Tryle - Wandering

[Kyle Stockholm]

Kyle smiled. "I don't know what to ask, though," he said playfully as he rolled his neck which was more so a twitch than it was on purpose. It looked pretty normal, though. Who doesn't roll their neck? Biting the corner of his lip, Kyle's gaze turned from Trista's face to the fire and then to his hand which was tapping at his knee. After a moment, he began to bob along with the beat he was creating and let out a low hum. "Do you.. have questions for me?" he asked quietly, thinking maybe he should switch it up a bit. He'd gotten her to speak a little bit, maybe now she wanted to know something too. That seemed fair.

Usually, Kyle wasn't the one to just open up about his situation. Like mentioned, it tended to weird people out. He prided himself in being able to hide most of it, but every now and then a tic escaped. He was aware. And it made him feel little when he told people about his diseases and they responded with "oh that explains it" or "i thought so". Made him really hate people, actually. Who were they to judge him for something he couldn't control? Who were they to make assumptions as to why his hands moved the way they did? It made him rather angry, honestly. But for more than one reason, Kyle felt he could trust Trista with this. She didn't seem like the kind of person to judge him. In fact, she seemed like she might even understand. That was promising and heartwarming and made him comfortable.

Comfortable.

That was a word that was being tossed around a lot.

"I just figure, y'know, that like... I dunno, I asked you some questions. Maybe you wanna ask me some? That sounds cocky.. I swear its not," he said, laughing a bit at the end. He spoke so freely with her. His voice was soft and he didn't fight its pitch. He didn't feel like he had to be something he wasn't around her. That was a different feeling... and he liked it. Being the real Kyle Stockholm was something he didn't do on a daily basis. So to say this was refreshing would be an understatement.

[Trista Kline]

Green eyes watched him, analyzed him, tried to understand him. There is was again, a movement that wasn’t his own. It looked cleverly disguised, but she’d been watching for it for quite some time. A part of her wanted to run her fingers of the muscle and feel the demons beneath them. She wanted to understand them, but wanted to know she wasn’t the only one with demons. She could hear him humming softly, and strained to listen to the beautiful sounds he produced. She wished she could hear it through his mind; surely it was gorgeous within the depths of his mind, where only he could listen to it.

She was pulled back from her thoughts by his soft voice. Questions for him? Only too many to think of. “I want to know more about you,” she said truthfully,” because you seem to have a beautiful mind.” It sounded quite off, but it made so much sense to Trista. She didn’t care about appearances, it was what was inside that really mattered. It was why she liked looking into peoples’ eyes, because they were windows. They’re windows to the soul, and she’d been fascinated ever since she first locked eyes with him in the ice cream shop.

Trista quite liked the higher pitch of his voice that contrasted with many males in their grade. It made him different, unique. No one person had ever intrigued her so much, let alone given her chance to be human. Yet here he was, wishing to know her and for her to know him in return. “Can you tell me about…” she hesitated for a moment before looking at him,” about the movements that aren’t yours.” She didn’t want to be blunt about something that could potentially be an extremely touchy subject, but she wanted to know him, and his condition was part of him. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she said, looking quickly into her lap,” I just want to understand you, all the beautiful parts of you.” When Trista called people beautiful, it didn’t always mean in an attractive physical manner. You could be physically beautiful, or a beautiful person. Kyle was just that, a beautiful person.

[Kyle Stockholm]

"A beautiful mind," Kyle repeated in a sort of longing tone as he looked back at the fire for what was probably the eighth time. He thought on that for a moment; his mind, what it was. That was a scary thing for Kyle.. to think about his mind. To him, it was probably the scariest thing in the world. Such a powerful piece of muscle; so small weighing no more than ten pounds, yet so powerful. It was terrifying to think how much control it had over him and strange to think that even though it was his mind, there was so much out of his hands. Sometimes he wondered if rather than it being his brain, he was its body. He saw what it wanted to see and it gave him the false sense that he had control. The ability to eat and speak at will, the ability to make music and laugh. That was his own. But so many things were not his own.

Trista knew.

"No, no. Don't apologize," Kyle spoke up when she asked about the 'movements that were not his own'. It made him smile, really, that someone was actually asking nicely. And even if it didn't make him smile, he'd have no right to get mad at her. He told her she could ask him things, and so she took that chance. Honestly, though, that was an irrelevant thought. He was more than happy to talk about it. "I have, uh, a couple different things going on up there. Three, actually," he said, waving his hand around his forehead and then stopping to place his palm over his brow. "For one, I have tourettes syndrome." He said that a bit softly. Kind of sadly, almost. That one hurt to admit, because it made him feel small. It was the reason he couldn't control himself, it was the reason he did most of the things he did. And that hurt. "That's where the, uh, 'movements that aren't my own' come from, y'know?

