Mamihlapinatapei

Mamihlapinatapei—the look between two three people in which each loves the others but is too afraid to make the first move.

travel light, someone told eliot once, when he was still green and whole and genuinely believed it was only bad men who ended up bleeding out and alone. travel light, they said, because everything you carry makes you heavy, everything you keep is a weight around your ankles. travel light, son, travel light.

except sometimes hardison slings an arm over eliot’s shoulders, or parker falls asleep with her head in his lap, and eliot can feel himself sinking.

.

stall, hardison says, and eliot does.

lie, parker says, and eliot lies.

run, hardison tells him, and eliot runs. jump, parker tells him, and eliot never asks how high. he’ll grow wings before then.

he waits for them to tell him, stay.

.

he keeps waiting.

.

(hardison invents reasons to get in eliot’s space, resting his chin on eliot’s shoulder to see what’s for dinner, challenging eliot to mario kart and then sitting too close. parker has never needed a reason. she sneaks into his bed sometimes, warming her toes on his calves and whispering about sapphires she has loved. he’s never attacked her, not even few times she startled him awake—his body trusts her instinctively, without his permission.

they all stand an inch too close, lean toward each other like sunflowers seeking light. when sophie points this out, they recoil, spend a week being stiff, too formal. no one will meet the others’ gazes.)

.

at christmas, hardison gives eliot seeds from his nana’s garden. I know it’s not much, he says, rubbing the back of his neck. But I thought…for spring, you know?

eliot almost kisses him then. he doesn’t, but it’s a damn near thing.

.

what do you mean, parker asks nate. I don’t understand, why wouldn’t eliot live with us?

.

eliot keeps his hands outstretched, even when the weight sinks him to his knees. (I can take it. I can take it.) hardison sings michael jackson in the shower and parker brings home stray animals she doesn’t know how to feed; parker takes the curves too fast in their stolen car, head thrown back and laughing as hardison grips eliot’s arm hard enough to leave bruises.

tell me to stay, eliot shouts, letting the wind steal the words from his mouth. tell me to stay, tell me—

what? hardison shouts.

eliot shakes his head, swallows. nothing.