ᴡᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴜs ғᴏᴏʟs,
ᴅʀᴜɴᴋᴇɴ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴄᴀɴ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴡɪɴᴇ.
sᴇʟʟɪɴɢ ᴏᴜʀ sᴏᴜʟs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ,
ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴏ ᴡᴇ ᴄᴀɴ sᴀʏ
ᴡᴇ sᴘᴇɴᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ.
ʙᴜᴛ sᴛɪʟʟ ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛs ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ sᴏʙᴇʀ...

(Paul's POV)

I've taken thousands of steps, but yet I do not move. My feet slowly saunters into a bright and better tomorrow. Such gentle discourse in the loneliness, so my vision never falter.

We are not governed by time, but the way we make things mean.

When the sun sets, it's quiet presence wanders behind purple lily skies. The last bright tangerine hue fades behind the drapes, as the blood colors merge into the sea.

Tiny silhouettes peep behind the looking glass, waiting for the light to simmer behind the mountains. I love to watch the birds streak across the infinite heavens; rippling colors and feathers in the null blue.

My day is done, and it feels like the last show. Something grand is coming to an end and darkness is a semblance for all we've let slip away.

The world is our theater, and we are trapped in fates performance.

So, yes I choose to spend my long drawn out days, walking, and waiting for the sun to descend behind the horizon of our redolent times; a wanderer looking for a purpose.

"You can't sleep here you know that?" Ed yawned tiredly. The night was upon us, a symphony of crickets chirped, as they worshipped the glittering stars.

"Where am I supposed to go?" I grumbled, my body still sore from the last man.

The cans and bottles clanked in the trash bag Ed was struggling to carry.

I helped him take the weight off his shoulder.

"You know, there's a shelter ten miles down the road" he whispered out of breath.

I nodded my head, we've had this conversation several times before. It always ends with profanity.

"I can't have you sleeping behind the trashcans!" he lectured firmly.

"Why because it's bad for business?! Does it make your precious store look less appealing to locals?" I spat bitterly, giving him a look that was meant to scorn his existence.

Ed, wiped his brow, "no because, it breaks my heart every night to go to bed, safe, and warm, knowing that you can't have the same experience" his voice cracked.

The lines of time wore on his wrinkled face. The youth was wrung out and sunken in his round cheeks. I studied the ways his bones creaked when he bent over with slow deliberation and cautious movements.

Not to mention his gentle eyes, strained to see his feet before him. Yet he trusted life to guide him, down his weary path like an old faithful memory.

He was growing old before me.

"I'll be fine!" I hissed grabbing my jacket.

Ed shook his head, "You're so stubborn Paul" he sighed giving in.

I huffed, this old geezer was really pushing my buttons. No one gave him permission to care about me!

Ed dug into his pockets. His store keys jangling loudly, as he pulled out some spare change, "Happy Birthday" he said handing it to me.

I looked at him in disbelief. What the hell, was wrong with everyone today? First Feather and now him.

"It's not my birthday, you old nut..." I teased gently.

Ed turned around, walking towards his old beat down Honda, the one with the crooked front door, "you were born sometime this year, that's good enough for me" he smiled warmly.

My tongue grew heavy, the words lodged in my mouth. I didn't know what to say as I watched him drive away. I dug my nails into my palms to keep from crying, the tears just at the brim.

I needed a drink.

I tied my tattered shoes. My large toe stuck out through the hole at the top, "Ten miles it is!" I muttered.

The Next Afternoon

"What the fuck?!" I moaned. My head was pounding, it was all blurred lines and double vision. Not to mention the raging hunger and nausea that combined into a swirling tornado in my stomach.

I was hungover.

The loud banging continued, but it wasn't' in my head. It sounded like pots and pans clashing together, as it rattled my skull.

I staggered around, wondering how the hell I ended up back in the truck. Last night was a long and wild night, and my recollection was fogger than low storm clouds.

I opened the door, my feet spinning in a fast and sickening cycle.

"Yes!" I gasped swinging the door open, praying that this torture would stop!

"Hi!" Feather smiled.

She paused to stare at me with concern, "you look awful" she pointed out.

I swayed dangerously, doubling over as my stomach did cartwheels and I felt myself gag.

"Blllaaaaarrrggggghhh" I tried to hold in it, but the vomit came up with a nasty vengeance.

The warm sour liquid dribbled down my chin and splattered on my dirty shirt.

