we trip :: [bette/dustyn] :: on clouds

The trees were like fingers and toes, extensions of his own body. He'd grown up around them, dashing through them, weaving himself into them, climbing them and hiding from others, childish smiles lighting up his plump lips and his sweat drenched blonde hair like the actual sun was alive within him. Dustyn was nature, and nature was him. He would have chosen the dirt beneath his feet over any sterile training floors. The forests and mountains had no boundaries to him, nothing to restrict him. In the woods he was free from everything.

Well, not everything.

With age, most of the things in his childhood changed but they seemed to have a way of coming full circle and leaving him right back where he started. He had grown from a boy constantly awaiting his next adventure with the girl next door to a boy with a great circle of friends, then, a boy that yet again sat alone in his room and waited for a knock on the door or a sign from Bette Chautin, whose room happened to be perfectly aligned with his own. It seemed that everyone except the girl had accepted their fate together, had agreed with those that claimed they were already on the early track of marriage and children, on the verge of something extraordinary, and yet something so simple and so beautiful. He sat in his room then, lying on his back facing the ceiling, tossing a ball into the air and listening to his little brother scream at the tiny figurines he had pitted against one another in the next room. It was funny how even though everyone had an imagination, it was their imagination. It was unlike anyone else's and it was interested by different things than everyone.

As it happened, his brother, like the majority of the people in his life, had learned to love death, had already accepted that it would be his fate to grow up being trained to murder, and when the time came, get the deed done however many times it took until he was standing victorious in a pool of blood from souls lost so he could claim his own glory.

A loud burst of alarm sounded from his right, the door opening and a storm of blonde hair chasing the open space until her feet were lifted from the ground and she sailed right onto Dustyn's midsection. "Um, ow." He said with a smile for the newcomer. She quickly bounced off of him and smiled, perfectly thin lips making her face seem that much sweeter. "Come on already!" She urged quickly, hopping up and down on the end of his mattress until he stood and followed her out of the door.

The walk wasn't quiet, and he was glad for it. Bette was a language he was fluent in, a language he'd grown up learning. She was like second nature to him, and he was sure she felt the same about him. Just as soon as they were swallowed by a sea of green, she disappeared in the very same storm of curls she always did. "Come and find me!" she instructed, the same adventurous tone she had always captivated him with present. And, like always, he obeyed.

He knew her game, her strategies. Sometimes he could even pinpoint almost exactly where she was hiding, even go up to the exact spot with complete confidence that she was hidden there. "Bette? Where are you?" He called mockingly, his blue eyes wide with excitement and wonder. "Bette?" He rounded a tree to find nothing but a slight breeze. "Bette, hello?"

Her voice filled the air with the same beautiful tone the trees spoke with when the wind danced across them. "If I told you, you'd win the game," She called, but the game was already won. She was much closer than he realized, so he crouched down and lightened his steps, watched the ground for leaves and twigs to avoid stepping on them. He placed his hand on a tree and could hear her heavy breaths on just the other side. Slowly, he walked around. The girl was peering over her shoulder in the other direction, absolutely positive that he was still shooting in the dark.

A careless whisper that would have been taken if the wind had wanted it slipped from his lips, so careful, so calm. "Bette... I think I can hear your heart beating." Most would have expected a jump, and perhaps if it weren't Bette he would have too, but she only smiled when she turned to him. He reached out and touched her hand with his own, letting his fingers linger on the soft skin of her wrist a second longer before pulling away. "You're it, Chautin."

Her blush was real.

Though, if he were to call her out on it she would make up every excuse she could as to why it was there. He hated that she fought against what they were, against what they could be. He would have liked to think she was afraid of losing him like she had lost Holden, and like she was losing Roxanne. Though if you asked him, things with Bette were a lot easier with Holden gone, and anytime he had ever even considered Roxanne in a romantic way Bette became a livid fireball for whatever reason. But with Bette, everything was a game, and he was always going to be chasing after her. Countless times he had wondered what would happen the day he finally caught her, when she would finally be his. For a very, very long time, he hadn't even realized he had those kind of feelings for her, and for an even longer time, he had chosen to ignore them. But not anymore.

