Tryle - Wandering

[Kyle Stockholm]

Kyle was happy when Trista grabbed his jacket; he took that as permission and thought maybe this didn't have to be over so soon. But the tug pulled a bit too hard and he was soon losing his balance. Doing his best to play it cool, Kyle dropped one hand from her face and put it on the ground beside her, falling in towards her and taking her to the ground. It had all happened very quickly, not very suave at all. But somehow they'd managed to hold the kiss, and Kyle didn't intend on breaking it any time soon. Not after that feat.

On his side, Kyle kept his head raised above hers as the kiss deepened. A gentle touch of his left hand trailed from her cheekbone to her temple and back into her hair. The last time he'd kissed a girl like this was far out of his memory. In fact, it might not have even ever existed. Really, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he'd never felt a thing like this. This was new, this was definitely new. And he liked it.

It took a little while, but when the kiss finally ended, Kyle raised his face just slightly above hers and ran his hand back through her hair again, watching his fingers part the strands. She had beautiful hair, something like wheat, but lighter. It was the color of what he considered to be beauty. If a goddess existed somewhere, her hair was this color. Her eyes this green, her lips this soft. Trista was perfect. "Was that.. okay?" he asked softly, his eyebrows almost sad as he looked back to her eyes and then smiled softly, biting at his lower lip yet again.

[Trista Kline]

Trista didn’t even open her eyes as she realized they were falling back. The grip on his jacket only tightened, supporting her body as her back made contact with the blanket. Through it all, their lips never left the other, something she was glad for. She wasn’t concerned with the amount of air in her lungs, sneaking little breaths here and there. She didn’t want the sensation to stop, and even though she was well aware of her position on the ground, she felt like she was floating. Being this close to him felt right, this felt right. Everything was in balance, and everything made sense. The demons were quiet, and her mind was filled with only him. He surrounded her, completed her.

Her past relationship had never had a moment like this, never. It was so innocent without an ulterior motive built in, it was pure. She was leaning into his touch, and for the first time she let someone touch her hair. Her head was a sensitive place to her, and she never let anyone play or touch her hair. Yet here she was, letting Kyle freely run his hands through it without a second thought. Everything he did felt right, and anything he did, she’d let him. Her grip on his jacket didn’t let up, body wishing to close the distance between the two.

When the kiss ended, her eyes remained close as though basking in the moment. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to catch her breath. Finally her eyes closely opened, glazed over in a daze. The grip on his jacket loosened, and her hands trailed up to cup his face. His lips were full and exceptionally soft to her. Her eyes flickered from his lips to his eyes. She was still below him, panting softly with slightly opened lips. “It was perfect,” she said tenderly,” you’re perfect.” Her thumb was rubbing his cheek and she couldn’t ignore how their hot breath mingled. Her body was hot and she felt suffocated in her jacket in the heat of the moment. Could he see the lovely blush splashed across her cheeks?

[Kyle Stockholm]

Kyle scrunched up his nose and smiled when she said he was perfect. "Aha, I dunno about that," he said softly, then rolled over onto his back and put his knees up. Staring up at the stars, Kyle concentrated on the way his chest rose and fell in uneven patterns. He'd never noticed it before. Trista seemed to breathe so calmly, so perfectly and in such a beautiful rhythm. His breaths were short and quick; each one varied in length and depth, but stayed relatively fast paced. He found that odd, but stopped paying attention to it when he dropped his hand from his stomach and found hers. Fingers overtop of hers, Kyle let them lace ever so gently before realizing what he was doing and pulling them back.

"Sorry," he uttered instinctively, then immediately wished he hadn't apologized. He said sorry too much. Kyle, thought incredibly impulsive with a 'no shits to give' sort of persona, was probably one of the most apologetic people you could meet. He'd be running you over with a shopping cart one second, and apologizing the next. He'd slap you across the face, then say he was sorry and give you a hug. Just because he was impulsive, didn't mean he didn't have a heart. If he at all felt that he'd hurt you or made you feel bad, you best believe he'd apologize. But even now after taking her hand when he felt he maybe shouldn't have, he wished he hadn't apologized so quickly.

