3 - Snippet: [Untitled WIP] / Pairing: Thomas/Guy (platonic)
He was called to be apart. Everyone is only a year older him in this class at the very most, but he feels threatened by what he doesn’t have and they do. A natural reaction, if an unfortunate one that will forever affect how he lives his life; he simply cannot let go of that feeling of lack, regardless of whether it’s true, or if it even matters or not. There is another boy sitting at the back of the class, short but wiry with long dark stringy hair, completely uninterested in this younger newcomer to his grade. He only sees the boy’s head lift up once to survey the front of the classroom, ice-blue eyes filled with what he thinks is a quiet but passionate wildness briefly meeting his own. In that one instant he finds that boy different from everyone else, and takes an immediate liking to him, quickly pushing his desk adjacent to the other’s and introducing himself: enchanté!
In the Rue Robert-Planquette, he buys newspapers, magazines and candy from a rough-spoken but kind old man from Metz who pinches his cheek and gives his greetings. His visits to this particular location began because one day he saw his father there, on the cover of a magazine. He never tells the old man that particular fact; Guy knows about it, though, and he soon becomes a regular visitor there as well. Next to the shop there is a takeaway and it smells of fried potatoes all day long, though the old man doesn’t mind and he doesn’t either, because he finally has the one friend to go there with. Guy, it turns out - much later - didn’t even notice the smell, so that worked out.
As the years pass and new bodies grow to shield young minds, he begins to notice just how intense Guy can be, not just between themselves but for every aspect of life. Schoolwork, language learning, the choice between cereal and croissant at breakfast - everything has to be meticulously debated or categorized, sometimes (he believes, anyhow) purely for the beauty of doing so. And that makes him nervous, because deep in his mind, he has always suspected that his friend is - in some way or another - insane. It’s the double-barrelled name, probably, first name and surname both; too many names mean too many personalities that go with them. Either that or it’s just the look in his friend’s eyes, switching rapidly between dreamy-unfocused and a wild directionless stare. In fact, Guy was wise to figure out this aspect of his personality at this young age, especially because he’s going to turn out similar as an adult with a lot less of a clue as to what to do about it; at this point, however, it’s just hard for him to know what to say when they’re on their first ferry to Dover and Guy pops open a bag of Skittles, pouring out the lot into his palms, that maniacal glint in his eye as he tells him to taste the rainbow.