Pierrot

“You should smile.”

Whenever she was feeling sad or lonely, somehow, there he’d be, and that’s what he would say to her. And it always worked, even if it was only a little twitch at the corner of her mouth at the familiarity of the words. But that was enough; it was still a smile to him.

“That’s better,” he’d say. “Now, see if you can do it like this!” And he’d stretch his mouth into a grin so wide that she was sure it must hurt his face, using his fingers to push it out as far as it would go, until she could do nothing but dissolve into giggles at the sheer ridiculousness of it.

He said he liked it best when she laughed like that.

~*~

The day he learned to juggle, he rushed to show her. When she laughed and applauded him, his grin stretched ever wider.

“Now I have something else to make you smile,” he said, and she couldn’t help but match his grin as he tossed the three juggling balls even higher in the air.

~*~

“What happened?” She blinked back her tears and shook her head.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.” He tilted her face up and looked her in the eye. “You aren’t smiling anymore.”

“What difference does that make?” she asked. His expression seemed determined and she didn’t understand the way he was staring at her, the other layer to his gaze.

“Because as long as you can smile, I know that you’re alright. Now come here, I’ve got a new trick to show you.”

And she let him take her hand and pull her to her feet and lead her away from that place. When she asked him again why her smile mattered so much, he told her that her smile was a beautiful thing, and that beautiful things shouldn’t be hidden away. She told him that it wasn’t nice to lie, even to make a friend feel better, and he smiled and told her that he had never lied to her.

At those words, she started to cry again.

~*~

He taught her how to walk a tightrope in his back garden, holding her arms out at right angles as she wobbled along between the two small poles.

“I don’t understand how you manage this,” she’d laughed as he stopped her from falling yet again.

“It keeps you smiling, doesn’t it?” he said simply. He walked along it after she finally gave up, and she was sure that he fell off on purpose, but she would have laughed either way.

“But you shouldn’t hurt yourself just to make me happy you know. Wouldn’t that make me the worst kind of friend?”

He only laughed as he dusted himself off, and she wondered, if he could laugh at his own hurt like that, how could she know if his smile was genuine?

~*~

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He didn’t meet her eyes until she made him, her fingers pulling at his face until he finally met her gaze. He was still trying to smile, but when he saw that there were tears in her eyes again, it slipped away.

“It didn’t matter, as long as you were happy.” She shook her head angrily and tightened her grip around his wrist with its myriad scars and marks.

“How could I be happy about something like this? Why should I have been happy when you were hurting so much?”

“Making you happy made it easier. Seeing your smile made it better.” She stared at him, speechless, before pulling him to her, her cheek against his hair.

“Don’t pretend anymore,” she told him. “From now on, if you’re sad, then cry. If you’re hurt, be in pain. Share it with me. I’ll cry for you if I have to.” She forced a small smile onto her face. “And then, when you smile, I can really believe it.”

She stood up and brushed his hair away from his face and smiled for him one more time.

"No more Pierrot, okay?" He caught and held her hand against his face for a moment, and his smile returned.

“Okay.”