I've also got BPD. Or, uh, borderline personality disorder. Its like I feel super strong emotions, sorta. Like really happy, really sad. But its triggered, so its not like, uh, like bipolar. Like different things bring out different emotions, like with personality disorders where different situations bring out different personalities, y'know?" He'd gotten good at explaining this over the years.

The last one was depression... but Kyle wasn't sure how to just bring that up. He didn't know if that was something you told people. Sure he'd heard all that 'social stigma' shit and he didn't want to fall into that. But was this something you just tell someone? I mean, I guess it didn't matter now. He'd basically opened his soul to her what with tourettes and BPD. If anything, those were more serious than depression. Well, to him. Honestly, to Kyle, his depression wasn't anything at all. He'd gotten used to feeling sad, so it didn't bother him. But he still wasn't sure if he should just blurt out 'hey i'm depressed too'. So he left it at that and found himself pulling his knees back to his chest where he buried his nose again.

Maybe she wouldn't realize that he'd said 'three things' and then only mentioned two...

[Trista Kline]

It did sound strange when he repeated her words. Was deep in thought, and she made no move to interrupt him, though he wasn’t verbally speaking. Sometimes interrupting someone’s thoughts was just as rude as interrupting a conversation. Trista respected both and would let his mind wander as free as he wished. They had nowhere to be, no place to go. Here, time wasn’t a factor. There was no rush to continue a conversation that could possibly be much more elaborate. She enjoyed conversations that took a lot of thought and effort. They meant so much more, even if talking to him felt easy. It was that her mind was always engaged around him, always intrigued.

Trista let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding silently. There was no offense, and he seemed slightly amused by how she’d asked it. It was borderline childlike innocence on how she’d approached it. Things like that weren’t always easy to explain, and if he’d been in denial, it wouldn’t have gone over well. Trista didn’t deny her past, because that’s what had formed it. She feared the future, and the potential of repeating her mistakes. It wasn’t her that she feared, but the humans around her whose reactions she couldn’t control. She couldn’t control her father, and she couldn’t control her ex-boyfriend. There were fragments though, from her early childhood that she couldn’t tap into. Andin truth, she feared the day she might actually remember. Some things were better left forgotten.

She listened with interest as he explained his disorder, and she didn’t feel pity for him. She wanted to reach out, and let him know that she didn’t care about any of that. They were a part of him, and she accepted all of him. He’d completely opened up to her in a way she didn’t think was possible. It was as though he didn’t have any secrets. There was nothing more powerful than a man who could trust himself. “You’re imperfectly perfect,” she said softly, shifting slightly so she was facing him. Still cross legged she looked at him, for who he really was- human.

There was a new sense of clarify in the air, like the world had sighed in revelation. It was as though he’d told her his story, and now it was her turn. She didn’t feel a sense of hesitation to let him into her mind, like he’d let her into his. And though it would appear as two strangers telling their secrets, it was much more than that. It was two misunderstood souls finding acceptance with each other, finding something solid. But right now, she felt likes he could trust him with things she could barely admit to herself, things her mother didn’t even know, all the things that made her afraid to dream and afraid of the world.

“My parents spilt up because my father was an alcoholic and a very abusive man,” she said softly, her fingers finding another blade of grass. “I don’t remember much from my early childhood, just small fragments here and there,” she bit her lip for a moment,” everything before I woke up in the hospital seems nothing more than a faint memory.” It was strange telling him about her past, and it almost didn’t sound real to her. But if she were just to stop there, it would only be a small piece of the puzzle. “I was in love once, or I thought I was, with someone who was no better than my father,” fingers fiddled a bit more with the grass,” looking back, I regret letting myself become nothing more than property, and item. Clothes can only cover bruises, but nothing can hide the scars in my mind.” The only person who had ever actually loved her was her mother, the woman who raised her.

“The reason I’m quiet and don’t interact is because,” green eyes closed for a moment before looking up at Kyle, showing him her own demons,” it because I’m terrified of people and the harm they cause.” Her fingers stopped messing with the piece of grass and the air was silent. It felt like a huge weight was lifted from her shoulders, though she wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to understand. She thought she’d be scared telling things like this, but her demons were at peace when the lion man was with her. She didn’t want to look up to potentially see any expression on his face. Was he judging her?

