tramitem_log | I turned over the map for the inside of my mind

Entry tags:

I turned over the map for the inside of my mind

Who: Elliott (Eleven) and OPEN
What: Elliott doin' a heckin' research
When: Feb 16th-28th
Where: New York Public Library
Rating/Warnings: Low-key anxious teenager

To think only a few weeks ago, he'd lamented the fact that all of his friends were growing up. Getting jobs or else bogged down by responsibility, increasingly short on time to hang out like they used to. And now here he was, holed up in the library every day after school and every weekend, more relieved than anything that he didn't have to explain himself to many of them. Sitting in relative peace with a stack of books to work through while he flipped between tabs of scattered information on his laptop.

It didn't make a great deal of practical sense, but the public space felt safer than attempting to study alone at home. The library had a productive atmosphere, he reasoned: an air of focus in the shuffle of papers and heavy thump of closed books while still maintaining a quiet sense of community.

In such a space, he didn't feel at all remarkable. To everyone there, he was just a perfectly ordinary high school student working on perfectly ordinary schoolwork. Though occasionally, he did quickly change tabs or shift in his seat to discretely obscure more esoteric texts- a guilty habit he had yet to break himself of. No one would care about what he was reading, he knew, yet still the sense of self-consciousness persisted.

And then there were times he zoned out while he read or scrolled down a page, either intensely focused or not at all, and jumped back to reality whenever someone brushed by his seat. Always offering a nervous greeting and silently praying no one decided to sit next to him. His materials were spread about a bit rudely to that effect, scattered to take up more table space than strictly necessary to make sitting elsewhere an easier choice for most.

Unfortunately, it didn't always work.

"Oh, uh, sorry, let me move that.."

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"Fair enough." If Elliott didn't want to talk about that stuff then Clarence was willing to drop it. All his thoughts just felt like throwing a ball against a wall, bouncing back to him without much else to show for it.

He finished up on his pinky finger just as Elliott asked, shaking his hand to try and dry the polish faster. "Pretty good, actually. It's a nice color. I usually stick to black but I've been trying to branch out a bit."

He glanced over at Elliott, checking over the other boy's unpolished nails. "... Want me to do yours?"

Elliott blinked, an immediate refusal jumping to his tongue, then dying just as swiftly.

"Oh, uh.. I don't think I've ever had my nails painted before. Do you think they'd look good?"

Clarence smirked. "Literally everyone looks better with their nails done. It's also a good way to help kick the habit if you're a biter."

He retrieved the black polish bottle and waved it back and forth as he spoke in a singsongy voice, "C'mon. You know you want to."

Elliott smiled, though he eyed the bottle a bit warily.

"I don't think I want them black, though.."

Clarence blinked, not having expected that. "Really? Most guys would say black or nothing. Though I... think I see what you mean."

Looking at Elliott, he wanted to really try brighter colors. Maybe a sky blue would be better. Biting his lip, Clarence rifled through his bag, hoping to find something that would work. In the end, he only had a clear bottle, the black, the dark purple, a soft minty green, and a polish of silver glitter.

"Don't judge, I tried to make galaxy nails once but it's too hard to do on myself." He hummed, looking back to Elliott with a shrug. "Thoughts?"

Not for the first time, Elliott wondered if he really was 'most guys'. But it didn't hurt to try, did it? He was sure he could find his mom's nail polish remover at home if for some reason he hated it.

He peered at the bottles on offer, then turned his hands over, thoughtful. "The green or silver maybe?"

Clarence picked up both bottles and seemed to weight them in his mind before setting down the silver. "Green would be better, I think. But we'll start with a clear coat so it's easier for you to get off later."

Scooting his chair a bit closer, Clarence held out his hand expectantly.

Elliott colored, eyes darting away to close his laptop and linger over the books on the table.

"Should we really do this here? It does smell a bit strong."

Something he was remiss in mentioning before, due to the given topic at the time.

Elliott's sudden nervousness gave Clarence pause. Honestly, he hardly noticed the smell anymore since it had become such a normal thing in his life, but maybe to someone new to the scent would find it cloying. Still...

Glaring down at the table, he pushed the chair back again. "Tch. If you'd rather not you should just say so."

"It's not that," he insisted, nerves flaring to life and simultaneously desperate to reassure. "Just, I don't know. Maybe I should put everything away first? It takes awhile to dry, right? I don't want to ruin any of the books."

"I won't get any on the books, and you won't either if you just sit still." He huffed, cheeks puffing with a pout. "I'm even more steady painting on things that aren't my own hands. It'll be fine."

He holds back the need to tell Elliott not to be a baby about it. He didn't really want to insult the only person he considered a friend so early in their relationship.

"Okay," he said, calming a little, though not a lot. The idea of getting his nails done wasn't the issue, he realized. It was just that it would be weird to have it done in a public place by another guy.

But, looking at Clarence and only just coming down from the worry that maybe he'd accidentally pushed his new friend away, decided he could deal with it.

