Work Text:
Evbo didn't pick photography as his subject when he went to art school.
He had to paint a lot, he had to sculpt a lot. With the direction the world was speeding in, he wasn't sure what his place was within it. Art, in its essence, owned the last few corners left untouched by greedy hands. Though it might've been a mistake to pick something he wasn't exactly... the best at. He lacked motivation, passion, creativity, or so he had heard.
He found himself reaching for his shoddy second-hand camera more often than not.
Evbo loved exploring places he shouldn't. Climbing abandoned buildings. Scaling fences and jumping from rooftop to rooftop. He lived on the edge.
The building he was slowly traversing through was falling apart. It was in a forgotten corner of town, hidden amongst trees at the entrance to a forest, overgrown with greenery that seemed to thrive despite the harsh circumstances.
Evbo ducked under collapsed walls, jumped over obstacles, scaled it until he didn't have a safe way to get any higher. From up here, the rest of the world didn't feel real. His future didn't matter. Because he had somewhere to hide away.
Evbo reached for his camera. He peered through it, zooming in on a clearing under the building. His breath hitched as his eye found a person. Somehow, he wasn't alone in this place. They were sitting on a rock, resting and looking over the scenery in front of them.
Evbo itched to get closer, so he backed away from the window and slowly and methodically stepped down the stairs. He was careful not to make even the tiniest shuffle. Like a man observing a wild animal, he let the wind swaying cover his movement.
He found himself on the ground floor. Here, the building's collapse was the most overgrown with weeds. His footsteps made the quietest thuds as he stumbled his way over to peer around the corner.
The stranger had stayed where they were. As the sunlight filtered through the leaves, it highlighted their spot. Through his camera, he saw the light leave perfect lines dividing the composition. The trees, straight and narrow, filled the background. Their hair gained a bright purple shine in the light, nearing a shade of magenta. The image in front of him seemed as if hand-painted, thought out meticulously and orchestrated to the minute detail.
Evbo wasn't breathing when he was placing the figure on the intersection of the lines dividing the screen. He wasn't breathing when he tilted the camera so it was balanced. He wasn't breathing when he adjusted the exposure. He sucked in a breath as the camera shuttered, once, twice, before he relaxed his shoulders and brought it away to check how it came out.
It was perfect. Evbo, although with limited expertise, couldn't say he had seen a prettier picture before.
"It’s a bit creepy to photograph people without their permission, you know."
Evbo jumped out of his skin at the low, melodic sound. The stranger was standing in front of him, much closer than he anticipated. How long was he staring at the photo?
"Um," Evbo didn't know what to say. Mostly because, well, the other was right about that.
"Can I at least see it?" He held out his hand. Evbo's eyes lingered on it before placing the camera in his palm. He didn't hesitate for even a second, as if coming into this interaction he already knew he would comply with everything the stranger asked for.
The stranger hummed thoughtfully. It ran shivers down Evbo's spine. The sound left him hungry for more.
Evbo stared at his face. He looked transcendental up close, out of this very reality. His eyeliner framed his eyes, leaving intrigue in his image. His waves curled just right, leaving not a hair out of place. They cascaded down, down, as if yearning for the blades of grass beneath them.
"I’m sorry-" Evbo muttered. Usually, words didn't come so hard to him. He was a chatterbox of a boy. "I mean, for taking a picture of you. If it made you, um, uncomfortable."
He waved his hand. "Whatever, I can see why you did."
"Really?" Evbo leaned over, trying to get a second look at his work, as if he hadn't stared at it enough already.
"Yeah." The stranger leaned out of the way. Evbo realized and fled his personal space with haste. "It looks nice."
"Who are you?" He blurted out in embarrassment. The other's eyes narrowed. "I mean- What's your name?"
He chuckled, "that doesn't matter," and held out Evbo's camera. "What’s yours?"
"Evbo." He took it back.
"Do you take pictures of strangers often?" Seawatt, though Evbo would never find out his name, not until it was too late, raised an eyebrow. His smile was sharp.
Despite coming from an environment that urged him, Evbo never had such a strong need to carve someone's face onto paper before. He could see it in front of him, sketching out Seawatt and capturing his life, his essence. His hands curled into fists.
"No- I mean, no, not at all. This was the first time I’ve ever done anything like that. Sorry." He grinned weakly.
"Oh, it's alright. It was beginning to get a little lonely around here." Seawatt fluttered his eyes.
Evbo felt warmth emanating from the figure in front of him. Or was it a calm chill? He couldn't tell. Seawatt's image warped at the edges, leaving faint imprints of light.
Seawatt huffed. And Evbo knew, fundamentally, at his very core, that there was something he didn't know. Something that was hidden from him by the other. A deep hurt Seawatt was holding that he could never tear out. Despite never having met him before, he knew.
"Do you co- Um..." Evbo's brain was muddled, and he had to exert active effort to gather his thoughts. "I was here just exploring this building."
"Were you gonna ask if I come here often?" Seawatt laughed. It rang out like birdsong.
Evbo swallowed. "I mean- yeah..."
"I’m here more often than I’m not."
Birds chirped above them. The light followed Seawatt, as if constantly stretching for him, ordered to shine on his face. Somewhere, far away, water could be heard filtering through rocks.
"Come on, dance with me," Seawatt said.
Evbo didn't find it in himself to refuse. He couldn't, even if he wanted to.
Seawatt's hands softly touched Evbo's, as if merely resting on top of his skin. Together, they swayed. Seawatt led them on, and intrinsically moved through the space around them, the space that warped and swallowed them up.
If Evbo looked anywhere else other than Seawatt, he would've seen the trees moving along with them. Grass curling around his leg, a bush brushing up against his shoulder. Seawatt dipped him low before bringing him back. Their faces left only an inch between each other.
As soon as it began, it was over. Evbo's very fingertips clung onto Seawatt's form before reluctantly letting go.
"I hope to see you around. This is probably the least angry I’ve felt, despite the fact you've made a bit of a fool of yourself," he chuckled. "Well, maybe that's it. You're amusing." The insult, intentionally, didn't leave a single mark.
"Me too." Somehow, he didn't have to say more. Seawatt knew what he was thinking.
I want to come here every day. I want to bring a canvas next time. And paints and brushes. I hate painting, but I need to paint you. I need to document your existence, again and again.
"Probably shouldn't overdo it, though," Seawatt thought out loud, "you want to keep seeing me, don't you?"
"I do." And he did, he did, he did.
"Maybe you could help me step foot out of here someday, explore freely, move freely," Seawatt admitted. And Evbo wanted to jump on the opportunity right then and there. No matter what it would do to him. But Seawatt was leaving. Along with it, a deep pit in his stomach protested. "Goodbye, Evbo."
"Bye."
He stood there as Seawatt disappeared into the woods, walking off the pathway and gliding through the trees. It felt like a moment or an hour passed before his image was dispersing amongst the greenery.
Evbo left feeling lighter than air. He felt like he could fly. He jumped from building to building on his way home. He climbed higher and higher. And, probably for the first time in his life, he was left with a deep urge to pick up a paintbrush.
His teachers would critique him for his repetitiveness. But they would praise him for his newfound passion. Somehow, the world looked at his plight, and dropped a muse right into his shaky hands. Evbo would cherish the favor until it was taken away from him, as it eventually would be.
For now, he would always have a place to go. And perhaps he was playing right into Seawatt's hands. There was something he was using him for. But he felt loved by the forest, and it would keep reaching for him, keep pulling him back into its embrace.
Until one day, Evbo would be gone, as he would have to be, for Seawatt to be able to walk away.