[Kyle Stockholm]

"We're so different," Kyle said after a moment of silence, "but so the same." He thought a moment, pressing his forehead against his knees and feeling the fabric rub across his skin. Eyes closed, he sniffed a couple times from having a chilly nose and listened to the forest and the crack of the fire. Thoughts of this girl, this girl sitting beside him, walked across his brain like it was nothing. Thoughts of her past and how she hid it, thoughts of his own past and how he too hid it. They both had their masks, and it was nice, to him at least, to take it off for once.

"You're afraid of people because of the harm they cause," he repeated, putting his left hand out with his palm facing up, "And I'm afraid of my brain because of the harm it causes," he added, mimicking the way he'd put out his left hand only with his right. "You don't talk to people because they might harm you, and I talk to as many people as possible to get out of my own mind," he said, the snorted. "I guess opposites really do attract, huh?"

"But we're not so different, really. I'm not as fine as I might seem, and neither are you. We're both battling here, aren't we?"

When he'd finished his little moment of enlightenment, Kyle turned the way Trista had and faced her, even copying the way she was sitting. "I'm sorry about your boyfriend and your father," he said with a soft smile, the sort of smile you give when you hand someone a 'get well soon' card. "That made you who you are, though," he added, a bit firmly. "And I like who you are. I wouldn't change a thing about you."

Looking down at his lap, Kyle let out a heavy sigh and put his hands on his face. The fact that she'd just spilled her entire life to him was tugging at his conscience. He couldn't just sit here and leave out half of his story. She'd willingly told him about two abusive relationships with two people you're supposed to be able to trust the most. That was a pretty big deal. Who was he to hide anything else from her?

"I've, uh.. I also have depression," he said, his voice getting quieter as he neared the end of the sentence. In fact, it got so quiet she probably barely heard what he said. "Its not so bad," he added quite quickly, louder than the first part. "I'm really fine. I'm really okay." He'd been hoping that might lift something off his shoulders. He thought maybe by admitting this, he'd feel a bit better about it. Talking about everything else had made him feel closer to her but this... this made him hurt. Why, he didn't know. But suddenly, Kyle's eyes had sunk to ground and his knees were back at his chest as his hands wrapped tight around them, fingers locking into his biceps and squeezing tight. Biting his lower lip, Kyle pressed his face into his knees a bit too forcefully and accidentally let out a small squeak of a sob. There were no tears, but it felt like there were. His eyes stung as he pinched them shut and he felt his hands shakily pulling at the sleeves of his coat. One let go, though, and moved to crawl under his hat, fingers searching for hair and pulling it hard when they found it. In a downward motion, Kyle tugged his head further into his legs as his breathing became deeper, harder.

There were no words.

[Trista Kline]

The silence wasn’t empty, or awkward in anyway. It was a confirmation that two souls, seemingly different, weren’t alone. She felt at ease though, in the silence of the forest where nothing but the animals were among them. Her fingers had long dropped that blade of grass and were gripping the caps of her knees. It was just simply to anchor herself, mentally she was a little flighty. Anywhere else she’d be locked away in her mind, and probably in her closet. It was her safe zone, away from the world, but in the forest she didn’t feel so lost. It might’ve been due to the fact that Kyle was in her presence. It was easy to forget where she was when he was around.

It was odd, that they both were afraid, but for different reasons. But fear was fear regardless, and sometimes fear turned to panic. She tilted her head to the side slightly when it came to his mind. He viewed it as dangerous, and she saw it as beautiful. It was funny how the ‘opposites attract’ analogy really worked. “Battling, huh?” she asked, more to herself,” but what happens if we lose the war?” She feared that she’d never be able to live a happy life if she was afraid of the world. What if she never learned to trust someone, like she trusted Kyle? It was off, but she didn’t know if it was possible.

Now facing each other in the darkness of the night with nothing but a fire illuminating their features seemed something right out of a movie. His smile held a different meaning, it had a message that she understand, and all she could do was nod in understanding and acknowledgment. Her heart skipped a beat for what he said next. It wasn’t the kind where a girl gets butterflies in her stomach and falls head over heels. It was just that she’d never heard anyone say something so genuine. It made her feel more human than ever before. Is this what it was like to actually have a friend?

