It was a cool night. It wasn’t so cold that someone’s breath could be seen, but it was just cool enough that there was a tangible crisp in the air. The wind was only noticeable while walking, but it was a frigid breeze. The kind that would cling to your face for a little longer than what’s comfortable. And in the cool night, with the cold breeze, walking through the night-lit city of London, was Zander.

He had just left Lawrence’s house in a huff—one fueled by welling emotions. The moment he looked into Eliot’s eyes, he just couldn’t bring himself to break them. He wasn’t sure why, but he knew that if he answered his question, that those eyes would have nothing but tears in them. And he couldn’t stand that.

It was a new feeling for him, but one that’s not entirely foreign. Ever since he was told of Eliot’s supposed death, a weird jumble of emotions continued to plague him. Sure, he had always cared about his friends—and Eliot was no exception—but the kind of care that he felt recently was just a little different. He couldn’t quite place the word for it though. It was on the tip of his tongue.. It was right there. It was so close. It was just on the brink of understanding.

What is the word? he thought. What is the word? What is the word? What is the—

“Zander! Wait up!” he heard someone shout from behind him.

Turning around, he saw Eliot running in his direction, still haphazardly putting on his sweatshirt. It took Eliot a few seconds, but he eventually made it up to Zander. When he did, he had to pause for a few seconds to catch his breath.

“You…can’t just…walk away like that,” Eliot said, panting. “What was that all about? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” Zander lied, not making eye contact with his friend. “I need to go for a walk.”

He started to walk away once more. However, Eliot jogged up next to him and gave him a neutral smile.

“You’re not fine,” Eliot said. “It’s not like you to just leave in the middle of such an important conversation.”

Zander then turned down an alleyway. “Y-Yes it is,” he stammered.

“Come on, you know it’s not,” Eliot said, trying to move in front of Zander. The moment he did, Zander immediately looked away. With a look of gentle disappointment, Eliot said, “What’s wrong, Zan?”

“Nothing really. I…”

“Zander,” Eliot firmly said, “you can talk to me.”

They both turned another corner, dodging the main roads.

“It’s just…” Zander started to say, “I’ve been really confused and conflicted lately.”

“I know what you mean,” Eliot replied. “Confused about what?”

“Well, uh, you know. It’s about stuff and my feelings.”

“Feelings?”

“Yeah, uh feelings. But that’s not important. What I feel isn’t important.”

“Of course it is! How are you feeling?”

Zander did not reply for a while after that. Instead, he continued to swerve through the trash-littered side roads. He would occasionally glance at Eliot, but he couldn’t bring himself to ever look him in the eyes. What Eliot had just said was taking a long time to process within his mind. The moment he started to consider his own feelings—and not those that sat on the surface—uncomfortably began to make itself known to him. Something unfamiliar started to eat away at his own person’s facade, and he immediately shut it down. Rather than face that newfound feeling, he chose to turn down another alley that circled close to the main road.

After a few more minutes of lingering silence, Eliot once again spoke up.

“What’s going on?” he asked, with a bit more sternness in his voice. When he said that, he stepped in front of Zander, forcing him to stop in his tracks.

“What do you mean?” Zander nervously responded.

“You know what I mean. You’ve been acting strange today, especially after Vincent was brought up. Why’d you run away from talking about him? Did something happen?”

Zander’s face went on an expressive journey, mirroring the many different lines of thinking and excuses that he thought of. Eventually, it became too much and he just randomly said the next thing that came to his mind.

“I just needed some fresh air is all. I couldn’t stand being around the smoke of that cancer-stick any longer.”

“Zander that’s not—”

“Well what about you?” Zander asked, defensively.

“Me?”

“Yeah. Ever since you've awakened to that power, you’ve been acting differently. Every time we bring up Berserkir or the way you act when using him, you just brush it off. What’s up with that?”

“Well, I…” Eliot stumblingly said. “It’s been a lot to deal with, you know? I haven’t been able to control it, and because of that, people have died. That’s a lot to bear.” He then started to walk a bit slower, trailing a bit behind Zander. “ It’s even harder when it’s a power that makes you feel something that isn’t you. I mean, I, uh, I feel ways that aren’t who I am when I use it.”

“Are you sure about that?” Zander immediately responded.

