When Ryan finished his homework, but still had lots of time left before his lab, he allowed himself to lay his head down on the desk, and watch Eli work so rigorously on his vase, the brushes seemingly turning thinner and thinner whenever he swapped them out. 

Though it seemed incredibly uncomfortable to be working the way he did, for hours on end, never once straightening his back. He either sat on his chair hunched forward as close as he could get to his vase, fingers clenching around his brush, or he squatted around the table to reach the bottom-most parts of his ceramic piece, his body constantly enduring a strain. 

“Eli.” And with music in his ears, he didn’t react to Ryan’s voice, or pretended not to. His body did flinch, ever so slightly, as if he’d heard Ryan loud and clear, but chosen to ignore him. 

“Eli.” At least, Eli didn’t correct him on that nickname anymore, simply letting it fly, as he’d lost the fight, anyway. 

“Eli!” 

Instantly, Eli dropped his brush, practically flinging it into the plastic cup beside him on the table, and sighed. “What?! You said you wouldn’t bother me.” 

“And I didn’t!” 

“Now, you are. Just shut up! Can’t you see that I’m busy?”

“I think you should take a break,” Ryan pouted, lifting his heavy head up, followed by his body, all so he could approach Eli with cautious steps. “You’ve been working like that for hours. You need to stretch a little, and relax for a bit. I bet your legs hurt, and your eyes, because your squinting all the time, and your fingers must be cramping—“

“What’s it to you?” Eli grumbled. “I need to finish this—“

“You can finish it later. Besides, you’ve been painting around the same spot for like an hour, now. It looks fine to me.” 

“No, it’s off. It needs to be symmetric with the other side, but this one’s thinner.”

“So, you’re just adding microscopic lines until it matches? Seriously, Eli … no one can see that.” 

“Leave me alone.” 

“I will after you take a break! If you work on this for too long, you’ll get annoyed like last time, and before I know it, you’ll have painted this whole thing pitch-black and turned it into a black hole, just so you don’t have to see it anymore.”

“Seriously—“ Elias hissed, arms stemmed into his hips. Hair bound into an adorable, short ponytail, wavy bangs bothering his face. 

“What happened to that painting, anyway? The cyberpunk one.” Ryan’s heart beat higher, even though Eli didn’t look at him once, his gaze focused on the artwork before them for an eternity, and even longer. 

“It’s still in my trunk.”

Ryan’s eyes lit up. “For real?! You didn’t throw it out! Yay!” 

“I told you to take it, and you just left your shit in my car.”

“It’s not shit! It’s an awesome painting, okay?! There’s this game, it’s set in a futuristic city just like your painting, and the vibes are so, so cool. It reminded me of that game, though I haven’t played it in ages, and it’s seriously amazing!” 

“Another stupid game of yours,” Eli sighed.

“They’re not stupid, Eli!” Ryan’s pout grew bigger and bigger, making Eli scoff and turn his head away all the more. 

Standing next to each other, they both now stared at Eli’s giant, painted-on flask.

“It looks amazing, Eli,” Ryan mumbled in a much more sincere tone, trying his hardest to be taken serious by Eli, who never seemed to truly listen to a word Ryan said. “You can finish it in a bit. We could just go and have some lunch, and you’ll be back in no time.”

“…” Eli continued on staring at his ceramic, only to notice a detail off, a detail in blue paint so minute, Ryan couldn’t even see it.

But Eli’s eyes, that constantly searched for his own mistakes, noticed it so swiftly, he already reached for his brush in an effort to fix it. Ryan intervened by snatching the brush out of Eli’s fingers.

“Later,” he mumbled.

“Go away,” Eli hissed. “I’m not eating with you.” 

“You need a break, and seriously … it doesn’t have to be perfect right now! Why are you getting hung up on these details, when you haven’t even finished the whole thing? You can always fix it later, and, and … just enjoy the way it is right now. It’s beautiful, even if it isn’t perfect, though it looks perfect to me. Can’t you enjoy how talented you are for just a moment, and embrace your current skills?”

Now, Eli stared up at Ryan with his fierce, dark eyes, making Ryan gulp in sudden nerves.

“What’s the point, if I’m not getting any better?”

“You’re already so good!” 

In a whisper, and almost too surprising of an answer, Eli responded. Honestly, at this point, Ryan had already expected to get kicked out of the atelier. “It’s not good enough.”

“Eli, what are you saying?” Ryan sulked, sadness drooping his eyes. “Why are you so hard on yourself? Art isn’t about being the best, is it? It’s about expressing yourself, and having fun. When’s the last time you fully enjoyed painting something and didn’t beat yourself up over whatever little mistake you made?”

Eli glared at Ryan, as if he was an alien, as if the words he’d said were the most otherworldly thing he’d ever heard. Enjoying his time painting was the most foreign concept in his mind, and that broke Ryan’s heart. 