Regardless, he'd done it and taken his hand back up to his stomach where it rested just above his hips. "Are you cold?" he asked randomly, a kind of place holder so he wouldn't have to deal with what his mind was buzzing about and what the white silence was doing to his ears. "Or uh... do you want another s'more or something...." He'd never been good at this whole 'romantic' thing. Was this even romantic? Was it romantic to make out beneath the moon in the forest with a girl (or for Trista, a boy) you'd technically only just met? What was this? What were they?

Did this make them anything other than friends?

Pals?

It hurt to think about.

[Trista Kline]

And just like that he was out of her hands and by her side. She kept her hands up in the air for a moment as if trying to remember the way his face felt cradled in her palms or the texture of his face under her fingertips. Eventually her hands fell to her sides, the hand furthest from him lying across her stomach. She found hear him breathing as she stared up into the stars. They seemed to dance across the night sky, as though alive in the moment. Her heart was a flutter and her mind buzzing about in a fit of emotions. It was easy to feel so many things around him because here next to him, she felt safe.

She didn’t flinch away when his hand found hers and even went to grip it as their fingers slowly interlaced. But just like his first kiss, it was over with and gone. Her hand felt cold and empty, and she could only stare confused up at the stars. Every time he apologized she took it as a sign of regret. Did he regret the moment that they had just shared? She didn’t, she missed it. But that was the difference between the two.

Her hand balled into a small fist as if gripping something that had already vanished, out of reach. She didn’t know what she’d done wrong and her mind was frantic trying to find the reason. She went to reach for his hand, but he’d placed it on his stomach, and she simply let her hand fall back to the cold earth. She wondered if she should just leave, perhaps he’d be better off without her. But the though made her chest ache, something she hadn’t felt in a while. She didn’t think she could become so attached in such a little amount of time. She ignored the warning in the back of her mind that told her she was going to end up heart, but her heart was practically yelling for her to hold on as tight as she could to the only good thing she’d ever had.

She closed her eyes, trying to steady the beating of her heart and the chaos in her mind. So when her mind told her to take flight, she stayed. She’d seen the other females that he took interest in, and she knew she would never be one of those girls. But right now, right now she could pretend. She could pretend that he belonged to her when her heart already belonged to him. She turned on her side, facing him, her body pressed slightly pressed against his side. “Just a little,” she said softly, curling up to his side. Her body had been on fire when they’re lips touched, but now everything felt cold and confused. She wanted to hold him again, to be wrapped up in his warmth. She longed for that feeling of being complete, or the way her fingers seemed to lock perfectly in between his. She looked up to him, trying to find the answers.

[Kyle Stockholm]

When Trista responded that she was a little cold, Kyle rolled onto his side to face her. To his surprise, she was already there, pressing up against him. He felt really bad suddenly for having completely removed himself from her so quickly... She seemed to only want to be close to him. "Here," he said, reaching a hand up to remove his hat then hand it to her. He wasn't sure it would do much good, but its all he had that he could take off and give to her. He wished he had more to give her.. in terms of clothing to keep her warm and love to keep her here. Why was it so hard?

"Y'know Trista..." he couldn't finish the thought. He hadn't really thought through what he was going to say in the first place. So, he snuggled close to her. Their foreheads met again and Kyle kept his mouth closed so as to not breathe on her. Eyes closed, he let his mind wander a little. Sometimes, it needed to let go. And this seemed like an okay time. Pressed against a very important girl, back to a fire, alone in the middle of nowhere without a care. Now was a good time.

The first thought that unearthed was Trista. He couldn't get her out of his head. The way her lips felt against his, the way she looked at him, the way she made him feel strong and like he could talk about his head without being judged. He'd thought he'd had this connection with Gillian, how he could speak about his problems and cry around her and not care. But it was different with Trista. He felt a connection to her, like they were the same. So different, yet so similar. She'd hidden in her silence for years, and he'd hidden behind a mask. Silence broken and mask forgotten, they were together as one. And that felt right. So why was it so hard to admit anything to himself? Why was it so hard to say that maybe this girl was something different than all the rest?