“What?” Eliot asked, his mouth hanging a bit open. “What are you saying?”

Zander continued to walk forward, but with a bit more purpose behind his steps.

“I’m saying that, for as long as we’ve been friends, I’ve never really seen you get that angry. You’re always the one who’s been calming Vince and I when we get into fights.”

“Yeah…”

“When I saw you use your powers in Egypt for the first time, something about it felt oddly right. I don’t exactly know how to word it.”

“That’s a first,” Eliot half-joked.

Zander let out a small chuckle. “But seriously, you keep talking about this power as if it’s something completely foreign to you—like it’s something that isn’t a part of you. However, when I looked at you at that time, I felt like I was able to see the most genuine Eliot I’ve seen in a long time. And I’m not talking about the whole crazy thing or the fact that Berserkir has killed so many people.”

Stolen story; please report.

“Then what are you talking about?”

Zander took a pause to gather his thoughts. He knew that what he was about to say had weight behind it unlike anything that had ever come out of his mouth. Somehow, he knew that his words held great importance right now.

“I want to know how you truly feel right now,” Zander finally said.

Eliot stammered a bit with some nonsensical words before ultimately saying, “Well, uh, how I feel doesn’t really matter right now. This talk is about you and what’s going on with you and your feelings.”

Zander stopped walking. “Is it?”

“Of course it is!” Eliot yelled back at him. There was a tangible amount of irritability and fire behind those words. So much so, that the moment they left his mouth, he recoiled back in embarrassment.

“See what I mean?” Zander stated. “That was the most authentic thing you’ve said all day.”

“N-N-No it isn’t,” Eliot frantically argued. “That’s n-not who I am.”

Zander turned and finally looked Eliot in the eyes.

“Please don’t lie,” he said.

Eliot’s face got red and he clenched his fist as he replied, saying, “I’m not lying!”

“You are, though. Vincent may be too oblivious to ever see this, but for some reason, I’ve always been able to tell these things about you. I,” he paused. “I can tell that you’ve been lying for a long time, and it wasn’t until recently that I’ve really begun to notice. Maybe it’s because of the changes I’ve gone through and am still going through because of this messed up world, but it’s the easiest thing in the world for me to see when you aren’t being yourself. And it hurts me. I don’t know why, but my chest hurts when I see you hurt yourself by lying so much.”

“I’m not lying…” Eliot said, his face beginning to break. His typical tranquil demeanor started to erode away, leaving redness and tears in its wake.

Zander then grabbed Eliot’s shoulders with both of his hands. “Tell me the truth, El. How do you feel? Please be honest with me.”

Eliot broke away and turned his back towards Zander. “I…I can’t. I don’t have that luxury, unlike you.”

“Unlike me?”

Eliot took a couple steps away from Zander. “I’m sorry. I, uh, I don’t know what, um, I…”

Zander took a couple steps towards him. “It’s ok, El. You can be honest with me.”

Eliot turned around and yelled, “You’re telling me to be honest with myself, but I can tell that you’re hiding something too! You’re being a hypocrite!”

“El, I—”

But before Zander could finish his thought, Eliot continued his tirade. “If you’re not comfortable with being honest, then how can you expect me to be?”

There was a moment of stillness in the air. It was like the very wind paused and the atmosphere was weighed down by incredible tension. It was so thick and palpable that even a passerby could feel it. Eventually, however, Zander did speak up.

“You’re right,” he said. You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry, Eliot.”

Tears began to pour down Eliot’s reddened cheeks. “No, it’s ok. I just…” he started to say as he broke down. “I just want to say how I really feel.”

Again, Zander grabbed Eliot’s shoulders. This time, however, his touch was gentle. There was no tension nor impulse behind this physical gesture. The only thing behind it was pure care and instinct. In this semi-embrace, Zander’s oceanic, blue eyes stared directly into Eliot’s warm, brown ones. There was a silent connection that formed between them, lighting an invisible spark in each of their eyes.

With his mind finally at ease, Zander simply said, “You can.”

Instantly, there was a shift in Eliot’s face. At first, it came with obvious sadness and tears. It was much like a dam had been broken and the water was running free. However, as the river ran dry, that expression was replaced with something a bit different. It was like there were the embers of a starting fire beginning to burn behind his eyes, slowly stressing his face and pulling it taught.

