Beyond Love - Chapter 12: Chapter 12

A gentle hush cloaked the land. The faint bells of Christmas could be heard in the distance.
Warm lights from every house lit up the small town, as the pale moon hung—alone—in the sky. An existence crossed the street. A small, tiny; almost insignificant being.
He breathed in the freezing night air, hearing the weak beat of his heart tremble like the crushed wings of a bird. Still, he held his sister's gloveless hand—sharing the tearing bite of winter.
"Cold," She whined, feet aching. Hungry. Lost.
The boy forced a smile.
He told her that he'd find them somewhere to rest—soon, by nightfall.
She pointed out that it was already night. And that was all she could say.
The boy with the black checkered scarf laughed faintly; almost inaudible in this big, scary world.
He agreed.
For he, too—thought it too late.
They crossed the street hand in hand, and passed a mother with her daughter; who looked just slightly younger than the boy himself.
They met eyes for a brief second, and the boy—Xander—thought that she was, at least, going to wish him a merry Christmas.
It would have made his day a little better;
For it had been quite lonely indeed.
"Mom, they aren't wearing any gloves," The girl tugged on her mother's sleeve, pointing at Xander and his sister, Giselle.
He felt a pang of embarrassment in the abyss of his heart, and moved to block Giselle from her view. His sister didn't deserve to hear such words.
"Don't look at them, dear. It's rude."
Was it, really?
Xander began to wonder if that was the real reason why her mother didn't want the girl to look at them. Perhaps they were too miserable a state to look at. Perhaps she thought them far too pitiful.
At that moment, Xander wished someone would take them away.
Didn't they say that angels appeared on Christmas?
If so—where were they?
He walked faster, tugging his sister along.
His stomach made a strange noise, and he suppressed the yearning like he did a few hours before his mother's funeral. And after—when he had heard his father call the social workers to take his sister away.
And now; when he decided to take her with him instead, and perhaps...run to somewhere else.
A place where he could call home.
They came upon a split in the road ahead, and Xander wasn't too sure which way to go.
But he, being the older one of the two, had to make the call—no matter how young he was.
To his left, he knew, would lead to the orphanage. A place where, at least, he could remain together with his sister. Work something out, perhaps.
He just didn't want to be alone.
To the right, he'd have to walk a long way through the town to finally arrive at the train station. Where he would...as he planned, beg for some change.
In another world, one where Xander himself had given up on his world filled with demons, thinking how worthless it was for him to live—
He turned right.
But in this world—the world where he seemed to be numb of emotions and simply just, he thought, fading away into nothingness—he chose to turn left.
And so he made his way to the orphanage with Giselle in his hand;
Leaving the other path quite empty—
Except for the scent of freshly baked bread.
For this Xander,
There was not a single angel in this world.
__________________________________
Chip Honeycutt was a boring boy.
There was nothing interesting about him, really. He was just a boy.
He had a nice family, and two friends. Their names were Kim and Jack.
He liked baking.
He wasn't good at anything else.
He wasn't special.
And for all his life, Chip had thought so too.
There wasn't really any purpose in it, or so he thought.
He just lived for the sake of living.
Just like there wasn't a purpose for him to live, there wasn't a purpose for him to die either.
And so he just lead his entirely boring life the way he thought he'd live it.
Baking.
Eventually, it became quite mundane indeed. He was at the age where no one really bothered about bullying those who were wallflowers anymore. That was what he had learnt—to stay away, unnoticed. But perhaps it was because of this very reason that he began to lead such an...uneventful life.
He waited for no one.
He thought of nothing but baking.
He was, also, very much used to people leaving him.
And so he didn't really say much when Kim and Jack lost contact. He went to their houses, in the very least. Knocked on their doors only to hear that Kim had moved, and Jack was no longer in town.
They hadn't told him that at all.
But that was fine.
It was all...very fine.
Chip never had many friends. They said that he was...a little too nice. A little too perfect, in a very bad way.
