⇋ [dee!]

There was no doubt Ciaran was as ready as he possibly could be for what was to come. At the end of the day he was as prepared as he could become. Sitting around and worrying for any longer would simply lead to more anxiety, more shaking, and more of that sickly feeling in the pit of his stomach. You'd likely give up if you stopped to think about it any longer than a couple of seconds. And yes, there it was exactly. He could feel the nervousness kicking in and so he just shook his hands out, rolled his neck around and looked at Meira with content eyes. "Alright, let's do this!" He had a plan all set up, after all. As long as he stayed confident and acted like everything was okay, there shouldn't have been a problem. Right?

He offered his hand for her, hoping that his tremors weren't as incredibly obvious to the touch. The quickest path would be through town, past where much of his previous illegal activities occurred. Whatever. They've never seen my face. They don't know who I am. Another pit formed in his stomach due to the fear of being arrested, knowing full well that he wouldn't be capable of handling himself in a prison cell. He was too young, too weak, and too innocent for any of that. Sure, he may have engaged in stealing and that wasn't exactly what innocent people did. Ultimately though, he was doing it for a good cause. While the people of Four weren't incredibly wealthy, the shop keepers had plenty to take care of themselves. They can afford to save my family.

Walking past, he kept his eyes straight forward and not looking towards any of the keepers of the stands and shops. Lips were clasped tightly together - they always are, though - and his breath hitched in his throat. But after a short bit, they were long past where he had risk of being caught and were only a few short minutes until he had a place all set up for them. He had left a couple of rods nearby a blanket and basket filled with various loaves of bread. It wasn't much, but the point was what he was planning on saying and not what he was planning on eating. At the end of it all, food didn't matter whatsoever. Ciaran's stomach growled as if to disagree.

Soon enough they were within sight of the spot, and Ciaran pointed forward. And yet none of the rods, blankets nor baskets sat upon the ledge. It was entirely empty. Stopping dead in his tracks, the young thief - former thief - stood with his mouth agape. He wanted to raise his hands and explain, but the anxiety had suddenly slammed into him in an instant. All of the plans he had set fell apart, and he was left with nothing to rely upon. Ciaran was frozen in place, his eyes stinging, his stomach spinning and his hands like jackhammers on their highest setting. But then he saw it, the blanket torn to shreds hanging from a branch of a tree not far off and the empty basket hanging from it too. In the water floated the loaves of bread and two shattered rods.

And it was then that Ciaran's lips parted and a word left them. "Why?" And, as shocking as the scene was, nothing compared to the shock he felt when he could hear the echo of his deep voice all around him.

Out far in the distance there existed a paradise filled with trees made of smooth wood and bearing the fruits filled with the finest nectar. White sand covered its ground, various shells of all the most beautiful colours dotting the canvas. Within the paradise there was a boy with a heart far too grand, but a mind that had been held back for too long. He went about his day with love for every single creation he had within the events of his life, not quite knowing how best to express his appreciation. Life was simply as basic as it could be as he kept about his day-to-day routines, happily living with a clueless attitude.

And one day paradise became subjective in the eyes of the boy as a new prospect came from the waters surrounding him. His island no longer appeared to be this perfect place, his eyes falling upon a new dream. I want to be with her. She provided a feeling of safety and yet adventure that he could find nowhere else. For the first time, the boy from paradise felt like seeking out wise knowledge he had avoided thus far. For the first time in his existence, the boy wished to improve upon the person he was. He wanted to change. I want to be with her.

Paradise came crumbling down in seconds and that young boy felt himself struggling to move. His eyes did not leave the sight before him, locked upon the disaster that had been left for him to discover. No trees bearing delicious fruit, no beautiful shells dotting the landscape. Destruction. Chaos. All that was left for the boy who became so used to his paradise was disappointment.

And the shock that came with hearing his voice through his ears whilst in the presence of another. It hit him incredibly hard in that moment, smashing into him like a vehicular impact. Every bone felt as if it had shattered and reset into place, as if he was no longer the person he had been before. Meira could have been speaking or signing and Ciaran would have had no idea; he was long gone into the confines of his mind in an attempt to rebuild the paradise he grew so used to.

Then he felt it upon his hand. Warmth caressed against him, acting like a rope that was pulling him back out. His broken paradise no longer looked as worth fixing as the pull of the warmth moving across his knuckles. When he returned to reality and turned his rigid head towards the source, a new paradise came into view. I want to be with her.

She spoke, and although he could hear her words it seemed like he was listening through deafened ears. "You...said something." And while she was absolutely right, he wasn't quite sure how to respond to it. There was no answer for her, as he wasn't exactly understanding how any of that came to be in the first place. But her eyes were there, looking at him and he forgot everything around him existed. There was no destroyed picnic, no ruined confession. There was only her and Ciaran felt entirely content with that paradise he was living in.

He wanted nothing more than to speak to her again, telling her with his very own words that she made his stomach spin and that there was never a sunset or sunrise in the world that could remind him of how incredibly beautiful she was. He wanted to tell her that he felt like he could travel through the galaxies above if he knew he would find her at the end of it. What on earth am I feeling? Ciaran wanted to speak with his own voice to tell her how important she was to him, and how dependent on her he had become.

