A Hidden Love

Inspo: a lover of history and a lover for technology

The sky poured its heart upon the Quinn Forest in heaps of daggers. Small in numbers but all so penetrating.

Each tree, elder or young, soaked up its cries happily and largely shielding the shadows below. A blanket of all kinds of green and the voices that you could only hear if you tried. Its branches had long formed the barrier decades ago, sheltering all those in need and providing secrecy from New Waltershire.

Everyone has secrets, things individuals do not want others to know. Especially in times where it was forbidden to do such things.

And those listening closely could hear the faint noises of doe and deer, frog and toad, bird and prey. Sometimes… You could hear two voices. One spoke in the language of love for the ancient world and the other spoke in advances of machines. Past and future. History and technology.

And on the rare occasion… you could hear them – well, simply existing. Bathing in one another’s presence, taking the present moment in and putting their ambitions to the side.

Present.

…

“Hey Thaddeus?” The boy whispered, his black locks swaying against the small rain droplets from the branches. His face, carved from marble, was dripping in moisture but he long ceased to care such thing; all he cares right now is Thaddeus.

The other boy – Thaddeus – simply hummed and continued to admire the droplets falling on them. His ruffled hair, chocolate in colour, and his freckles, glasses and faint scars were all dampened by the rain.

“Thaddeus, come on. Please don’t ignore me.”

The boy even reached out to caress Thaddeus’s arm.

And again, Thaddeus simply hummed.

“Please?”

At the plea of the other boy, he finally looked over his shoulder and sighed.

“Lance, if it’s about watches or whatnot, I’m not-”

Lance reached out to grab both of Thaddeus’s hands and moved between his legs.

“Just listen to me! Please… Please listen to me, Thaddeus.”

Lance’s eyes simmered with the passion of a smitten boy looking at his lover with a caress that even the world could not interfere. His blue pupils urged with the deepest depths and highest summits of beauty that could rival even the most detailed, the most informative, the most captivating history book Thaddeus could pick up.

Thaddeus himself was struck with the stupendous growth of tension between him and Lance. It was like looking into a pool situated in ruins with little clarity than the immense aura of allure. It urged him to dive in, to discover what lies beneath the water’s surface and see what treasures could be found. But is he as strong in his confidence as he is in his knowledge?

Is he ready to plunge in the waters that could drown him, or will he stay put like he has with other ruins?

After moments of buzzing silence, Thaddeus reached out to cup Lance’s face with both hands with a certain tentativeness that could be mistaken for love. Or maybe it is simply love.

“Fine… I’ll listen, and you’ll tell me what you want to tell me, Lance.” Thaddeus muttered in a low, revered tone.

Lance’s taunt face softened a lot, his eyes not glinting with plea and his brows no longer furrowed.

“I… I just wanted to say… Don’t leave me, Thaddeus. Please. I-I don’t know I can live in a New Waltershire without you; it wouldn’t be the same. And if you do go away, please, please, send letters. I don’t care if you won’t send me an email… Just, don’t forget me.”

For the lack of better words, Thaddeus was stunned. Gobsmacked.

Is this his way of proclaiming his love for me? Thaddeus thought to himself.

His heart swelled enormously, sending a tingling feeling all over his body. From scalp to toe. And it wasn’t the kind you would feel scared or itchy, no… It was out of unexplainable joy.

“Lance… Of course I will. I’m not going anywhere. Especially not from you.”

Lance practically lunged forward, embracing Thaddeus tightly against his chest.

It seemed like time itself let the two boys have a moment of pure intimacy, making the rain stop and the animals to give them privacy.

…

The sobs of the clouds began to dry up, leaving a clear sky in its absence. The birds began to lull their melodies across their expansive green, while the rest of Quinn Forest children began to go home. Back to their bricked houses with panelled windows, autumn of colours and the serenity that is ready to welcome them.

But not for two boys.

Not yet.

Their language barrier was no more, history and technology were not opposing each other, rather, complementing each other.

And if you look closely, you can see one make the move that maybe New Waltershire isn’t ready for to see; the black-haired boy embraced the other’s lips with his.