Title: We Are Young
Disclaimer: I own a pair of converse, can't claim skins though.
A/N: First attempt at the fandom, it's a scary jump. Was a really small drabble than grew. Probably a two parter, maybe more.
It burns bright. It sets ablaze earth wrapped tightly in a paper cocoon.
The smoke drifts from the tip of the spliff; it goes in trails and traces upwards and finally dissipates as if on a whim back into nothingness and he can understand the action. To be honest, he's a bit jealous that he doesn't currently have the option to evaporate away and simply slip into non-being because man, life is shit. And well-- yeah, probably not anymore than it's ever been but something about sitting shrugged over on this brittle bench at some random bus stop in New York has this overwhelming sense of being overwhelmed… well, overwhelming him. Sid knows without doubt that when he turns around, Tony won't be standing there with a plan, a scheme; an apocalypse ready and it's got him wrapping loneliness around him like a coat to fend off the cold while he tries to figure out where the hell Cassie is presently existing in this more than baffling place.
Two in the morning and he still has no where to stay. Minor details, though.
He brings the spliff to his lips and inhales, lets the smoke ferment in swirls around his mouth while he stares down at the stained concrete. Usually it calms him down but tonight nothing is going to get through the wall of tension and stress weaving in and out; his thoughts and emotions are too scattered all over the place to be calmed, or for any kind of control to be established. Really, it's been like that since he got on the plane. Anxiousness and uncertainty festering in his stomach while he sat in the window seat, looking out at the ever growing, never ending expanse of blue and clouds. He felt like vomiting when he was standing outside of the New York City airport trying to hail a taxi with the knowledge that when he got in, he had nothing to tell the driver except 'drive.' Overcome with the sensation the world was spinning around him while he wandered the streets and asked strangers if they'd seen the one girl he could say he truly loved with all his fuck up heart.
Sid exhales and purges the smoke out into the night while getting to his feet and letting fate pick the direction he starts to walk in because it's clearly evident when left with the means to choose for himself, he'll never make the right decision. His hand hangs limp at his side, fingers flick one end of the joint in a nervous tick, forcing hot ash to free fall to the pavement while russet eyes try valiantly and fail horribly to hold steady to any one thing. There is a battle going on, internally. He's fighting tooth and nail with the tempting urge to give up and quit like always and not just because he's trapped in a strange and different country but because this is it; she's it. He may never fully understand her and everything that goes into creating a person as lovely, and reckless, and perfect, and crazy as her but he understands who she belongs with.
More than that he understands that finding a person that can simultaneously slow the blood in your veins and speed up your heartbeat just by thinking of them is once in a lifetime and he needs her.
He understands that much, and figures it might be enough.
Turning a corner, he continues on, lifting the spliff to his lips once again. The streetlights are flickering on and off and it feels like maybe the city is trying to tell him something via morse code but he doesn't know what the pauses and the breaks mean so he shrugs it off and keeps moving forward with his gaze locked to the ground and because of that it seems like he'll miss the girl looking like a broken angel, hair shining like gold and hanging in curls, standing outside of the diner on the corner on the other side of the street. It seems like it but then something clicks and it's like a voice whispers heavy into his ear 'look up' and of course he does and that's when he sees her.
The wave of happiness yet fear crashes into him with such force that he feels like he was going to be knocked off his feet and to the ground.
He keeps balance though and only the burning cigarette becomes a causality and drops to the concrete. His body moves towards her on it's own accord without his permission. It's something instinctual taking place, a magnetic pull hooking into his skin and dragging him over. She looks up on cue, with him a few feet away and her eyes are wide even before she sees him, like she felt him coming towards. That in turn causes him to stop dead in his tracks, feet frozen and merging into the cement. Neither say anything (he doesn't due to sheer inability, he's not sure of her reasons) and they just stare and it feels like forever; probably longer than forever- maybe two forevers and a lifetime.
But slowly, her lips turn upwards in a hesitate smile that gets real wide for a moment, blinding like the sun, before settling down.
And it's what he needs- no, it's all and everything he needs.
The distance gets cut down and they collide in a crushing hug, her flush against him while he wraps his arms around her to keep her secure and close. Her finger nails are digging into his shoulder blades in what he hopes is an attempt to keep him from disappearing because that's why he's currently clinging to her for dear life, letting the familiar scent of cherries wash over and engulf him. It was like walking into a distant and distinct memory of home and he never ever wants to leave. But sometime later, he's not sure how long they hold one and other in silence, she pulls away slightly and he looks down and brown meets brown in a accustomed stare mixed with want and confusion but mostly need.
"Hi." It floats out like some sugary melody.
"Hi." He returns in a rasp tenor from non-use and smoking.
They stand still along with time and the world.