in open spaces [kaplan]

JULIUS HUNT.

Julius' mom had, for as long as he could remember, told him there was one common mistake everyone made. "Eyes," she had reminded him once when he was twelve, "are not the windows to the soul; it's a person's smile that shows their true self." Julius responded with a snort, like he did every other time she told him that. It was not that Julius did not believe his mother, it was that Julius never understood her. That changed when he saw the boy next to him smile. His smirk was bold and strong, his lips steady and even. Julius could tell, with no difficulty, that the stranger beside him was very rigid and, seemingly unrelated, very ardent. Rigor and passion were the first two words that came to Julius' mind when he laid his hazel eyes on the stranger's chocolate ones, and a glance at his lips only confirmed this.

"Ah, I don't know. I think I'll stay away from it tonight," responded the boy with a laugh. Julius and his newfound acquaintance seemed to have the same idea for the night: sobriety, at least when it came to alcohol. His voice, while brisk, was not as rough as Julius had expected. The words he spoke themselves were less stiff than thought, as they seemed to flow with raw character and charisma. Something about his half-promise to remain alcohol-free for the night was childish and playful, and it had made Julius blush. The boy next to him reached for the battle, brushing his calloused fingers against Julius'. The contact sent compact jolts of electricity though his fingers. His arm hairs stood on their ends and he pulled his suede jacket tighter around his torso as he simultaneously tucked his knees into each other; an attempt to collect any bit of warmth he could.

 "I'm Rinji, by the way. I don't think I've seen you around before." Julius offered a smile as the name settled in his brain.

Rinji. It was not what Julius would had picked for him, but it fit somehow. The name did not pack a punch, but it did pack quite a lot. It was a filling name, with a rich accent on the latter syllable and a pungent movement of the mouth. The title rang through Julius' head as he surveyed the soirée. Laughter erupting here and there clued partygoers in on the rising tempo of the night. The conglomeration of smoke, marijuana, alcohol, and alpine smells excited Julius every time he inhaled, and his heart started beating a little faster whenever he caught a couple sneaking into the woods to do something about their heavy hearts. Despite the heating up of the party, the pyre in the middle began to die down until it became no more than a beacon of minimal heat and warmth. Julius shivered again as a wave of coldness hit him.

"Do you think we should do something about that, or let someone else handle it?" Julius asked while motioning over to the waning fire. "Oh, before I forgot, my name's Julius. And yeah, I don't think I've seen you around before either - I would've remembered that." The idea was not to flirt, at least it was not when Julius originally opened his mouth. Something about the atmosphere, though, always had an effect on Julius. Perhaps it was the guitar that had wood him and mellowed him out, allowing him to speak care-free. Or it could have been the lights encapsulating them, making it seem as though they were not a bunch of teenagers in the forest but instead socialites in the middle of an august gather. Julius was not sure if Rinji was even interested in his own gender, or if he would even recognize the last remark as a (lukewarm) attempt to flirt.

Regardless, Julius saw no harm.

how do I make you wanna stay?

hate sleeping on my own