a moment or two before letting it escape. “My home is this way,” I tell him, lifting my arm that was not holding onto him in the direction that I had come up from earlier this night. “It’s only a five minute walk,” I reassure him- well, myself- as my eyes turn down the empty street, to study the cool cobble stone, to watch the windy cracks wind their way up and down along the cold cement, to watch the dancing light of the moon as clouds swayed back and forth cause the light to dance around.

I peel my eyes away from the dancing lights and look at Lachlan once again, my eyes still alight with a life that had been void from them for as long as I could remember, “you ready? The place is not big, or fancy or anything, and is a bit messy, so don’t judge me,” I tease, “But it should do. I have some tweezers, and I don’t know if my feet will need stitched, but I think that would be able to wait to the morning,” I say, moving to stumble down the street, Lachlan at my side. It felt nice. Nice to have someone I didn’t particularly know at my side, but also to have his strength as I wandered to a place where I have lived for years, empty and alone always a reminder of the demons that lurk behind my eyes. I turn to smile at him once more and find myself wondering how easy it was to allow my face to split in a sigh of happiness, something that I had found hard to do for years, so easily it came to me when I was around him. Even in just a few hours my life seems to be changing in ways that I had never dreamed of… And I liked it.