22 Dawn

"We've got to talk about what happened."

It's early morning, and I am tired, but I am awake in the Deadheads next to Minho. I can barely see him in the dim lighting. At this time, only the Runners should be awake. It makes it easy for me to stand next to him, and talk about secrets without anyone finding out.

"Really?" I laugh, not bothering to look at the boy. Instead, I focus my attention on a leaf hanging off a tree. My fingers graze it but I do not rip the green off of its stem. "You seemed really keen not to speak to me after Michelle almost got banished."

"I was trying to save her," he tells me, and I can tell he is slightly offended by my accusation.

From here I can make out all the individual lines on the leaf. I can seem the stem, and all the veins in the green of the tree. Is it called a petal? It looks as beautiful as the flower.

Somehow even a tree holds a universe. There is so much I want to see, and instead I am stuck here in a forest, with a boy who will barely give me the time of day.

"Trying to save her after she was saved?" I almost laugh but I can feel the burning in the back of my throat. "Look, I didn't expect you to come running to me, but you actively avoided me. I tried to find you."

In the silence I can hear the tension in his shoulders. The uneasiness in his skin makes me crack my neck. I'm trying to be mad, and frustrated. Why does Minho think he can just simply ignore me?

"I know."

It's not an answer I want to hear, and I doubt it is an answer he wants to say. I understand he doesn't have to want me, or to kiss me again, or whatever, but he can't just avoid me. We are trapped inside Walls, and while there may be a universe in between these Walls, there is an even bigger universe outside. Relatively, it would be nearly impossible for us to avoid each other.

He knows it too. He has been here much longer than I have. In fact, he knows more about how their whole system functions. Not that I care. There is much more to learn about than silly politics.

"Why?"

It's simple. Why has he been avoiding me? It's a question I can't help but ask. I imagine it's because of me. Sure, it possibly could be because of him, but I can hear his explanation now. It was just a spur of the moment thing, and it meant nothing, and he shouldn't have done it. Besides, his precious leader would never condone his actions, which means they were wrong.

That I am not the right choice to make.

I turn around to face him. He begins to choke for an answer out of his mouth but none ever comes. When I raise my brow at him, he raises one back.

"What do you want me to say?" There is a little bit of a pointed stance in his question, but he is genuinely asking.

What do I want him to say? Well, I want him to say so many things. I want him to say he sees the stars in my eyes, and feels the static in my skin. I wish for him to wish for me, in every shape and form and to crave my lips like they are his only salvation.

That's how I feel about him. I know I barely know him. In fact, I barely know anything there is to know at all. However, I know that when I see his eyes they look warm and content. He must be a good person, because he fought Gally on Michelle, and he stood up for me. He helped me in the Maze when I was alone, and saved me from a Griever. Maybe he doesn't crave the stars like I do, but he is willing to climb with me to see them. I think it's that which matters.

None of that is important if that is not who I am to him. I am not a star, nor the need to explore. What I am, is a girl, in a place surrounded by boys. No matter how I feel, I have to understand that I am a new and shiny object, one that attracts attention but has no permanent place. There is no single part of me that doesn't want him to say that he wants to be with me.

Even though I want him to say the truth.

"You're the one who said we have to talk." I answer, shrugging my shoulders. "You found me."

He's a few feet away from me, and he steps closer so he can talk in a hushed voice. His body is still too far away for him to reach out and touch me, no matter how much I want him to reach forward.

He may have come and found me and dragged me out here, but I still am the one who asked him a question. I am still the one who begs for an answer.

"Look, you're only a Greenie," he begins. "You don't really know the Glade or how it works, and you may have seen a Griever but I don't think you understand the consequences of being banished."

"I definitely do." Where is he going with this? "I saw what they did to Michelle. They put a collar on her. Shuck, not that I like her but that is mad."

"Look, I'm saying I messed up when I kissed you."

I'm flustered. Not in the way that I want to be, in an embarrassed because he likes me, but in a flabbergasted that he is apologising. The last thing he needs to do is say he shouldn't have kissed me. I get that banishing is a big deal, but no one caught us. At least, not anyone I worry about.

Maybe this is his way of saying that he isn't interested in me. Maybe he is saying this so it is easy.

"First things first, I kissed you." I answer, and he steps closer when I say it as he shushes me. He reaches for me but I swat his arm away. "Second, we aren't going to get banished. Leo isn't going to say anything."

"Who's to say next time someone else won't see?"

I feel a grin playing on my face. He just gave himself away entirely. Minho laid all his cards on the table for me to read at my own leisure. Fact of the matter is, I am so very happy he did.

"Who said there was going to be a next time?"

He looks away off into the forest, and then down at the ground. I wait for the flush of pink to reach his cheeks but it never does. When he looks at me his gaze seems serious, but I am doing nothing but beaming.