Because it was foreign.

Such a feeling, such a different feeling of attraction, admiration, couldn't be real, could it? He didn't understand it. It didn't make sense in his head. He'd never before felt 'love', he'd never worried about a girl's feelings or about her favorite food or what she liked to do when she was trying to fall asleep. He'd never paid attention to how a girl's lips formed a word or how he brow furrowed when she was concentrated on something she loved. He'd never looked at a girl and thought "wow. i could spend my life with you".

So he was scared. He didn't know this feeling, he didn't know how to deal with it. And like everything else he was afraid of, Kyle didn't think he could deal with it. And frankly, he wasn't sure he wanted to.

Eyes open, Kyle looked at Trista with a sad pout then looked down at his hands, crunched up at his chest. Hers were free, and he wanted to take one. But he couldn't. He just couldn't do it. The anger he felt towards himself showed, and the tics were back. Within seconds, his left arm had twitched into a fit and Kyle could see nothing else to be done then turn away. Rolling to his other side, he must've looked like a stroke victim writhing on the floor. Noticing, he sat up and held his arm, his knees back up at his chest again like before.

Well done, Kyle. Night ruined.

[Trista Kline]

When he flipped over on his side they were finally eye to eye. She could get lost in his for days, and they were enough to last a lifetime. She liked being this close to him, calmed her soul. She normally didn’t like human contact or interactions, but he was the exception to everything. He bent the rules of what she thought she knew. Everything he did seemed right, and he was altering the very way her heart and mind spoke. She reached up and grabbed the hat, before slowing placing it on her head,” thank you.” She was a quiet person, everything she said for him and him alone. She could lie like this forever if she wanted to. All she ever wanted was be by his side and help him fight his battles.

She looked up when he spoke her name, something that made her heart flutter. It was such a simple and boring name, but when he said it, it came to life. She waited for him to finish his sentence, but it never came. What had she hoped for? Did she really think he’d come out and spill the most heartfelt confession? Surely she wasn’t such a fool as to actually think that would happen. But she could dream. His warmth was much appreciated when he snuggled in closer and once again their foreheads rested upon the other. All she wanted was to be close to him, and their noses brushes against the other in light eskimo kisses.

She wondered what he was thinking about in that beautiful mind of his. It was moments like this that made her realize that maybe the world wasn’t such a bad place. The world could be a beautiful place, because someone like Kyle existed. She hadn’t noticed her hand cup his face and caress his cheek bone. He was just so handsome and perfect, even if he didn’t see it like that. She wondered if this is what she was supposed to have felt with her ex, a feeling of being alive and understood. She had only felt a sense of duty to her past relationship, and because he made it appear as though leaving wasn’t an option. But with Kyle, she was ready to stay for the rest of her life just because she wanted to.

Trista hadn’t closed her eyes even when he did, drinking in the moment and his features. But when he finally opened them his expression changed to one of sadness. She was immediately concerned and confused. What had he been thinking about in that head of his? Was there fear in his eyes? Green eyes searched for answers and were only greeted with the sight of his back when he turned around, away from her. She placed a hand on his back when his muscles started to contract and pull on their own. His demons were waking, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been the cause of all of it. “Kyle…” she spoke his name softly, sitting up on an elbow.

It didn’t take long before he was back in his previous position holding himself. Her heart clenched, believing she’d caused this. It didn’t matter how she felt towards him, if she was causing him more pain than anything else, shouldn’t she let him go? Wasn’t that the true definition of love? Love. Was this that four letter world? She didn’t know, and it scared her. Was this what her mind had tried to warn her about? “I’m sorry,” she whispered, sitting up, blaming herself, but she couldn’t just let him stay like that. She had to do something, wanted to do something. She removed her jacket, thankful she’d worn a thick sweater, and placed the article of clothing around his shoulders. She wrapped her arms around him again, but this time it was different. It wasn’t like a mother cradling her child anymore, but like a lover trying to heal.

