plot twist twistin' my heart 'til it's hollow
band-aids for all my scraped knees
Clem isn't exactly familiar with art. It had never had a place in his life, moving from poverty to homelessness as he had. Graffiti and city sculptures were the only things he'd ever known, so when Rexanna had mentioned a gathering for artists, Clemente had declined immediately. Of course curiosity had taken over eventually, not just about art but about the man Rexanna had informed him would be leading the gathering. Her husband.
Clem isn't unhappy at the idea of meeting him, but terrified? Oh, absolutely. Which means he kinda has to go, because Clem's reaction to fear was generally to face it head on like an idiot. A self-destructive part of him whispers that if Bastien doesn't like him, it will only hasten the destruction of this tentative, hopeful new life Rexanna has offered him. The one that Clemente has no idea how to handle, the one that scares him more than Bastien's disapproval or Rexanna's abandonment ever could. Because he doesn't know how to be whole, how to live this life Rexanna tells him he could have, and it's terrifying. This world is nothing like his own, and he doesn't think he'll ever really fit in.
But he ends up here anyway, hunched as small as his tall frame will let him, pale green eyes darting around nervously. Rexanna goes to greet Bastien, leaning on her toes to kiss him, and Clem glances away. There's one other boy - still young, but older than Clemente. He seems harmless enough, so the teenager stands uncomfortably between him and Rexanna, fingers fidgeting nervously with the bracelet Rexanna had made him. Her encouraging smile brings a grimace of one to his own face, trying to hide the terror in his eyes and the discomfort twitching along his shoulders, urging him to run like hell at the first sign of danger. "H-Hi," he says uselessly towards Bastien, holdings his arms close to his chest, unwilling to lift one to even wave. His gaze falls to the supplies instead, curiosity clear on his expressive face as he drifts towards them unconsciously. Now his fingers twitch for an entirely different reason, wanting to play with these new materials but hesitating, waiting for the go-ahead.
Clem isn't unhappy at the idea of meeting him, but terrified? Oh, absolutely. Which means he kinda has to go, because Clem's reaction to fear was generally to face it head on like an idiot. A self-destructive part of him whispers that if Bastien doesn't like him, it will only hasten the destruction of this tentative, hopeful new life Rexanna has offered him. The one that Clemente has no idea how to handle, the one that scares him more than Bastien's disapproval or Rexanna's abandonment ever could. Because he doesn't know how to be whole, how to live this life Rexanna tells him he could have, and it's terrifying. This world is nothing like his own, and he doesn't think he'll ever really fit in.
But he ends up here anyway, hunched as small as his tall frame will let him, pale green eyes darting around nervously. Rexanna goes to greet Bastien, leaning on her toes to kiss him, and Clem glances away. There's one other boy - still young, but older than Clemente. He seems harmless enough, so the teenager stands uncomfortably between him and Rexanna, fingers fidgeting nervously with the bracelet Rexanna had made him. Her encouraging smile brings a grimace of one to his own face, trying to hide the terror in his eyes and the discomfort twitching along his shoulders, urging him to run like hell at the first sign of danger. "H-Hi," he says uselessly towards Bastien, holdings his arms close to his chest, unwilling to lift one to even wave. His gaze falls to the supplies instead, curiosity clear on his expressive face as he drifts towards them unconsciously. Now his fingers twitch for an entirely different reason, wanting to play with these new materials but hesitating, waiting for the go-ahead.
blankets when i had bad dreams
felt like nothin' could hurt me
CLEMENTE