He was closer than ever to catching her, so close he could taste it. They would be together very, very soon."You're going down, pretty boy."

She started counting and the boy was off. His feet pushed the earth behind him, each step bringing him a bit further into the wilderness and even further into his sense of adventure. He hoisted himself into a tree, nestling in between the three large trunks that forked off in different directions and waited for the girl. Not too long after, he saw her. She stumbled around blindly, pleading sobs falling out of her lips in soft whispers.

"Just come back," she asked, and even though her back was facing him, he knew. There were tears in her eyes. His brows twisted in confusion. did she think he had left her? Surely she trusted him more than that, and even if she didn't, Bette knew these woods just as well as he did. No way she would have been afraid of navigating them herself.

He hopped down from his hiding place and she stumbled into him backwards, her eyes still trained on the forest around them. Other than the calls of birds returning for spring and the ever present sound of crickets chirping all around them, he couldn't see what she was so fixated on. He opened his mouth to speak, but she turned into him, her sobs growing a bit stronger. She acted like a ghost, or like he was one, because other than leaning against him, she hadn't made the slightest indication that he was there.

He wrapped his arms around her, the fear that something had hurt his best friend pricking his heart like a blade. "D-Dustyn," She whined, and he pulled her in tighter. "I'm right here," He promised, unsure of what else to say. "It's okay, You're okay..." Feeling her shaking form against him- it wasn't a feeling he wanted to get used to. Ever. He had been with her countless times when her eyes filled with tears and she broke into pieces, and every time a feeling rooted itself in his gut. Sort of like he had swallowed something alive and it was inside of him trying to claw it's way out.

"Bette? Are you..." His voice was shaking. A deep breath in, then out, then in again, and out once more. Be calm. He had to just be calm. For her. "Are you okay?" He asked, the question that had been gnawing on him a bit too long for him to handle.

Bette was a strong girl, probably stronger than Dustyn would ever be. Even as children it was always her that led their adventures. She would choose their characters, her a princess and him a prince, or a mermaid and a pirate, it was always something new. The only difference was that in their games, they lived happily ever after.

A memory flashed through his mind. He was standing next to Holden, both of them about twelve or thirteen. "I want to marry Bette." He had said. "Some day. Seriously." Dustyn nodded to him, but he could recall the burning in his heart as if it had only happened a few minutes ago. But even then, his lips did his bidding and hid how he felt with perfection. "You should, she's..." Holden had looked at him, those dark eyes of his lost in confusion. "She's what?"

"Perfect."

He had spoken the truth then and he had meant it. Anytime a girl took interest in him, anytime one tried to become his, he couldn't help comparing them to the curly haired girl with eyes like clear skies. The problem with that was that they were never really good enough. They were never her. He pulled away to get a look at her and wiped a tear from her pale cheek, then pulled her back into a tight embrace. "I'm right here." he whispered, and he always would be.

Always.

When they were fifteen, Dustyn begged the girl to go to the Spring Fling, and for whatever reason, she had declined. For whatever reason, she had chosen to go with Holden instead, which was fine, he had his own methods of making her feel like her heart couldn't go on beating anymore, so he did just that by taking Roxanne. The point wasn't that he wanted to hurt her as much as she had him, but rather that she ran away from him when he wanted her. In the end, she had won. She always won, but this time she was literally given a crown, as was Holden. Spring Fling King and Queen. Watching them stand there while everyone applauded them, watching their steps fall in harmony as they danced together, it made him tremble.

She ran away from him.

Once as children she had fallen down a hill and, in turn, had received a very nasty scrape on her knee. Instead of just letting him help her, she limped herself all the way home, didn't even let him come in with her to make sure she was okay.

All of their lives, Bette ran and Dustyn chased. All their lives he had hoped for some kind of a break, just a day where she let her guard down and realized her feelings for him- assuming she even had them. Even now, she pushed away, her hand against his chest and her eyes on the ground. "I didn't get enough sleep last night, I-," Lie. It was all a lie, fresh out of her perfect red lips. "I guess I just started to see things. I'm sorry." Instead of pushing the issue, he only nodded slightly, ignoring his aching heart like the professional he was at it. "Okay." Things were getting too serious for her. She took another step back and forced a smile.

