March 1st:

It doesn't bother Mara that she hasn't seen Elias in over two weeks. In truth, it doesn't even occur to her, having not seen him around the school either. It isn't until today, strolling through the halls by herself, that the two make eye contact. His melancholy gaze, staring at her in shock, before he looks away as if he never saw her.

She stops in her tracks, watching as he strides away, his toned back facing her. His shoulders are hunched over as if gravity is placing all its force on his frame. His steps are sluggish, as if he doesn't want to leave her but something is pushing him away.

"Elias, stop!" She commands, her stalwart voice ringing through the corridor, echoing off the metal lockers. Elias freezes at the tone of her voice, his feet stopping on their own accord. They squeak against the floor tiles, halting their shuffling as he drags them behind him.

With his back still to her, he bores his eyes hard at the wall, squeezing them shut. When he reopens them, painfully, she's in front of him waiting. Her hands securely on her hips, her plucked eyebrow quirked as if daring him to move. The smell of pine permeates his nose in a sort of wistfulness, panging his chest as his breathing is stuttered.

"You're ignoring me. Why?" She crosses her arm over her chest, her backpack firmly on her shoulders. Elias stares at her chipping, red nail polish, too afraid to look her in the eyes as he shrugs. He noticed that she never goes anywhere without that backpack, as if she keeps her life in the handmade knapsack.

"Is something wrong?" She interrogates, ducking her head so she can examine him square in the eye. He is impassive, a disconcerted expression covering his features as his shoulders rise and fall again with a heaving breath. He scuffs his shoe into the flooring, clenching and unclenching his fits at his sides. Emotions roll through his body like a tide.

Mara's temper is flaring, even if she can tell something is off about him, she can't control her sour rage. He is withdrawn, sure, but this Elias seems disoriented. He tetters in front of her, his eyes looking into hers but not really seeing her.

"I don't care for the bitchy attitude, so why don't you find me when you're done being a dick," she bites out, twirling on her heels. She's the one to walk away now, her knitted backpack to him as he watches.

Slamming his fist against the locker lightly, the smashing sound reverberates against Mara's eardrums. She twists around fast, looking at him expectantly, tucking a blonde strand of hair behind her ear as she pauses. He holds his hand up as if telling her to wait, reaching deep into his jacket pocket to grab the notebook she'd given him a month ago. He has kept it in his coat this entire time, finding comfort in the small piece of her he holds.

Scribbling out one word, he stalks towards her gently, handing it to her with a frown. Their fingers brush, shooting sparks through both of their fingertips, Elias surprised to find he doesn't flinch away.

In ink, the word sorry is written across the white paper. A small smile forms on Mara's lips, her icy eyes, darting over his messy left-handed writing. She idles a minute, making Elias look at her questioningly, his worry building in his chest before she laughs.

Her tumultuous voice, light and pleasant, ringing through the long empty halls Elias settles his nerves. He watches her with light amusement, finding that with her he could ease his mind. His coffee-colored eyes widening, shining at the sound of her smiling voice, a flashing grin overpowering his lips.

"I forgive you, weirdo, don't pull that shit again though," she says, walking away from him once again. Elias watches her, uncertain of what to do. It isn't until she's at the end of the hallway and about to turn the corner, her tree smell dissipating with the cool air she leaves behind, that she looks over her shoulder at him.

"Well common now," she states, rolling her eyes. 

Elias grins, nodding his head as he jogs to catch up to her. Surprising himself and her when he grabs onto her hand. His warm palm, cupping hers as both ignore the feeling of fire that courses through them. At this moment, all thoughts of that night vanish, all mental illnesses scorned.

With Mara, he was just Elias.

With Elias, she was just Mara.

They are enigmas to each other, puzzle pieces to a two-piece perplexity. He is a lingering match and she is a flickering flame. They reign power collectively. He is her calm and she is his storm, a paradox to the world they comprise.

Noiselessly Elias follows her, his warm hand in hers, ignoring the itching feeling of anxiousness to let go of her touch. All the same, she guides him, shutting out the voices in her head that scream into her subconscious.

She continues to guide through the building, all the way up to the rooftop garden. The breeze whips through Mara's hair, pushing it away from her face as she smiles towards Elias, showing off every feature of his. He looks at her, his eyes taking her in, memorizing very freckles dotting her nose before he glances to the sky. Extending his arm, he traces the outline of the bunches of clouds. She watches him do this calmly.

"She was afraid of height, but she was much more afraid of never flying," Mara whispers, "Atticus."

Elias peers at her, watching as with a curious expression she stares towards the world subordinate them. Even at this height, everything is meager. Specks of a bigger something that, when looked at from a certain distance, are really nothing. Like a cloak of invisibility, disappearing into a pure memory as they raised towards the atmosphere.

"Do you ever worry about that?" Mara stares at Elias, her voice not above a murmur. It's carried away with the sharpness of wind, her puff forming circles of heated fog from the slit in her lips. Her blue eyes contrast the white of the winter world, so bright they appear to be see-through.

Elias shakes his head only imperceptibly, his eyebrow raised in a question. He watches as Mara glances back towards the ground below, covered in a sheath of snow. The colorful flowers are hidden beneath the white canvas of wintry rain. He looks at her side profile, watching her take in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the crisp air.

"That we won't ever fly, you know, never really live up to anything. That we will be stuck here forever." She rocks her head, pushing her hair away from her face as she hugs herself, comforting herself.

"My biggest fear in life is that I will forever be stuck in this cycle," her hands move around in loops, animatedly as she speaks with so much enthusiasm. Like she is creating the words for Elias to see with his own eyes, drawing them out for him in the wind.

Time is everything we have and don't, Elias drafts out in his notebook, giving it to Mara. She glances over his words, breathing them in, reciting them quietly under her breath. Her fingers, brushing over them, chipping red nails, grazing the ink.

"You're right," she laughs, her chest vibrating, shaking her head as if to rid her of its demons, "because in the end, we all die."

It is the truth. There is an end to everything. The greatest spoiler in life is that everyone dies in the end. Nobody can outlive time, it is eternal and never ending. The clock, ticking over another bolded number, repeating its actions day after day. Time will be everything they have and everything they will lose.

Holding onto each other's hands for balance, they stare out into the world. 

Hearing as the chiming bell signifies the end of school, watching as crowds of teenagers, none of which looked the same, storm out the doors. Sensing as the wind whips against their face, leaving their cheeks and the tips of their ears tinted red. They watch as the flurry of life shrivels to nothingness before they followed suit.

Even into the night when Elias sneaks into his treehouse, escaping his mother's tears, he runs Mara's disturbances through his head. 

All the same, as she sneaks out of the house to escape her mother's vengeance, she traces the scars on her arms. Repeating Elias's words about life as a mantra, branding it onto her arms.

They listened as the world goes deafened with nighttime. Only a few cars to linger the streets, the flickering lamp post to guide her way. The smell of the night's fresh air, a blank navy state for morning awakeness.

Time is everything they don't have.

---

Authors Note:

So they held hands, which is progress, of course it will be slow progress.

Thoughts?

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- ❤ Nia

Edited 3/29/22