After a few moments, Eliot finally spoke.

“I’m angry,” he said, “but I don’t want to be. Anger is evil. Anger leads people to do bad things. It’s not good to be angry. And that’s why I never…”

He stopped himself for a second. There was hesitance in his voice, but as his body began to shake more, that hesitance went away.

“I’m angry and I hate it. I hate it. I. HATE. IT. I hate that I can’t be angry; I hate how there are so many double standards everywhere; I hate everything!” He then clenched his fist and punched an alley wall. “I hate how fucked up everything is—this world, the people who live in it, and all the stupid rules that govern it.”

He pulled his fist away from the wall and looked at it.

“I’m just so pissed off. Why does everybody act like everything is alright? Why does everything have to suck? Why are there still people being hurt? God,” he said, still looking down, “I just want bad people to actually be punished for once.”

Zander began to reply, saying, “Is there anything—”

Completely ignoring them, Eliot continued on his sincere rant. “Why do I always have these red thoughts? I just want to be mad and I want to show my anger, but only bad people get that way. I know you once said that I’m not a bad person, but that can’t be true.”

He then took a deep breath and stood eerily still. His eyes glazed over, as if he was recalling something from years ago. After a few moments, he finally spoke again.

“If I get angry and try to fight back, then I’m the one in the wrong. That’s what my dad always told me. If we act aggressively, then we’re the ones who will be punished, because the system is always against us. We just have to take the beatings and take the name-calling, because it’s better than being seen as angry.”

With the last exhale of those last words, Eliot fell to his knees.

“Why is it like this? Why is everything so unfair? I hate it so much!” He pounded the ground with his fist. “I’m so fucking pissed off that I can’t do anything about it except smile and watch. Whenever I get mad, I just push it away, burying it somewhere deep inside of me.”

After taking a few sobbingly-deep breaths, he looked back up at Zander. “I just want to be angry. I just want to do something.”

Zander reached out his hand, saying, “And you can.”

Eliot tilted his head and just looked at him.

Zander continued to say, “We can do something about this place, and later on, about the world. We have the power to do so now.”

“But,” Eliot started to argue, “I don’t want to be like those I despise. My power is my anger and all it does is indiscriminately kill. It lashes out without restraint. That’s what bad people do.”

Still with his hand reached out, Zander replied, “It’s alright to use your anger—your power—as long as you don’t let it control you. Use your fury to motivate you to take action, but don’t let it guide those actions.”

Eliot just looked at him with tears once again returning to his drought-filled eyes.

“Why do you care so much?” Eliot asked. “Why are you still trying to comfort me? Why aren’t you seeing me as evil? Why aren’t you seeing me as everyone else like you sees me?”

Zander, without hesitation, said, “Because of everything I’ve gone through. I’ve learned so much from this journey already. I’m sorry for who I was in the past. I’m trying to be more honest and I’m working on moving past the horrible things that have been implanted in me since birth. But it’s a continuous process. I’ve learned just how wide the world is and how varied people are, but I’ll continue to keep striving to be better.”

Eliot reached up and grabbed Zander’s outstretched arm. “If you’re trying to be more honest, then tell me what’s been bothering you. Tell me how you really feel.”

As he pulled Eliot up towards him, he thought back to his argument with Vincent. His heart began to pound faster and his head began to get hotter. When thinking about that static word, it started to reform and become clear again. This time, however, he didn’t resist the truth—he let the word come to life.

Looking deep into Eliot’s eyes, he felt a gentle wind blow through, sweeping his hair to the side. Even still, his focus never waivered off of Eliot. After a few more serene seconds, he opened his mouth and spoke that once-static word.

“Love,” he said.

“Love?” Eliot repeated.

“Yes, I love you.”

Eliot’s face blushed and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Zander…” Eliot longingly said.

“Eliot, I—”

And before either of them could speak another word, they both moved in and kissed each other. There was a mutual tug of emotions that brought them together at the same time. Neither of them initiated it, but both of them wanted it.

Their soft lips continued to touch and their eyes remained closed, savoring the moment of peace and love that they were sharing. With their hearts beating at the same time, resonating with the same rhythm, they stayed in that embrace.