Freedom
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I don't need to breathe, your hands have reminded me.
The only air I need is perfume.
Oxygen comes second to you.
Smoke erases nothing, but I try my best to fry you from my lungs.
The smell just mixes with yours.
I can't breath.
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Navigating sexuality at all can be difficult and confusing, no matter the environment you grow up with. Add in all that Cypress has been dealing with for years, and you can imagine the anxiety that comes along with it. Masturbation sends him into panic attacks. The only exception is if it's directly after his father leaves him, if he's hard from his most recent assault... then he can manage to get himself there in the quiet their aftermath. Every time it happens, he immediately cleans up after himself, erasing all evidence while he poorly handles his complex emotions.
For those that meet the shy, punkish young man, it's no surprise when they see him being awkward when he has an interest in someone. From the outside, it looks like rather normal stumbling and awkwardness, but on the inside, it's so much more. There've been a few cases where friends have made small passes at him, male and female alike. But even if they make his heart race and stomach flip, he removes himself from the moment without grace. Even now, he's only managed to get up the courage to actually pursue and kiss one person... a teacher.
After being caught red handed with his teacher by his father, things changed. There was a sudden distance between them that wasn't the type that Cypress usually tried to put there. While it wasn't unheard of for Roman to leave him alone for a few days or weeks at a time, depending on what's going on in their lives. Now, though, he was left alone for months. After a grace period of acceptance and even contentment, it drove him mad. It drove him out of the house one night, to booze and drugs, and ultimately into his father's bed and arms while still heavily under the influence. Drunk actions are sober thoughts, right? Fuck.
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Some of Cy's Art
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