For much of his short life, Elijah found himself suspended between Existentialism and Absurdism, as though caught in a philosophical tug-of-war.
Books kept him afloat, giving him something to rely on.
On one side, Existentialism whispered that every choice carried the weight of meaning—that through freedom, responsibility, and authentic action, he could shape the essence of his being.
On the other, Absurdism reminded him that such meaning might be nothing more than a comforting illusion, that the universe remained indifferent no matter how desperately he sought purpose.
Yet the hot touch on his skin still lingered, a contradiction more persuasive than any philosophy. It grounded him and unmoored him all at once.
Alexei had insisted on sleeping in the same room.
"If you want me to get worried sick and then check your room every five minutes, sure, go ahead and kick me out."
Elijah knew the teen wasn't joking—Alexei really would come check every five minutes.