I moaned weakly as I felt the feeling come up again, building in my throat.

Feather held me up, so I wouldn't collapse from exhaustion, starvation, and now this...

"That's it we are going to get you cleaned up," she said wrinkling her nose.

For once I was too weak to argue.

"Where are you taking me?" I groaned closing my eyes, as she led me away from the truck.

"My house," she said calmly, "I live right down the street. You can take a shower, and wear some clean clothes" she offered.

I staggered but managed to dig my feet into the hard concrete, "nope, I just need a hose and Ed has one here" I said stubbornly.

Feather tugged at my sleeve, "No, you need food and water. You might need medical attention as well" she pushed me angrily, "I'm paying for this time Paul, so please don't say shit about how it's going to cost me."

The corners of my mouth creased upwards, a tiny smile breaking through. I would never tell her, but when she had that determined angry look on her face, it was really cute. It was as if a fluffy baby bunny was trying to scare a tiger.

The truth was it was costing me...

Feather was right she didn't live far. I leaned on her slightly to support my wobbly feet as she wrapped her arms around my waist.

In a few minutes, we had turned the corner and found our way to a cul-de-sac of houses buried between the high grass. It was a tiny civilization far off from the main city roads. It was cozy and peaceful in its aesthetic.

I imagined her street was the place where writers and artist lived, every house was like a mural of bright colors and abstracts structures.

"Were here!" she said proudly, opening her door.

I raised an eyebrow, looking at the homemade windchimes on the porch; it consisted of straws and little bells.

"I made that in the third grade" she laughed proudly, following my eye.

I looked away, "I see" I mumbled feeling embarrassed for her.

I was starting to feel uncomfortable and not because of my bad drinking choices. As Feather gave me a tour, my mind drifted to more concerning thoughts,

"whojust meets someone and lets them into their home and life?"

"Is she a serial killer?"

"Is this a trap, will I be tied down and abducted?"

Feather interrupted my thoughts screaming at the top of her lungs, "FIIIGGGGS GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE" she called from the stairway.

Feather turned back around to me, "that's my brother" she explained.

I gulped, a new fear shaping in my mind as I wondered how the fuck I could make an escape from this nuthouse.

What would I tell the police?

I could picture the conversation in my mind, "Yes, I'd like to report an abduction. My captives names are Feather and Figs".

What a shit show.

"Actually, my name is Xavier, and her name is Alexis. I have no idea why she insists on using our childhood nicknames" a deep voice greeted me.

I could see that it was her brother. They both had unruly black curly hair, nutmeg eyes, and a skinny stature.

Xavier shook my hand, his demeanor was serious and standoffish, "I can see that my sister brought home another pet" he mumbled rudely.

Feather rolled her eyes, "He needs some clothes, can he have your old ones?" she asked.

Figs shrugged, lounging on the couch, "whatever, I'll be playing video games."

Feather put her hands on her hips annoyed, "you're like an overgrown infant, Mom needs to kick you out" she complained.

I coughed loudly, not giving a fuck about their sibling problems.

Feather took my hand, it was small and slipped into mine with ease, "follow me upstairs, I'll get everything ready" she smiled.

I looked back at Xavier, envious of the food he was now shoveling into his mouth.

"Don't expect me to say thank you," I said grabbing the towel.

I put a cold distance in between us, like a well-defined line she couldn't crossover.

Feather bit her lips as if she was desperate to say something, but her face relaxed letting go of whatever it is she felt she had to say.

She directed me to the bathroom, "our hot water knob is broken, so here's the trick" she twisted and turned the latch, in a repeated pattern, until the water and steam poured, blasting from the showerhead above.

"Here's my brother's clothes, a towel, and soap," she said pointing to everything.

I started to undress but stopped realizing Feather was still standing next to me.

"What? you want to take a shower with me?" I asked jokingly.

Feather squealed, "can I?" she asked excitedly. I stared in disbelief as she bent down to untie her shoes.

My eyes became huge, "damn it no Feather!" I yelled, "seriously what is wrong with you?!. Make up your mind are we talking or letting me do my job because..." I paused mid-sentence looking at Feather's face.

She covered her mouth to hide the burst of laughter that was slipping out. Her bright eyes opened as she let out a contagious spell of happy giggles.

Then it dawned on me, "You were kidding huh? It was a joke." I grumbled embarrassed.

Feather nodded, a twinkle in her eyes, "you were ready to let me have it huh?" she winked.