"Dawn..." he begins. The words seem to cause his throat to clamp up. He can't help but stare at me. As if he can see beneath my skin.

Every time he says my name I can feel it in my chest. He doesn't finish his sentence because my lips are on his.

I'm happy when he doesn't push me off. Instead, I wrap my hands around his face, feeling the soft stubble that runs along his cheeks. He runs his hands down my arms, until they find their way into the fabric of my shirt. He takes the material up into his hands, holding on to me tightly, before slipping his hands up the back of my shirt. His hands may be callused, and his face may have stubble, but he feels soft against me.

I imagine I feel much softer than he does. When I break to breathe he is the one who pulls me back in. I wonder if he craves me like I crave him. He feels like the ocean, and I can feel myself craving his cool touch, and the freedom he brings. He seems like the sun, bright and full of everything I need to truly live.

Because it is with him that I feel like I am living. A lot of the boys treat life here like it is only about surviving. I can survive; I could do it any day. With Minho however, I feel like I am living.

I laugh slightly, and he laughs too. We pull back, our foreheads resting on each other's, simply giggling. I don't know what he finds so funny, and I'm not entirely sure what I find funny either. Maybe it is the ridiculousness of being banned from kissing, or maybe it is how I was frustrated with him seconds ago, but whatever it is seems to be behind me.

I am not going to let anyone stop me from kissing Minho.

"Are we really doing this?" He chuckles. "I mean, shuck me if I don't. I'd be an idiot. I am an idiot if I do though anyway."

Minho pauses, giving himself a second to stare at me. "We can't do this."

I shake my head and pull him in for another kiss. It is brief but sweet.

He pulls back, trying to look at me. "You, know, if we get busted-"

"If Alby is so mad about us kissing, he should be the one to go sleep with the Grievers."

Minho laughs, but it doesn't reach his eyes. Glancing around, hands wringing; he can't focus.

"Did you mean-"

"Yes."

It's a simple answer, and he starts laughing again. When he looks at me though, he quickly kisses me. He shakes his head, trying to stop laughing. It wasn't that funny I didn't think, but I imagine he knows Alby quite a bit better than I do.

"You're going to wake up the whole Glade if you keep at that." I tell him trying to get him to slim it.

"Sorry." He makes a quick attempt to recover, even though he has to clear his throat. His hands are still planted firmly on my waist, and he won't let them go. When he's finally done, he leans into me, looking at me.

"So, what's the plan?" I ask.

His back tenses, and so do his arms. Slowly, they pull themselves off of me. He shrugs his shoulders backwards, biting his lip.

"I don't know," he begins. "I think this is scarier than you think it is."

"It can't be," I sigh, leaning backwards. I can't help but stare at his arms. My body feels haunted by his absence. A warmth quick and fleeting. I realise that he is easily going to slip through my fingers, and I won't be able to do anything about it.

"It is," he shakes his head back and forth, before looking up at the trees. "Klunk."

I watch him look. Watch him study the branches, waiting for the sky to crumble down on top of them. Honestly, I get that banishment is serious, but no one would ever do it to us. No one ever could. I don't quite understand why he needs more confirmation. Was I not clear enough when I kissed him? I thought that going my point across quite clearly.

"We can slow down," I offer. "If that's what this is."

He mutters something to himself, before he looks back down. "It wouldn't hurt."

"Oh yeah?"

"Maybe," he doesn't move off. He isn't letting go of me, even though he is trying too and I can't help but shake my head at the absurdity of him.

"You had probably better get going." I tell him, glancing up at the sun between the trees. "After all, Mr. Keeper of the Runners shouldn't be late."

"I don't think I could go if I wanted to," he shrugs, eyes pleading into mine.

"Minho." I don't know how to reason with him.

He let's out one final sigh. His balls his hands into fists, and his knuckles crack. "Friends?"

I nod carefully. For a second, he reaches forward, but then turns his back. When he turns away to head off, I can't help but move after him. I am about to grab his hand when he turns to face me.

"Wait," he begs. He pulls his hand back. "Tonight?"

"Tonight." I agree, a faint smile on my face. He confuses me.

He nods, and moves before turning around back to face me. "Tomorrow night?"

For a second I wonder what he is doing, but I can ask later. I nod firmly at him, before he shakes his head and slips out of the trees.

~~~~~~~~

I really like themes. Writing my last story was a rough headspace to be in, but overall it was worth it. To think as if every move was my last. The panic, the anger, the screaming, the solidity. It was wonderful.

Writing this chapter reminded me writing makes it so I can breathe. What kind of stories do you like to read? Do you think ASUNDER is four different stories, or one?

That's sort of the point of this book anyway; perception, unity, and individuality. I think it somehow is both.

Pondering until Tuesday.