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kafkaesque: having a nightmarishly complex, bizarre, or illogical quality.

bexutifully:

     _{Beckham had never been good at talking, at expressing himself through words and saying what other’s needed to hear. He could talk a lot but never really say anything, especially not what he needed to say. He’d always known that about himself and he cursed himself for it frequently as so many people didn’t understand that. They didn’t understand that he simply couldn’t do it, not like they wanted. But what Beckham was capable of was showing it, he expressed himself through his actions and in all the little things that he did. It frequently wasn’t enough for most people, they didn’t understand it and more often than not he was left alone because once again he wasn’t able to say what they needed to hear. Beck had thought that maybe showing up on Jasper’s doorstep spoke volumes, but once again he’d been mistaken and he couldn’t find the words to make it right. Instead, he found himself feeling like an idiot and backing away slowly and somberly from the sight before him. Beckham’s eyes found the ground and he focused on not tripping over his own feet. He wanted to run, his brain screaming at him to do so before it all became too much but he couldn’t move all of a sudden, his feet like tree stumps rooted to the grass below him. Jasper’s voice sent a shiver down his spine and Beckham’s heart sputtered. He wasn’t sure if he’d heard correctly but he took what he could get and he knew he’d be replaying those words in his mind over and over again for weeks, even months to come. “I— I came here because I needed to see you.” He coughed. Beckham knew that if ever there was a time to say what he really felt, this was it. “I thought about it at first, making your life a living hell and I would have if you’d been here all happy and shit. I couldn’t bear the thought of you moving on when I haven’t. I needed to see you, maybe I wanted to know that you were as broken as I am and maybe that’s selfish of me, to want you to miss me. I just, I’ve not been the same and I know it’s because I’m..” Beckham shook his head once again unable to find the right words. He wanted to launch himself off a cliff. Everything was on the line and he couldn’t do it. “Fuck, I can’t— I wanted..” His hands tangled into his hair and tugged at it. When he finally looked up, he could see a mirrored image of sadness looking back at him. Emerald eyes burning into brown. “What are we doing?” Beckham whispered as his limbs began to function again but instead of moving backward, he was propelling himself forward towards the male he was so helplessly in love with.}

            _{To verbalize his true feelings and emotions were something he seldom did. Jasper never really loved anything, except for when he experienced a vital change in his life, and realized that he would be nothing without the person. These were one of those moments. Rarely had he ever expressed his true intentions and feelings, but he felt that this moment was better than texting him in the middle of the night to declare a million and one apologies in his name. That would be folly, and embarrassing himself was the last thing he wished to do. Jasper was— well, Jasper, and spoiling moments were things he just couldn’t help but doing. Whether or not he would spoil this moment was in the hands of the gods. He could feel the break in proceedings, the menacing silence that leaked tension. What was it that he had been waiting for? Jasper uttered every single feeling he had, yet his significant other had just been standing there. Could it be that he was as nervous as he was? Jasper shrugged it off, knowing that Beckham would come along in time. It was true, and the junkie found himself looking up into different hues of gloom and want. It was fascinating, really. “I—…” Started Jasper, heart racing at an irregular pace. This probably might have been one of the most important days of his life. With Beck’s consent, perhaps they could be together again, avoiding life in solidarity and sorrow. Jasper had been broken, but he was better at hiding it. For years, he had to put up with his father’s rebukes, which were far worse than what anyone would think. He had to endure sixteen years of that, until finally he decided to move out. He had to look down to avoid the other’ gaze. Concealing his inner emotions were almost like a sport to him, and inside his head he always won. “I was hurting, but do you think that I would go crawling to you every single time I felt alone? I had to move on, which was what I tried to do, until I realized that I can’t look at anyone the same way I used to.” Words just kept crawling up his tongue like some sort of escaping inmate. It made him want to chastise himself, primarily because this was so uncharacteristic of him. Had love driven him out of his comfort zone? “I tried girls…” He mumbled, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “That didn’t really seem to work out.” Beckham’s inquiry brought him to look back up at him, eyes glimmering with what one would have thought was adoration. “I don’t know. Guess we’re just following our instincts.” Finally, he decided to stop speaking, realizing that the other had been drifting towards him as if he were some sort of magnetic field. Instantly, he stood up, feeling himself crawling right back into the arms of the person he swore to himself he’d never see again. Call it what you will, Jasper was smitten.}