literature

Wasted

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Literature Text

He can see her wasting away. He knows. But she's everything he needs. So he doesn't say anything.

He's never regretted anything more.

-

"Noel. I am looking you in the eye, and telling you to get help."

"What are you even talking about Ju? Everything's fine." He keeps walking down the hallway of the apartment, using it as an excuse to avoid Julian's eyes.

His friend suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, wraps a large hand firmly around his arm, just above his elbow, and spins him around, leaving no room to escape. "What I'm talking about, Noel, is that this is killing the both of you. You know I had Mike 'round my house the other day, crying? Look, we all love you, and Sky, but that's part of the reason this has. To. Stop."

Noel's eyes still dart around Julian's face, trying to avoid his earnest eyes as best he can. The worst part is that he knows it's all true. But in an astounding act of mental trickery, like something in 1984, he's managed to convince himself he doesn't. It lies dormant at the back of his mind, and hearing all this from Julian brings it closer and closer to the surface, waiting for inspection.

He fights out of the older man's grasp and turns away. "I don't know what you're talking about. Look, can you leave? I don't want Sky getting upset."

Julian makes a noise of utter frustration, but also, Noel thinks, desperation. He doesn't want to do this to them, he knows they just love him like he loves them, and he'd do the same thing and the more that would undoubtedly come if situations were reversed.

But he needs Sky like he needs to breathe, and in all honesty, he loved her first.

-

She's like a flower. Sometimes he thinks he'll break her, like she's made out of finely spun sugar, the most delicate things he's ever encountered. He knows – has known her longer than he's known his brother – that underneath that she's a brave, strong person.

He wants to say something; like that he hopes she doesn't think he expects her to be this way, because he'd love her all the same if she weren't like this.

And then she gives him that smile, grey eyes shining, dimple in the corner of her lips, all teeth and joy.

So he curls his hand around the back of her neck, ignores the fact he can feel the notches in her spine even with such a light pressure, and takes some of the smile for himself, feels her exhale into his kiss and her arms curl around his neck.

-

It's incredibly selfish, he thinks, on reflection. Not of her – she isn't capable of selfishness, his princess of light – but of him. It's selfish to need her like he does, because what about Mike, and Julian, their parents even?

He doesn't mean to fall into it with her. Only that they go out before dinner time and don't come back till after breakfast time, then go to bed and sleep and fuck as they see fit until after lunch. And then do it all again.

On the days they don't go out, they laze around watching telly. When he's curled behind her on the couch, hand spread over her ribcage as they alternate between watching, dozing and foreplay – because that's what it is – he can't bring himself to move. It's selfish, he knows, but he wants her all the time. Because what happens when he's not here? When he has to be without her?

In his mind, Noel explains it away saying that it's to help with that. He knows his usually sunny disposition goes to pot when he doesn't have her – he's like a child without it's favourite toy, it's safety blanket – so by extension, that must mean that if he has her in large amounts before this inevitable distance, it might make it better.

It never does, of course, but it's all about excuses.

-

He's a Camden prince and she's his princess. Aptly named too; she is the Sky; everywhere a person could ever go, all there in front of him to see, benevolent omnipotent ruler of their world.

Once, he said something. A joke, he thinks. And it was like a part of her shattered.

So he never said anything again.

He started then to live for the littler moments. Making her laugh, seeing her shining eyes. Holding her. Watching her walk around in nothing but a Boosh shirt (subsequently tearing it off her).

He's lived for them ever since.

-

It's ritual; get off the stage, congratulate everyone – ignoring the concerned looks and desperate glances, of course – head to his dressing room to try and come down. Call Sky.

They've done it every night of the tour she hasn't been there. It makes him happy knowing that she needs him as much as he needs her.

He reclines back on one of the chairs, sighing before reaching for his phone. When it starts to ring, pre-empting him, he grins, only to be annoyed when it's a different caller id on the screen.

"Russell."

"Oh, aren't you a charmer Fielding?" There is laughter in the other man's voice, and Noel hasn't seen him in a while, so he grins anyway.

"I have my moments. You got me all excited, I'm waiting for a phone call."

"The missus checking in on you?"

It's strange, but Noel could swear Russell's voice softened at mention of Sky. She met Russell before Noel did, through a promoter friend. It seems ages ago; so much has changed. "Something like that." He knows what's coming.

"…You know what I'm going to say." It's almost like Russell accuses him for knowing. Like he shouldn't. Or better yet that it shouldn't be there in the first place.

"I…"

"She's sick. You're going the same way. The both of you need to get out while you can. Not everyone gets lucky."

"Like you." Noel feels like a child again, the petulant note in his voice evident, even as soft as it drops.

"Please."

Russell hangs up.

Noel sits and stares stonily at the mirror, turning his phone in his hands. He thinks for a second, and then calls the first speed dial.

He gets Sky's voicemail, and throws his phone down on the floor.

-

"Do you want to say anything?" Julian drops his mouth close to Noel's ear to ask.

Noel stares at the fresh earth; it's not right, it's so wrong. Sky. Sky.

He looks to one side, sees Russell in a suit and tie; that isn't right either, for completely different reasons. The other, Julian, waiting patiently.

Noel opens his mouth, the prince ready to address the people.

The words get stuck in his throat, fighting amongst the selfishness that lead here, the guilt and torment, the wanting to just hear her. To say something for her.

He looks down at the ground, fixating on the spot where the tear that just fell from his eye pooled. He falls to his knees and everyone clusters around him.

Without the princess, the prince has fallen.
More Noel!!! Alright, backstory on this; wrote it a while ago as fanfic, and then we had some writing piece in English. I submitted a non fanfic, slightly editted (no hinting at sex) version and got full marks :) But yeah, love writing Noel, even if it's angsty stuff like this. He's a fanfic writers dream... Also brief appearance of Rusty cause we all love him.
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OnyxWildcat's avatar
Holy mother of... That was intensely beautiful! Wonderful writing! Even though I have no idea what this lil fanfic is based off of (Which I'm sure you'll tell me) I still couldn't tear my eyes away!