They wouldn't understand when Chip said that he couldn't possibly lie to his sisters to go out with them to play. They left him. They also wouldn't understand his version of kindness. It was one that had no limits—an inhuman sort of kindness. It was beyond what one would call 'selfless'.
Chip had no understanding of what 'self' was.
His world simply composed of 'others'.
There was no him.
His kindness did not belong to a world like this.
And yet, that was all he was.
But there was a time when Chip began to doubt himself.
Because everyone told him to change—told him that a perfect being like him would do nothing for this big, scary world—he began...to stray.
For there was no one who thanked the angel in his heart.
No one.
No one.
Chip was;
Alone—
In his world of angels.
And he was beginning to feel lonely.
______________________________
Xander had a new girlfriend—that, the rest of the school knew in an instant.
She took her throne beside his at the dangerous table in the cafeteria; the one that everyone else knew how to avoid, for they were deemed unworthy of it. It was a table for the very few and the very select.
"I'm having a party this weekend at my summerhouse. It's by the beach, and I know my babe Xander would love it," She announced to the rest of the table, extending her invitation to these select few. "Great music, great drinks, many rooms upstairs."
The additional information yielded a satisfying reaction, and the table seemed to approve of Xander's new girlfriend with just this.
"Nice."
"Xander's one lucky bastard."
Blake rolled his eyes at those words, unsure about Xander's choice of girls. He seemed half-hearted all the time, as if he had them for the sake of having them.
Blake wasn't very close to him, and so he had no right to drop an advice or two—but perhaps as a fellow teammate, he wanted to check on his mental state sometime.
At least know what's going on in that dark head of his.
But it was hard to read Xander's emotions.
His face, though perfectly flawless—remained indifferent most of the time, with his signature smirk surfacing once or twice.
And that was all Blake knew about Xander;
He didn't know him.
In fact, Blake was sure that no one did.
No one knew Xander.
They knew his exceptional skills at beach volley; his jaw-dropping good looks; his well-built frame and untouchable air—
"I know," Xander smirked in reply; at the football guy who said something about him being a lucky bastard.
But there was something empty about that smile.
_________________________________
Chip's first love turned out to be the worst choice that his mind had made.
Of course, he had to fall for someone straight.
Of course, they had to cheat on him with another girl.
Of course, they had to deny that they ever had anything in the first place—
And of course, they had to say that Chip was a disgusting, immoral faggot that had forced himself on them.
And of course;
Chip had not the heart to hope or fight back.
Every last bit of the wings on his back seemed to fade away—
Like a forgotten painting;
A forgotten heart.
He began to wonder if he had any chance of being happy at all.
Was it because of this weak heart of his that he felt so much pain?
Was it all worth it in the end? When all they did was leave him behind, torn and tattered, thrown aside?
His heart hurt.
It hurt so much—
In another world, he wouldn't have mind.
There was nothing wrong with being hurt, in that world.
He would live with Love, no matter how much it hurt—
But here;
Now—
The angel—
The angel inside had become a slave to the devil.
____________________________________
Xander Jaxon was pretty much used to having a bad day—every day.
In fact, he liked to refer them as 'boring' days. Days that were uneventful were 'quiet' days. And then he had days like today.
Today was not a 'boring' day—for Xander was not having a bad day.
He was having a terrible day.
"What do you mean I have to pay for service charge?" A woman in a heavy accent was at the counter—raising her voice.
It was unfortunate that Xander had to be on manager duty that day, and he was sent for quite quickly. The staff at the counter were beginning to crack.
"I'm sorry Ma'am. Service charge is a fee charged to cover—"
"It does not exist in my country," She snapped, interrupting Xander with a flare. "And what service, exactly? I did not call for room service. No one served me at all."
Who'd want to serve you anyway?
"Yes. We understand Ma'am. It might be silly for a hotel to charge for services if they do not serve you personally. Nevertheless, we do assign personnel to ensure that your room is kept at the best condition, and to keep our guests safe, high-end security must be—"
"Who cares? Your staff at the counter have terrible attitude and I see no need to pay for such despicable service. They were so rude that I think hiring thieves would be a much better option," Xander saw, at the corner of his eye, someone who had just entered the hotel—and left soon after hearing the lady's racket.