"I found you." She said, and like her, he faked a smile. "I don't know, Bette, I think I found you." Joking with her then was worse than the pain he'd felt when she cried, but he kept telling himself it was better this way. It was better this way. What if they did try to work things out? They would be happy, sure, for a while at least. Then what would happen? Would they drift apart? Then, not only their romantic relationship would end, but their platonic one would as well, if that's what you would call how he felt for her. It would mean the end of his best friend for good, and with her, the end of the four that were once thick as thieves. It was a huge risk, and he realized that. He had spent so long thinking about the possibilities. His entire childhood was wrapped up in perfect golden curls and an easy smile, yet he was still willing to risk it all because of the other option. An entire lifetime with the girl of his dreams, and she was the girl of his dreams, of that he was sure. Growing old with her, raising children, getting careers, leaving their own mark on the world, it was all he had ever wanted and he wouldn't take no for an answer.

Bette wasn't willing to risk it, though. She pushed him away when he could see in her eyes that she only wanted to pull him closer. What did she do? (What did she do, what did she do, what did she do? She did what she always did, of course.

She ran.

And he did what he always did.

He followed.

"That's not how the game works, Dustyn."

She would know.

Bette Chautin was a queen of adventure, her knights in shining armor the tricks and twists she placed in old games to make them more exciting. She was always in control, never afraid to tell Dustyn what to do. And Dustyn was never afraid to listen.

"That's enough excitement for one day, yeah?" He nodded, but he still wasn't over it, still wanted to know what was wrong with her. Why was she so broken up inside? What had caused her to shatter just like that in the small amount of time he had hidden in those trees? "Come on," she sang, her voice alive like the trees around them, then the soft skin of her hand was wrapped around his wrist as she led him through the forest like it was her home. (It was her home, and his too.) He smiled, a faint blush lighting up his cheeks. Just touching her made him swim with ecstasy and formed a knot in his throat that he couldn't swallow. "Where to?" He asked, always curious as to where she was bringing him. "It's getting dark. I've just wasted half of your day, haven't I?" She replied as if she hadn't even heard his question, and he heard it in her voice, her broken heart.

He quickened his pace so that he was beside her rather than behind, and he was saddened to see that her face was once again twisted in agony. (What was wrong with her?) Opening his mouth to say something like "No, nothing is ever wasted when I'm with you. Ever." he was cut off because she was already talking again, grief in her voice. "I can't believe you've stuck with me for so long, really," He narrowed his eyes. "What? How could I not? You-"

"Really, all I ever do is-," He stopped in his tracks, her grip on his arm seeming more needed for her support now than a friendly gesture. "All I ever do is fuck your life up." Then she laughed, and Dustyn wished that she were only joking, that her words held no meaning, but the laughter was empty and her smile painted. "Wh- no. No? W-" Interrupted yet again by her broken words. "For Ripred's sake, I'm such a-" This time it was him that interrupted. "A great person. The best person." He paused then added, "M- My person..." He didn't know where the sudden burst of bravery was coming from, or what it meant, but he did know he didn't want to see her hurting anymore, and while they stood there, her hand squeezing the life out of his arm as she struggled not to tremble, he was willing to do anything. He wished she would tell him what she wanted, tell him what he had to do to make her happy.

"Why did- Why did Ripred make you love a hateful woman?" So she did know. She knew how he felt and that was what was eating her alive. "He didn't. He let me love you." Then, like lightning, her lips were against his, and a mixture of pure joy, confusion and worry stirred within him. She tasted sweet, like powdered sugar, and smelled better. His hands pulled her closer before he could stop himself. He had waited years for this. He couldn't think of anything more perfect, and when they finally parted, he almost whined from the disappointment. He had so much to say, so many words floating though his mind. "Why?" "Thank you" And the only thing he could say was, "Please, please tell me that wasn't out of pity."