She’d noticed before that he’d only said two out of the three things he’d mentioned. She hadn’t pushed for the last reason, but it would seem now that he was going to tell her everything. Tonight there were no secrets, just the two of them. And as he continued on she started to really put the picture into place. Before her was someone who put a mask on for the world, where he kept such a vulnerable part of him locked away. But didn’t she do the same? She didn’t have a mask, she hid behind her silence. It all seemed to happen in slow motion had he seemed to shrivel right before her eyes. She looked at him with slightly wide eyes and rose up to her knees. Looking down, she could see it all. She inched forward and slowly wrapped her arms around his form, and she held him.

And she stayed like that, the shaking boys wrapped in her arms with her chin resting above his head. Her grip tightened around him slightly, and she realized just how fragile he really was. The world didn’t understand, but she did and she wasn’t going anywhere. She didn’t know any words to help, because what she did know was the power of silence.

[Kyle Stockholm]

He hadn't been crying. Sitting in his own rolled up manner, Kyle kept his face clear of tears. But the moment he felt her touch, the moment she wrapped her arms around him... tears came like she'd pulled them right from his eyes. Within seconds, his cheeks were stained with hot tears and his eyes burned more as he fought the blur. He hadn't noticed how much he'd been shaking until her arms were there holding him in, and his hands were shaking at his chest now. Pained sobs broke the silence every now and then; ugly, pained screams. Anyone near by might think he'd been stabbed with the way he broke the night with his voice, or lack of one.

It took a good minutes for him to calm down. With the demons rushing between his ears and out his eyes, things were out of focus and Kyle found it hard to get grounded. Time passed, though, and a song found his mind. It cradled it, like Trista cradled him, and lulled sweet nothings to smooth the bumps in the road. He'd been shaking, but now he was rocking. Slowly and softly, along with the beat, Kyle had begun to rock back and forth. A moment later and he was humming. Still crying, it wasn't as pretty a hum as he could muster. But it was helping. Another five minutes and he'd stopped crying, stopped sniffling. Now he only rocked, humming into Trista's shoulder.

"I, uh.." he tried, but his voice was still a little shaky. Hands unclenched, he placed them upon the blanket and squeezed the fabric up between his fingers. "Thanks," he said, avoiding eye contact. He didn't want her to look at him now. Not with red, puffy eyes. Not with tear trails on his skin and not with his lips hanging downward, still quivering. The rocking continued and he didn't fight her grip, but he kept his head down. Reaching a hand up, Kyle pulled his hat forward on his head again to hide where he'd practically ripped the hair from his scalp. He hadn't made any permanent damage, but it was certainly tousled and hurt a little bit. Sniffing, he ran a finger beneath his nose then returned his hand to the blanket.

Snorting at himself, Kyle said, "BPD at finest," then sucked his lower lip in and kept it there with his teeth.

[Trista Kline]

In a matter or moments he seemed to suddenly release. Everything seemed to intensify, and could feel him shaking against her. She was scared; scared she wouldn’t be strong enough for the both of them. She wanted to be brave for him, because he had been brave for so long. She wanted to cradle him in her arms, like newborn. She wished she could prove there was nothing to fear, that they demons weren’t real. But they were, and they were dangerous and destructive. Her grip around him only tightened as his voiced pierced through the silence of the night. It made her chest clench, and she couldn’t do anything but bring the boy closer. It was as though she was physically trying to hide him away and keep him safe from the world, a world that just didn’t understand them.

Even though it appeared as though Kyle was calm, Trista knew better. There was still a war raging inside his mind, silence was usually a sign. She finally opened her green eyes as she felt his start to rock. A saddened expression had found its way to her face, because this was something she did when recovering from her nightmares. She rocked with him, continuing to support him. When the soft sound of humming, though extremely distorted, reached her ears, she simply closed her eyes again. In her mind the sound was pure and clean, beautiful all together. She didn’t care that her shoulder was wet, or the clouds had covered the moon. He was all that mattered, all she cared about.

Even as his hands relaxed, she refused to let him go. A part of her thought that if she pulled away, he’d be gone again in a heartbeat. She didn’t want to risk a chance like that, not when she could protect him. A part of her wondered if she was partially leaning on him for support. If he had been fine, she would’ve been the one in tears, in pain. If he was bothered by her contact, he’s pull away on his own. But for now, she wanted to keep him safe, or pretend she had the ability to. She was small and fragile too, but he needed someone to be strong. In a short period of time, she was ready to do anything for him, to protect him.