And yet no matter how hard he tried, no voice came out. It was as if the noises hadn't left him moments before. He struggled, frustration evident on his face as he kept opening his mouth to release the words but running into the road block that always prevented it. Using his hands would be the only option, but one still had the connection to Meira that he didn't want to sever. I can't guarantee I'll still stay present, mentally, if I don't have your hand in mine. He had to, though, to get out his words. Biting tightly on his lip, he removed his hand and went to sign to her.

"Everything got ruined and I'm sorry."

There was no moment in time where Ciaran could pinpoint exactly when everything became clear for him. It was if he was looking into a fogged mirror, made so by steam in the room, that then dissipated away in an instant. Just like that he was looking at his reflection with a clarity he had never known before. That whole experience was much the same as his sudden discovery of what was going on in his stomach, brain and heart. She's not just a friend. I want her to be so much more than that. He couldn't quite admit to himself, let alone her, that those feelings were occurring within him. For whatever reason, Ciaran couldn't quite believe that this was actually the case.

Ciaran Slater was sure of only a few things in his life. Firstly, no matter how much he tried he was entirely unable to express himself verbally to those that fall outside of his natural comfort zone. Secondly, he would do absolutely anything for the ones he cared about and loved, even going so far as to break the law for them as he had done most of his life. Lastly, he was absolutely confident in the fact that Meira had become one of those people who he cared so deeply for. But it's not just that. He felt something far greater than what he had felt before, and every moment with her only built on that intense feeling from within. As he looked into her bright eyes while standing together in the clearing, the confirmation he truly needed began to surface.

No person had ever succeeded in bringing him out of his daze. He could remember one afternoon where he held tightly to his mother's hand as they walked through the District, intent on finding ointments and balms that his father would need for an infection that had appeared on his leg. Quicker than Ciaran could respond to, two children from his class ran up with sly looks in their eyes. They immediately began chattering away with no care for the anxiety building up within Ciaran, pushing him further and further within himself. And then he was gone, his eyes zoning out entirely. When he returned, he was back home in his bed, his mother sitting over him with a loving look in her eyes. Not even she could pull him out of the fearful, catatonic state he tended to hide in. Not even my own mother...

And yet with a loving touch of warmth, and a kindness that seemed to exude from her, Ciaran felt secure once again. He was comfortable, no matter what world he lived in. All of his plans had been shattered, the last thing any anxious person would ever want, and yet he found himself settling down within moments. "You don’t have to apologize. Just being with you is enough." Her words lit his mind and heart afire, seeming to warm up the entirety of his body within seconds. He wanted to hold her, to touch her, to be as close to her as possible. Every part of him was sure of the feelings he had now, ready to jump head first.

Yet silence still remained, his mind not quite sure how to best elaborate the way he felt. "Though I am sorry that your set-up was ruined. It looks like a lot of effort." She was right in that observation; it had taken quite a lot of hours distributing papers to gather enough money for the rods and food. The new, legal Ciaran didn't even consider stealing them with ease, instead knowing he'd have to put in the work to get what he wanted for Meira. It meant a lot of overtime and a lot of running around. Now all of it is destroyed. But the point of this whole thing had yet to be ruined. It never could be.

"We'll have to get food some other way, now." He let himself smile slightly, his shoulders settling as his muscles softened. His face was flushed from the moments of anxiousness just moments before, and from the few nerves over what he was about to do. Moving his weight from one foot to the other, he prepared himself for all that was to come. "But first... Okay. Meira, can I confess something?"

There were so many ways to say what he wanted to say. Without a doubt in his mind, Ciaran would have no issue finding some way to elaborate what he wanted to say. However, one issue did exist that he had yet to think about, and it was an issue he didn't quite know how to get over. I have absolutely no clue how to sign this to her.

His grasp of the language that Meira he created was vast now; he had learned all of the basics and was very much of a natural by this point in common conversations. There wasn't a single conversation he had had with Meira that caused him to struggle to determine the words. Even if he wasn't entirely confident in a proper translation, he could work his way around it with creative language. With this conversation, however, he wasn't exactly sure how to get his point across perfectly.

Perhaps the biggest issue was that, while he knew exactly how he felt, he didn't know much of the details in the first place. Ciaran barely had friends, let alone anything more than that. He wasn't used to the feeling of having any romantic desire for someone. There were next to no instances in his life where had even considered that as a possibility. Even if he were to find somebody in his life, he would have to spend the remainder of their time together using a sign language of some sort. His anxiety was always there, and wasn't likely to go away any time soon.

And yet he felt entirely comfortable with the girl before him. He felt as if he had no cares in the world about the difficulties of language. Language didn't matter with his best friend. I need to tell her in some way. But he couldn't. He wasn't capable of finding the proper words to tell her, no matter how hard he struggled. And yet it was worth a shot, at the very least. "Meira, you're the greatest friend anybody could ask for." There. That's a good start. That's a very good start and you are on the right track. Okay, let's go.

"I'm so unbelievably honoured to have you in my life." Okay, this is a great start. You know what you're doing, right? You know exactly what you're saying and everything is okay and you don't need to worry and you are going to get the point across and everything is fine. Come on Ciaran. He still struggled to find exactly what he wanted to say to officially confess it. "You've made me a way better person than I could ever imagine being and I owe you everything." But it still wasn't enough. He didn't know how he should say it.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He dropped his hands to his side, looking down at the ground in frustration.