"That girl was just talking back to me a moment before you arrived!" She pointed at a staff member behind Xander, and he began to apologize on her behalf.
He sucked everything up, restraining the urge to flip the woman off, told everyone to apologize to her—then bowed low.
"I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience."
.
"You're marrying this girl over here. Her parents are the owners of the Stilton line," His father dropped this the moment he entered the office. "We're meeting them for dinner next week, so read up on her likes and dislikes. Be nice, got that?"
Xander glanced at the profile Mr. Jaxon had thrown on his desk.
"Okay."
The world, though so huge, filled with so many eyes—seemed unable to see the now mechanical heart of his.
What's the use of getting her to like him anyway?
She probably had someone she liked already.
Maybe—for all his life—Xander had been cursed to have no one to love him. Ever.
Did Giselle even understand what love was?
Will he ever have a family?
What was a family, anyway?
Xander didn't even know what the fuck it was.
___________________________________
The hot cross buns sat in the oven, late one night.
Chip and Shea were hurrying to finish the last birthday cake that was to be delivered first thing in the coming morning.
It was a strawberry shortcake.
A pretty, delicate, simple strawberry shortcake.
He coated the strawberries in syrup, indifferent.
They had no significance to him.
The buns sat in the last whirring oven—only to be thrown away the next day. Chip didn't even know why they still had those on the menu.
No one bought them.
Bill came waddling in.
"Oi, hurry up. I hate waiting. If you guys don't finish in ten, I'm gonna lock up with you both inside, hear me?"
Shea rolled her eyes with a vague nod.
Chip didn't reply.
He was tired—so, so tired.
The devil inside him yawned.
__________________________________
Xander Jaxon would be an empty shell.
Chip Honeycutt would be a devil.
Perhaps this was what would have become of the two;
Had they not met.
But they did.
They did meet.
______________________________
A small figure crossed the street, a bag of hot cross buns from the bakery snug in his arms. He had a black scarf wrapped around his neck, gloveless hands touching the side of the warm paper bag. He was on his way home after locking up Baked Love—two people on his mind.
He wondered if his fiancé had a good day at work.
He also wondered if Giselle was waiting at home with Berry; craving for some pudding.
Then he smiled to himself—looking a little silly.
"Angel?"
Chip Honeycutt jumped, turning red with embarrassment for someone had seen his nerdy, goofy smile that wasn't particularly aimed at anyone. He turned to meet the only one who would call him an angel.
"Xan! You...you scared me there..." He said weakly, still startled. They had met at crossroads—and began to walk home together.
Home.
"How were the boys today?" Chip asked what had been on his mind, glancing up to get a good look at the one he loved. "Are they going to be ready by the summer tournament?"
"At the rate they're going—probably not," Xander laughed, walking close to the smaller frame. "Dammit, I don't recall high school teens being this dramatic when I was their age. They need to sort their feelings out."
"Eh? So...I guess they aren't mentally prepared, then?"
"Yeap. They suck at teamwork, honestly. Listen, there's this pair of troublesome kids—act like a complete couple but can't fucking notice the other's feelings."
His fiancé laughed softly, then poked his arm. "Don't be mean to them!"
"I know, I know...I didn't think being a coach meant so many responsibilities," Xander sighed, taking his angel's hand.
"Let's hurry. Giselle's going to whine when we get home. Also, I got some pudding for you two."
Chip blinked in surprise.
Was it a mere coincidence, then?
That they had both thought of the same thing?
"I got you some hot cross buns for supper," He smiled in quiet happiness.
Xander did, too.
"Really? I've been thinking about them all day."
They laughed, hand in hand.
And so they walked home;
In quiet happiness—
In another world.
In a world that, despite all odds—
Angels existed, and Love prevailed.
A world so possible—
If we just tried.
________________________________
This was how our story began;
With a radiant smile,
A black checkered scarf,
A hot cross bun—
No angels;
No devils;
No good;
No bad.
Just
Humans.
Humans—with Love.