When he thanked her she didn’t reply, only tightened her grip around him slightly as to reassure him that she wasn’t going anywhere. Someone as beautiful as Kyle deserved the world, nothing but the best. She knew what it was like to be locked away from the world in a mind that only seemed to be understood by itself. Even as he hid himself away from her in her shoulder, she kept her eyes closed. Because in reality she didn’t want him to see the expressions on her face or the demons behind her eyes. In truth, she was hanging on by a thread, but she wanted to be strong for him. “Shhh,” she cooed softly, eyes opening to glance up toward the stars,” It’s okay. You’re safe… I’m here.” It sounded strange to say out loud, to correlate safety with being hidden away in her arms. One hand gripped the back of his jacket slightly, as though anchoring herself to him. “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered softly, a silent promise.

[Kyle Stockholm]

"I'm sorry I did that," Kyle spoke up a bit, sniffing and lifting his head to look out at the forest. He still hadn't made eye contact, but he at least wasn't staring at his legs or the ground. "I'm just, y'know.. glad I explained myself beforehand," he said with a little chuckle, trying to lighten the mood even if just the slightest.

It was moments like this that made Kyle hate himself. The fact that he couldn't control his emotions drove him wild because he could feel it. He knew when it was happening, he knew he should stop himself and, above all, he knew that there was nothing he could do. He'd tried before to stop it, he'd tried so hard to control the anger and the sadness and the fear. It never worked. It always only made it worse. So when things like this happened, he just had to let it go. And he hated that. Especially in front of others. But really, he'd been honest in saying he was glad he'd at least gotten to explain it to her. Who knows how freaked out she might've been if he'd just broken down like that in a completely inexplicable manner.

"BPD's a bitch," he said softly, lifting a hand to rub under his nose again and then finally turn to look at her. His eyes had cleared a bit, but there was no doubt that they were still red. They were feeling a bit dry, a bit itchy, so they were undoubtedly bloodshot. "Thank you for caring," he said softly after locking his eyes to hers. Dropping his eyes for a moment, Kyle let himself smile as he breathed deeply. He was calming back down, losing that low and coming back to normal levels of balanced emotion. "And thanks for staying," he added when he felt his heart rate drop.

Lifting his face a bit, Kyle found her green eyes again and looked into them. His little smile smirked a bit, and he chuckled lightly as he looked at her. Then, as more of a thank you than anything else, Kyle leaned forward and pressed a very light, very quick kiss against her lips. But just as quick as it had come, it went, and Kyle was back to staring at the fire.

[Trista Kline]

Her grip around him had relaxed, and her cheek was resting at the top of his head now. She was more at ease now, and he seemed to be doing better. She had almost forgotten where they were, but the sound of a bird had her back to reality. “Even if you hadn’t explained anything,” she said,” I’d still understand.” It was true, because demons like that still couldn’t fully be explained with words. Sometimes it took an episode like his to get a full grasp of just how serious it was. She was sure he’d see her demons emerge eventually, but tonight she was there for him.

She wondered how he was really handling it. He could say all the words he wanted, but she’d never see into his mind. He was avoiding eye contact, and she couldn’t get upset about that, after all she did it all the time. Some stories weren’t meant to be read, but experienced. Her hand had let go of his jacket and was slowly rubbing his back like you soothed a child. She didn’t know what to do; she wasn’t prepared for something like this. All she could do was go off of natural instincts and doing what felt right. Even after everything, she still viewed him a lion who was stronger and braver than the rest. He was the reason she could find enough strength to support the two of them.

As she felt him shift, her grab around him loosened even more as she leaned back. Her arms were hanging loosing around his shoulders, just in case she needed to hold him again. He wasn’t looking at her, but she could see his face. His eyes were red, obviously irritated. Without a thought she used her thumb to wipe away a stray tear. She slowly pulled her hands back and into her lap as his eyes locked with hers for just a moment. Beautiful, still so beautiful. She didn’t know what to say to him, and so she simply nodded her expression soft and understanding.

His eyes caught hers again, and she froze slightly. She couldn’t have prepared for what came next. In the blink of an eye his lips were on hers, then gone. She could only blink confused by his sudden actions. Had he just kissed her? She brought a slightly shaking hand up to her face and a delicate digit traced her lips. Even throughout her relationship with her ex, she’d never had such a gentle and meaningful kiss. It wasn’t romantic, or at least she didn’t think so, but it had a powerful message. She looked up into her lap, a closed mouth gentle smile on her face. “You’re welcome,” she said faintly, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks. She just wasn’t used to things like this. Human interaction was scarce, let alone human contact.