Empty, Empty

Nathan burns when she kisses him. At least he thinks that's what it means to burn. He's lost and confused and so grounded that he's sure he'll fall right through the earth. His brain can't function and he's left staring at her and hoping that she doesn't fade away.

He starts stealing. He steals glances and words and pieces of her. He doesn't do it nearly as often as he wants to because she'd get suspicious. But one night, while they're at the docks, he high fives her and his world shifts. He has to turn away lest he give up the game. He breathes in crisp sea breezes and aging wood. He feels a thousand suns on his skin and a million butterflies in his stomach and his heart. He closes his eyes and breathes. He thinks he might be crying but he can't tell and he doesn't care.

He can't feel her and he knows now what that feeling in his chest was. He touches her, it, maybe and there's nothing and he's so scared. Maybe, tonight is full of maybe, but it's appropriate and maybe, it's not her, it's him. It was a fluke and he's destined to be empty. He kisses her and he knows, deep, deep where his memory and his tears and his feelings hide, he knows it isn't her. So he shoots it and it feels so very good because it had no right to take this from him. It had no right to take his hope.

Her hands are small and fragile in his. He doesn't know how to hold so he squeezes and he hits and her hands will hurt later and so will his.