[Hanest] +Janitor's Closet.+ [/Hanest]

[Anna]

Ernest was beginning to realize that he wasn’t going to die trapped in the janitor’s closet. The iron grip around his lungs would never quiet disappear, always squeezing at the most inappropriate times, but as long as he was talking, or Haley was talking, the fear seems to ebb slowly away. His hand had fallen still, resting lightly on Haley’s chest, periodically clutching the fabric or relaxing, depending on when a jolt of fear decided to pop in for a moment.

The laugh had made him flush once again, but he was speaking more fluidly than he had ever done in the other’s presence. It seemed Haley had given him a door to speak openly and honestly, and with such an opportune chance, Ernest wanted to try to express himself in a way that he normally couldn’t. Express the things that were normally trumped by nerves and by fear of offending Haley.

He tilted his chin to look earnestly at the vague outline of Haley’s face, eyebrows knitting together. “I don’t – I don’t think you’re bad,” he insisted, and it was true. Sadly true. Haley would laugh if he could peak inside Ernest’s head to see just how easily all his wrongs were pardoned by his optimistic attitude. It would take a lot for Ernest to consider anyone a bad person. It had never happened before, and even Haley Badger hadn’t crossed that line yet. No matter how awful he treated the other, it was not enough to wipe away Ernest’s hope. “But,” he added, a little softer, still just as genuine. “I h-have given you a real try. And I will keep doing it. But I – I can’t help it, Haley. You just frighten me. I’m sorry.”

Once again, he waited patiently for the words to come out, feel the arm shift away for a moment, and then return. When it closed back over him, he caught loosely at his hand without thinking, much like he used to do back home when friends came to him for comfort. Perhaps Haley didn’t need comfort, but maybe it would help the words come out?

“I understand, I think,” he said. “But – But I don’t think you’re replaceable, or that I am, or that anyone is.” It was surprising how easily the words were coming from him now, how simple the dark made communicating. “I mean…I know God crafted me for a reason; if I could be – you know, replaced – then he wouldn’t have created me. Or you. You can’t be replaced because you’re meant to – to do something, to mean something to someone, to – oh, God.”

He stopped abruptly, a sudden image of the patient, polite look that Kida always assumed when he mentioned God surfacing in his mind, and he flushed. “I don’t – I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry. I just remembered that you don’t believe in God.”

[marriedinthesunx]

It was truly endearing that the very boy Ernest feared was currently acting as a piece of furniture for the timid seventeen year old. Those strong arms were locked around the book worm, holding him close and every now and then, those long dexterous fingers would stroke down that tired, hunched back. Haley didn't want to get into the mechanics about their little situation, but he couldn't help but notice just how perfectly his companion fit against him, cradled to his chest. The dark really didn't seem to pose as a threat anymore, but the fact that Haley was one of these threats and that the boy was talking to him without a whole lot of difficulty? It was interesting. Perhaps the smaller boy didn't realize what danger he honestly could be in. God, if he had no morals--this little situation would be taking a turn for the worst. Stripping that boy down wouldn't help either of them, he reckoned.

"You're not frightened of me," he decided at length, quite certain he caught a flash of his companion's eyebrows dart down. "I think it's a little more particular than that. Perhaps it's more of a fear of anyone aggressive, anyone who is more than willing to sweep you off your feet." Not that Haley was that kind of guy, but he reasoned this much. His confidence was something that was threatening, he understood how it could make such a timid soul so uncomfortable but, surely, it wasn't the mere act of being HALEY that made him oh-so frightening. Right about now the brunet really wanted to hope as much. "And that's real good of you," he said this was a smirk, "I'm glad you're generous to give out second, third and fourth chances." It really showed how the obnoxious third year wouldn't have consequences for his actions. Just perfect.


A yawn escaped his mouth, actually finding himself fall tired. The dark was soothing, the boy in his lap was warm, and the humming of the vents proved to act as white noise. However, the mention of God was enough to drive him out of his peaceful state. Somehow, he should have expected as much. The religious always wanted to shove God's will into every situation, there was no denying that. But instead of rolling his eyes, instead of groaning and making a fuss, he sat still, perhaps channeling Nakita's facial expression entirely. It was polite, which was unusual out of the notedly rude and opinionated eighteen year old. He could very well bring up his own side, crush the other's attempts at making him feel better but...that just was...that just wasn't worth it, was it?

Ernest Bruun was trying to comfort him, for reasons he didn't understand. No, he didn't need the comfort. He didn't rely on verbal comforts like the sheltered Catholic. He could deal by himself. The stop in Ernest's rambling was unexpected, as the other seemed to be on a rather swift role, as if putting a puzzle together and finding that only a few more remained. It was a rush to finish and...it was darling on the other, truly.

"Oh, hey, don't worry about it. It takes a lot to make me uncomfortable, I assure you."

The urge to smoke was astounding. Maybe he ought too.

Sound a couple of alarms and let his pet out.

But it seemed too soon.

[Anna]

Ernest liked to be touched. Not in that way, God no, but he liked the comforting feeling of fingers running up and down his back just like his mother used to do. When all was said and done, Ernest was still just a child, melting under anything soft or sweet or warm. Truly, once Haley got a full grasp on this concept and stopped allowing the silly need to be as pushy and manly as possible to get in the way, Ernest would be in trouble. Already, he had allowed thoughts of what a danger Haley was slip to the back of his mind, and concentrated instead on the more positive ones.

At the other's hypothesis, he straightened in the boy's arms, and instead leaned away to pull his knees to his chest. "I -- well, yes, that's partly it," he agreed politely, not wanting to argue, "but .. you do frighten me, Haley. Particularly. More than anyone else."

For while what Haley said was true, it was more than that. Ernest had been nervous around people his whole life. Particularly boys, and even more particularly, confident ones. But that was mere anxiety that he could deal with quietly. With Haley's forward nature, Ernest had no choice but to show his nerves colorfully for all to see. No choice but to be put on display and spilled out over the floor. Haley was a whole different plane compared to how other boys made him nervous -- nervousness didn't even begin to describe it anymore. He was frightened.

He angled his body toward him, fingers digging into his knees. It was admirable how easily things seemed to bounce off of Haley. How with everything he said, he achieved a casual grace that Ernest could never hope to possess. A small, uncomfortable frown tugged at his lips, but he brushed it aside.

"So," he began again in the voice Haley would probably begin to associate with his neverending, innocent questions, "what -- what does make you uncomfortable, then?"