richspoiledrotten: (68)
Elijah Sebastian Hawthorne ([personal profile] richspoiledrotten) wrote in [personal profile] burnyoudown 2021-12-14 04:02 am (UTC)

kavinsky lives and eli moves to aglionby

[Elijah might come off as sharp and uninterested in the people around him, but it was more complicated than that. So when the 4th of July party went to Hell, he wasn't one of the people just standing there like a moron, praying it was all a trick. And he'd watched a boy die in flames not too long before, and like fuck was he going to do it again.

Somehow a dragon made of flames and a car crash that had been all wrong didn't seem so different, really.

He didn't get there in time to help, having to fight his way through the crowd, and by the time that he made it to the white Mitsubishi, Skov had already dragged the boy down. So he did what he could- offered a couple pills and a silver flask that looked like the sort half the boys at Aglionby hid in their lockers. But it tasted like warmth, like sunsets, something that healed you from the inside out. It tasted like dreams. It was enough to make the sort of questions the paramedics asked about fire safety and not what the fuck happened here? It was enough to make sure that Kavinsky was okay, whether or not he really wanted to be.

And then he vanished back into the crowd, growling something about take care of him yeah? to Skov before he walked away. Elijah had no interest in sticking around to see what the authorities made of it all. Last time he'd punched a cop, and he didn't have any friends here that could quiet that sort of thing.

It's still summer, so there's no easy way to track him down, find his face in classes, his name on the dorm list. Even the flask he left behind doesn't have his initials on it like most Aglionby assholes, instead it just bears a Latin quote:

"Extraneus hic ego sum
quia non intellegor ulli."

Which translates to I am a stranger here, because I don't understand anyone, a variant on Ovid, for anyone that's kept up on their classes. Instead, the first time they actually meet is at Kavinsky's substance party -- his first after the shitfest of the 4th. Elijah is a couple drinks in, bruised knuckles from a scuffle that wasn't quite a fight, his brown eyes still a little red-rimmed from the joint he'd smoked at the beginning of the night. He seems to hold it well, though: not his first time, surely.

He isn't the sort of boy that's good at making friends, but he slips between the clusters of people, hangs out for a while. The alcohol and the drugs help, makes it a little less obvious that he's different, makes him a little less cruel. But he still has to duck away with the excuse of finding another drink or something when he boils too hot, wants to punch people in the face because they've spent the last twenty fucking minutes talking about some reality tv bullshit. So he's standing alone by the last of a smoldering fire, kicks the embers just to see the sparks glitter red on the air.

That's when he catches a glimpse of Kavinsky sitting on the hood of the same white car he'd watched a boy haul him down off of. He doesn't walk over to him, even if he wants to, even if something skips in his chest. There's still a misery that lingers in his veins that he doesn't know how to wash off. He almost wants to leave, climb into his car and drive too fast until he remembers how to breathe. He looks away, sudden, busies himself drinking from the red plastic cup someone had pushed into his hand.

He wasn't about to get caught watching when he didn't know what the fuck to say anyway.]

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