She had sat up a little too quickly, and the momentum was pulling back down taking Kyle with her. There was one arm wrapped around the back of his head, acting like a pillow against the ground of him. The other hand was buried in his at the back of his head, pulling him in. Her lips were resting on his forehead where she placed soft kisses. She hummed softly, to the tune of the song he’d just sung to her. She didn’t have an amazing vocal like he did, but it was enough for the moment. She went between kissing his forehead to brushing their noses together. She didn’t know what to say, and all she could do was hold him.

[Kyle Stockholm]

Kyle wanted to tell Trista it wasn't her fault. He wanted to tell her not to apologize and not to worry. He wanted her to stop worrying about him. He was a handful, and she didn't need his well being on her mind. Especially not if she thought she caused things like this to happen to him. Truth be told, she was indeed the cause of this fit. Well, not technically. His own emotions were the cause. But they were emotions brought on by her, emotions she made him feel. It was all very confusing and only made him shake more under the protection of her embrace.

When they fell back to the ground, Kyle felt himself shaking across his shoulders and down each arm. His breathing had gone from relatively to incredibly uneven and he found himself short of breath. Was this hyperventilating? He'd never done that before. He'd never felt like this before. He'd had fit after fit cased by tic after tic, but this one was different. This wasn't his usual BPD explosion. It didn't come from an action or a person, it came from a thought. Something inside his own head, an emotion he was supposed to believe was good for him.

Love.

And in that moment, Kyle was afraid. Did he love her? No, this couldn't be love. Love wasn't supposed to do this to you. Love wasn't supposed to send you spiraling down, reaching out for help and shaking, crushed by your own mind. His lungs felt like they might explode and he was sure she could hear his heart beating faster and faster in his chest as she pulled him in closer. Kyle tried to calm himself, feeling Trista's kisses against his forehead. He tried to tell himself it was okay, everything was fine. But everything wasn't fine and he couldn't stop this shaking, this aching. He couldn't stop.

"Trista," he squeaked, the simple word riddled with voice cracks as he buried his head into her neck. He felt hopeless, like a child. Here he was, a grown boy, shaking helplessly on the ground and curling into utter nothingness at the hands of a girl he might very well love. There it was again... love.

This couldn't be love. It hurt too much.

[Trista Kline]

Trista felt selfish, and she should. She was to blame for this, and yet she didn’t leave. She stayed put with the boy she had fallen in love with in her arms. If she truly loved him she’d distance herself from him, let him heal. She was obviously causing more harm by sticking around. But she couldn’t pull herself to do it, couldn’t leave him like this. He would eventually find a girl that wouldn’t make him burst into fits or make him sad. It ached though, the thought that she wouldn’t be that girl. She should’ve just assumed from the beginning that Kyle was far too perfect for someone like her. Who would want someone like her with red in her ledger?

She was damaged goods, something she’d live with for the rest of her life. Why would Kyle want something like that? He was perfect in her eyes, and she was… not. He made her feel strong, and it hurt to think that this would all be one sided. She wouldn’t leave him, ever. She’d stay, even if she had to watch him fall in love with another girl, or date whoever he pleased. It wasn’t her place, and she’d be the one to put her heart through the shredder for the sake of his happiness. It wasn’t her place to put her happiness before his, because he deserved to be happy. If he was happy… then it was enough for her too.

When his breathing became even more uneven she could only hold his tighter. She placed ghostly kissed along his forehead as his face became buried in her neck. “Shhh,” she cooed, eyes shut. She wanted to protect him for the rest of her life, to bring a smile to his face again. Her heart clenched when he spoke her name again, this time broken. She held him closer to her, trying to block out the world. “Breathe, Kyle,” she instructed him softly, “come back to me. Follow my voice.” She was rocking him in her arms slightly, in time with her own deep breathes, trying to help him find his rhythm.

Trista’s heart knew that come tomorrow, none of this would matter. Wasn’t that how it happened? She was there to fill the void momentarily, but he’d find another girl soon. Those shallow girls couldn’t appreciate his beautiful mind, they couldn’t. They wouldn’t understand his demons and wouldn’t hold him his time of need, but she would. “It’s okay,” she tried to reassure him. She’d be there when they roared their angry heads, and she’d hold him time after time.