I swatted her with the towel, smiling, "fuck off!" I said gently nodding my head toward the door.

Feather turned around and headed toward the door. Her hand had just touched the knob when something impulsive and strange washed over me.

I grabbed her arm, pulling her close. Her eyes were like a Kaleidoscope of pulsing earth browns, gentle in it's washed away softness. I felt hypersensitive to the textures and sounds that radiated between us, like whizzing electricity in our fingertips.

This close to her, I could feel things, like the fleece of her olive skin, or the sporadic flutters of her rising and sinking chest. Not to mention the lavender perfume that danced in pleasantness.

My heart raced in my pulse, as I felt my breath flare through my nostrils. For the first time in a long time, I was scared...but more afraid of letting go.

I gathered my courage, reminding myself that I was a man. I cleared my throat again, standing tensely in the warm steam, our bodies blushing in the vapors and mist.

"Th-th-ank you." I grumbled my voice was scratchy as I resorted to caveman language.

I let her go. Feather's long lashes skidded across her angel cheeks, as she tried to gain her shaking composure.

"Food will be ready when you come down" she blushed, her voice lost in the haze of our trance.

(Feather's POV)

My feet will move when there are no steps to take because I believe love never falters.

I will turn my head down so we fall like lovers.

I hope to catch the intangible dreams, of things we only dream when our hearts have been silenced.

Paul has an intensity about him, he speaks through his eyes. When he looks at me I forget who I am, and I feel compelled to give him everything.

It's not that I fall in love easily, it just that I fall...

His kinetic energy is strong a force field. It's both passion and anger, like a temple that has been wrecked by an anomaly.

I can tell he destroy things, but he never had to hold anything fragile.

"Stop it" my brother hissed pulling me aside as I walked into the kitchen to find him staring at me.

I sniffled, "I can't help it" I confessed.

My brother looked at me with disgust, "people aren't projects Alexis. You can't go around saving everyone" he pleaded for me to listen.

"The life you give takes and chips away more than anything. I'm not saying be selfish, but being the opposite of mean is unhealthy too!" he warned.

I sighed, it started when I was four. I brought home a baby bird with a broken wing. I was always helping people, and my brother worried that it was without regard for myself.

"Being a martyr doesn't make you amazing, it makes you a fool," he explained.

Figs hugged me, pulling me into arms, for one of our loving sibling moments, "I just want someone to love you, the way you love others. I'm trying to protect you" he said softly kissing my forehead, "I'm tired of people using you" he confessed.

I rubbed my chest, it was sorer than usual lately and I was growing hungrier by the second.

"He's a good person, I know he is," I said crossing my heart with my fingers. I realized that I was going out on a limb for Paul.

Xavier shook his head at me in disgust, "He's a prostitute that's the gritty truth. He will always be tainted and selfish" he spat.

I felt my eyebrows raise, "are you sure we're still talking about him?" I asked thinking about his past experiences.

Behind his warm smile, my brother never trusted people and love came by rarely for him. He had fortified his heart with iron doors and sealed it.

Xavier looked at me, pausing to think, "it won't fix your heart either" he told me walking away.

I rolled my eyes, mocking his annoying voice, "it's not broken" I said stubbornly to myself.

I could hear the showering beating on steadily, I hoped that the dirt washed off Paul's body, so he could see that he was human, like the rest of us, who wore a mask.

"We should invite him out with us tonight," I said ignoring my brother's advice.

Figs groaned, "It's not like I can stop you" he mumbled turning on the tv.

I giggled with excitement, the day had just turned for the better and I couldn't wait to tell Paul.

I ran upstairs and knocked on the bathroom door, no one answered. I knocked again becoming nervous, the water was running but it was unusually quiet.

"Paul?!" I whispered opening the door.

A sinking feeling in my stomach, as I looked around the empty bathroom. The window was wide open letting a cool breeze in.

The frustration was building like waves crashing against the rocky shores. Tears were falling at just the thought of my brother being, right.

"Paul?" I sniffled.

My voice trembling, knowing deep down that he was already gone. The cold harsh abandonment resembled a shut door in my face. Like the meaning we give things, I guess I just hoped Paul would mean something to me too.

It's not that he left.

It never is.

It's about what you leave behind, and what you take.

Or the way people get to remember you when you go...

Authors Note: Aww I hope Paul comes back, don't you? Stick around for another special chapter to be uploaded soon. In the meantime vote, comment, share and check out the music!