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

bexutifully:

     _{There was a lot of things that one could say about Beckham, mostly negative with a glimmer or positivity here and there. But the bad definitely outweighed the good. It had all his life. No one quite understood the boy and he didn’t really understand himself. His brain was a mass mess of contradictions that no doctor, psychologist or specialist could work out and make sense of. Beckham though incredibly intelligent and had no obvious disabilities, had turned himself off in some way and they couldn’t pinpoint a source or cause. Since the age of seven he’d been treated for nearly everything. There was something there, but there wasn’t a label for it. So, instead he was diagnosed with nothing but medicated for everything. It was enough to screw anyone person up. Beckham hated it, he hated feeling so unnatural and unstable. He hated that he never had answers and most of all that it made people fear him and fear getting close to him. In turn he held people at an arms length away, never letting them in either. He was really just a ticking time bomb, no one knew when he might go off or experience some kind of psychotic break. Things had been better though— when he was with Jasper. He at that point in time felt stronger and more like himself then he had since he was a kid before everything took a turn for the worse. When Beckham was with the other his dull universe seemed to shine brighter and, as cliche as it all was, it felt like maybe the answer to everything was simply the other boy. Beckham didn’t think that he could be cured, but he did believe that he could be helped and that he could be pushed and taught how to be better. Now that he was standing so close, he understood it better than ever. His brain that was usually so consumed by other things was now only focused on one, his love for Jasper. He needed the other. Beckham took a deep breath and closed the remaining distance between them. “I can’t do this anymore— I can’t fucking live without you.” He whispered suddenly and urgently. Beckham had decided then that he didn’t want to play mind games, he didn’t want to jump around the subject and find ways to say what he meant without really saying it. He needed to be honest, for both their sakes. “Don’t move on, please don’t. Let’s just— get back to where we were. You and I, against the world. Forget everyone else, I don’t need anyone else, just you.” The young boy practically begged, running his hand through his hair. His stomach tightened and he felt like his heart might jump out of his chest. He was putting it all out there and he couldn’t handle rejection. Beckham’s eyes met Jasper’s as he finally found them face to face, millimeters apart. “I love you, Jas. I really fucking do.”}

      _{What was once temporary anger turned into jollity, though well concealed. For years he has suffered slights that many thought would fracture him. Everyone fractures, he would remember, but he wasn’t everyone. Maybe that was why he loved the other so much, because they were a diverse two. Beckham was complex, a puzzle that missed pieces. He wanted to figure him out, dissect every fragment of his past to develop a story. But that was impractical, which was what kept Jasper wanting more. The junkie relied on various opiates and sedatives to keep his fruitless life at bay, which was something men his age rarely did. He didn’t care for other people’s opinions, though. They were the last thing he needed, cynical views on his life. He wanted a kingdom with Beckham, and whether or not people loathed to see the pair of them together was not his problem. Love was a queer thing to him, and to have felt these feelings were as weird as first developing them. His lover’s words brought half parted lips to develop into a slight smile. Could he call it the happiness of success? “I.. I don’t know what to say.” Came the abrupt response, tongue caressing the bottom of his lip, emerald eyes staring into his significant other’s. What could he say? To let Beck have the pleasure of knowing he still loved him was enough, to take him back was another. Then again– he had been waiting on this moment for a year. This was his chance to turn a new leaf with this man. “Yes.” He said, letting the world roll of his tongue like thick sugar. “You—…” He stammered, attempting to get the words out. “You’re the only person I’ve ever really genuinely liked. The others, they’re nothing. I want you.” He felt himself giving into the other leisurely, letting his true quiet yearnings reveal with every second he stood there. He wants him and though his body did not respond to the sexual longing, he was sure that it would in time. To evoke his feelings with no hesitation was uncanny, something he would never do. Even now, he found it difficult to voice his desires and sentiments. At the sound of those three words, though, he couldn’t help himself. Gone was their personal space once Jas took another step towards him. He needn’t say anything, for his viridescent hues spoke all he wished to say. One appendage reached to push the other’s curls away from his face, shielding it from the tranquil winds of early spring. I love you more, I always have, he wanted to say, but nix left his lips.}