"Okay," he said again, busying himself with moving everything safely out of range. It would be nice if his face and ears would stop burning.

Elliott took a breath and offered up his hand.

"I trust you."

I trust you. For some reason, those words felt very strange to hear. If one looked close enough, they could probably see the tips of Clarence's ears turning pink.

He carefully took Elliott's hand in his, focusing on the nails to try and bring his temperature down. Clarence had done this enough in school with some of the girls to not feel embarrassed over it but it was different, holding a guy's hand. He didn't mind it, though. Starting with making sure all of Elliott's nails were filed down even and neat, he began with the clear coat, his own hands steady and sure.

It was always easier to do nails if there was some background noise, but without the incessant chatter of the girls sitting around him as they usually did in homeroom it was hard to find that same calm. He glanced up at Elliott's face, then back down to his work. "So... have you always lived in Queens?"

His fingers twitched, the touch of cool unexpected through his nail.

"Yeah," Elliott said in a bit of a rush. Anything to take his mind off of.. everything that was going on right now.

"Yeah. Mom got a job offer and moved up here, then uh... well, I came along."

He cleared his throat, entirely incapable of eye contact.

"But um, that's not the same for you, right?"

Edited 2020-03-12 04:06 (UTC)

Still so tense. Clarence hopes their talk would slowly ease Elliott back into the same calm as before.

“Yeah, I was born, uh, in Maine I guess? But pretty much have lived in the NYC area the whole time, just not always Queens. I’ve only been here since summer last year.” The first hand’s clear coat finished, he reached for Elliott’a other hand and started working on those nails too. “Mostly Manhattan area for the first half of my life though.”

Elliott retrieved his painted hand and gave his nails an evaluating look. It was clear of course, but they shone a bit- probably because it was still wet. He rested his fingers awkwardly on the table, careful not to touch anything.

"Manhatten, huh?" He said, finally feeling his nerves start to cool. "Is that where you decided you wanted to be an artist?"

Clarence grimaced over Elliott’s hand but his movements never faltered. Sighing, he debated whether to say anything more or not but he hadn’t felt anything remotely teasing from his new friend. Still, this wasn’t something he liked to talk about.

“.... Guess you could say that. My... uh, Doug and Eva, they were artists. A painter and a sculptor. They were always covered in paint and clay, and you know kids, always getting into things.” He swallowed, hands shaking just a moment as he finished up on Elliott’s other pinky. “Once I wasn’t dumb enough to shovel it into my mouth they basically set me up with whatever art stuff I wanted.”

Elliott glanced over, concerned after Clarence's assurance of steady hands. It was hard to pick out exactly how he was feeling with brows that could just as easily be pinched with concentration.

It didn't seem like something he should pry into, at least.

"That's pretty cool."

And just like that, relief snapped the cord of tension and Clarence could breathe again. He hadn’t realized how hot he was getting until just a moment before. Still, he resisted the urge to wipe his brow, keeping his concentration on the task at hand.

“Let’s let them dry a bit,” he said, capping the clear polish. In the meantime, he began to roll the green bottle to get the air bubbles out and mix the paint.

“Yeah, so... guess you could say I was encouraged in it. It’s been a hobby that hasn’t gone away in all this time so.” He shrugs.

Elliott smiled and fanned his hands.

"I want to be an environmental scientist. Help protect nature, you know? Keep it from being used up."

Clarence smiled, eyes easing in a way they don’t typically with a warmth that is rare. “That’s actually really nice to hear. I didn’t realize you were eco-conscious. I can dig it.”

Nature was nice. It had no malice, just went about doing what it had to do to keep the planet running. Clarence didn’t know the first thing about conservation besides recycling but he liked to think if he had a chance to save the earth he would do what he could.

He nodded, pride swelling with his friend's endorsement.

"I think deforestation is the issue I want to tackle most."

Elliott peered at his hands. "Do you think they're ready yet?"

"Cool." And he meant it. That took some dedication and a willingness to self-sacrifice for a grab-bag of limited and majorly delayed gratification. But definitely worthy of time and effort. "I think if I were into that stuff, I'd probably try to help clean up the oceans. But I'll probably just end up fostering kittens when I get older and can afford the space."

Cats weren't necessarily an endangered species by any means, but they were important to Clarence. Important enough to want to help them.

"Lemme see," Clarence reached for Elliott's hand, the first one he painted, and gently dabbed at the polish with his finger. "... Seems pretty good on this side. I'll get started on the green."

Elliott firmly ignored the fact that there were other people around, latching instead to their thread of conversation.

"You really do like cats, huh?"

“Did my hoodie give it away?” He said sarcastically, but a small hint of red worked up on the tips of his ear. “But... yeah. They’re so much better than most people. And they live so serenely. Kinda wish life could be that way for humans too.”

Just eating, sleeping, grooming and playing. How nice.

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