Their eyes remained connected for longer than ever before, Ryan’s green pulling Eli in a trance, and vice versa. Eli’s dark irises, and his grown pupils, pulled Ryan into a new, unknown dimension where he could hear his gulps, and the pounding of his overworked heart. 

But Eli’s eyes changed. A glimmer appeared atop them, a wet gloss that frightened Ryan. 

“How …” Eli whispered, already stuttering backwards a step, wanting to escape Ryan’s gaze. “How can I enjoy it?”

“What … ? Eli. How can you not?”

“I’m not—I’m not supposed to—“ To hear Eli stuttering, to hear his voice crack, robbed Ryan of all sense and breath. He understood nothing, but somehow, it felt like they weren’t talking about just art anymore, and that this was something entirely different. 

And though their eyes remained glued to each other, Eli wished to escape backwards. “Go—Go away. Just leave me alone. I don’t need to hear your stupid takes, as if it’s okay to be mediocre, and stuck in one place, and, and, and—Just go away!”

Ryan’s heart thumped. Eli kept backing up, and when Ryan tried to stop him by reaching for his arm, Eli yanked right back, elbow crashing into his ceramic piece.

“Eli!” 

It tipped over, and crashed onto the ground, shattering into endless pieces across the room, some slithering far away, most right before their feet, and under the desk.

“Eli … Why … You kept backing up into it! I was trying to stop you!” 

Eli stared at the ground, the shatters of his art, his meticulous design poking through on some of the pieces. He stared, and stared, with an expression so empty, Ryan wasn’t sure what to think.

And then, after moments of silence that felt like eternity, he let out a sob so surprising, it shook Ryan to his core, making it impossible to think clearly.

“No, no, no, Eli! We—We can fix it! I’m sure we can fix it!” Ryan dropped to his knees before the shattered ceramic, reaching for the bigger pieces. “Look, most of them are pretty big, and some are a bit smaller, but, but I’m sure we can puzzle it back together! I can get us some super glue, and I’ll help you! I’ve got good memory, and I’m sure we can figure out how to put it back together! Eli, don’t cry! It’ll be fine, I’ll fix it!” 

Already, carelessly, Ryan reached for the sharp-edged pieces of ceramic, trying to sort them atop the floor by the design he remembered, in the way they fit together.

“Just leave it!” Eli hissed, though tears streamed down his face, making Ryan look up in shivers that dominated his body.

“But—No! You—You worked on it for so long, and you said it was important, and—“

“It’s garbage, now. Who cares?”

“You care!”

“Shut up! It’s always when you are here, distracting me, that something breaks, or paint gets everywhere, or, or—” His own tears swallowed Eli’s voice, and Ryan said nothing, accepting Eli’s odd outburst of anger and sorrow.

Without looking, Ryan reached for another piece, and hissed as soon as it stung into his hand, a shatter so sharp, it dug into his skin without any effort, making red color droop onto the white ceramic. 

Eli sobbed again, and Ryan understood nothing anymore when Eli dropped onto his knees, and scolded and cared for Ryan all the same.

“What are you doing, stupid? This is why we have brooms! Why are you just picking it up with your hands?! I told you to leave it!” 

“But—“ 

Eli yanked Ryan’s hand towards himself, with tears streaming down his face. “What are you doing? Why are you … Why?”

“It—It doesn’t hurt, Eli … it’s fine …” 

But Eli didn’t listen any longer. He stomped through the room in search for the first aid kit every room in the arts faculty had, and rushed back over, cleaning over Ryan’s palm. 

Ryan could only sit there, awkwardly kneeling on the ground next to Eli, as he held his hand so gently, and cared for it so attentively, Ryan’s heart could only beat louder, and louder. And the whole time as Eli cleaned the little cut, and covered it with band-aids, Ryan could only stare at Eli’s face, and the gloss that dried over his cheeks, only for more, silent tears to ooze out of his reddened eyes. 

Thick tears dropped out again, and again. He didn’t sob, didn’t make a single peep, but he continued to cry, with a trembling, cramping chin and jawline, and Ryan didn’t understand whether it was about his ceramic art, or about Ryan’s harmless wound, or about something else entirely. 

“Eli …” Ryan whispered, and he couldn’t stop himself. As they sat so close before one another, and Eli’s tears dropped even onto Ryan’s hand, he couldn’t sit still any longer. His healthy hand reached forward, though it trembled, as nervous as he was, and all too cautiously, he wiped one of Eli’s giant tears away.

Eli’s face was incredibly hot to the touch, his cheek soft, and sticky from all the tears.

And as soon as Ryan’s fingers reached him, he shuddered, letting out a loud, quivery breath. 

“Don’t cry,” Ryan mumbled. “Your eyes are getting all puffy.” 

He tried himself at a smile when Eli’s eyes darted up at him, but they would flicker away just as quick.

“You … You are so …” Eli sighed. “So annoying, and so clumsy, getting hurt like an idiot! Such a nuisance!” 

Ryan didn’t believe it for a second, and he continued on smiling, because despite those words, Eli’s gentle fingers continued to tend to his little wounds.