Leawrites

"Love?" Grian called out, pushing the bedroom door open first. Trying to identify a breathing body under their covers. Though when he could see nothing and the moon wasn't willing to help him out, he turned the light on. Praying to find her cursing him out and urging him to make the darkness reappear against the discomfort in her eyes. Though all that the light revealed was an empty mattress and a discarded duvet, kicked to the bottom of her bed frame.

His journey continued down the hall, checking the kitchen and living room in passing. Looking through their storage closets just in case and their guest bedroom. She left him nothing to work with. Only one last unopened door that lead to the one place where the worst things were bound to play out. And every fiber of his body wanted her to be everywhere but there.

Stepping closer, hesitating by the door knob, he felt a soft breeze brush his tinted knuckles. The white tension losing itself from his muscles.

The curtains danced under the influence of their open balcony door. The outline of her wavering in the fabric. A new hint, one he missed in his tunnel vision made out of hectic and fear.

Turning off the light in the hall, letting himself be swallowed by the darkness of midnight. He pushed the curtains out of his way. Lingering by the doorstep, watching her sit with her feet resting on his designated chair. Looking over the city lights like a cobra into its prey's eyes.

Treating into her space without disturbing her peace, he moved to the second chair. Lifting her feet, sitting down and placing them back into his lap, beneath his shirt to keep her warm. His fingers moving over her calves and heels, losing the tension in her muscles.

"You've had me worried there for a minute," he whispered.

Following her gaze to a cat crossing the empty street like no one else but itself existed in this world. A bit further away, people could be heard talking, saying their fare wells in between drunk laughter before stumbling down the street with precision.

"You still found me in the end," she answered. Moving her sight over to him as the animal disappeared into a shadow she couldn't keep up with. "And I'm fine," she assured him. "Are you?"

"Better now," he confirmed her suspicion. Leaning his head back into the direction of the stars that could be seen from their spot but not the rest of the city. All the streetlights blocking them out when every possibility stood written in them. "I just wish sometimes that this quiet distance would be easier to handle. How I get up when you're already on your way to work and come home when you're half asleep on the sofa."

"It's not like this is every day," she argued, her heart churning at the thought of him feeling like he had to choose between her and his passion for music.

"But it's often enough to get me thinking: what if we moved on from all of this," he proposed the possibility of a different kind of future. One that tasted of natural disasters and luck that didn't need to be hidden away for the sake of it feeling intimate enough to enjoy.

"You don't want one of those futures though," she spoke his truth. "You might like the idea of it but the moment it would be your reality, you'd miss the guys and the studio and the crowds that sing your words with such enthusiasm and optimism for the youth of a new musical age." Moving her chair closer to his, resting her chin on his shoulder, cuddling his arm to keep warm in the cold of the night, she continued bringing him back down to earth. "And I love seeing you on stage and how you get when you've written something you feel proud of. I love the guys and being around them even when they get annoying at times. I love those random face-times when you feel to excited to play me a new song to wait for when we both get home. This isn't just a life you chose before you knew what you wanted, I chose you because of the person it made you."

Pressing his lips against her hair, he breathed her in before she could change her mind. Taking part of her optimism into his system and adjusting it to his needs.

"You're too good to me."

"You're not good enough to yourself," she said back. "But we'll get better together."

"Always."

"Forever."

Lasting one last kiss on her head, he took her hand in his. Pulling her towards him.

Shadows appear in the middle of the chaos, unmoved by the strange behavior of nature. They're dancing around each other, never touching. Moving like ghosts, floating in the air like smoke. Nothing could bring them together neither rip them apart. They were one while not being together. They were searching while ignoring what was in front of them.

For a moment it was quiet, silence stretching along the waterline, then humming started. They were singing. One melody, different keys.

I close my eyes, drifting off into nothingness. Listening to the sweet melody, bathing in the familiarity of it all. My body disconnects from by mind before consciousness comes over me again.

I am falling.

My body moves upwards.

My feet are in the air.

The cliff beneath my feet is gone and now I'm being carried by the wind.

I am floating just like the figures.

I go higher and higher until my head dips into the water, swallowing my whole body at last. It wasn't cold but it wasn't warm either. It felt like nothing. Blue turns into black in front of me, coming nearer with every moment but I don't feel the water. I can breath.

Two dots appear. Two glowing, orange dots in the middle of nothing. They disappear before returning. Repeating the choreographed game of hide and seek as I'm being sucked further down.

On the ground, grass is growing. Long ivy plants are scattered all over the place, hiding whatever hides beneath it. They were braided together like flower crowns we used to make in kindergarten. And in the middle of it all were two glowing eyes looking up at me, enchanting my soul with its secret. Whispering something that I can't understand. A foreign language that I haven't yet learned.

It was him. Scolding me. Telling me to run.

Water filled my lungs. How could I run from him? I don't think I am where he is, I am further down the west coast in a long forgotten bedroom with grey walls and tossed bedsheets that stayed undone for days on end. Splattered glass from broken windows scattered all over the floor, cutting whoever dared to take a step towards the exit. The wind outside tossed the waves against the shore up to the hill where we resigned and my feet washed blood into the ocean as the tide takes me down the dunes and to the iceberg waiting to be crushed. My skull was waiting to be crushed by it too.

The streets looked almost colourless if it weren't for the tainted orange being reflected on white buildings. The sun was at its highest point and his window stayed close to shield himself from the heat. Hers, however, was pushed open to catch even the slightest melody that would escape through the walls.

Sat on the windowsill, book abandoned on her lap, she searched the shadow on the opposite wall of his outline. Trying to catch the slightest hint that he hadn't forgotten their silent agreement and neither caught on to how much she looked forward to opening her window for him.

By three in the afternoon she had given up on the hopes of seeing him. Eyes focused back on the letters printed in fainted dark ink in front of her, her own record collection keeping her company when he wasn't willing to invite her in.

Together with a soft breeze the old wood of his window creaked open, slowly budging like he was forcing himself to push it open until the loud sound of it being all the way up made her head snap up. Finding a pair of hands gripping the frame, pale arms outstretched as if they've seen the sun for the first time in a while. He leaned further out, his forearms hitting the wooden frame, the shirt tightening around his biceps and she had to personally restrain herself from staring as his head poked out of the apartment she never saw but always heard.

His head moved into her direction without having to search whether she was sitting there or not. It was as if he already knew she was sitting there. Waiting.

"I don't understand how you survive in this heat," he commented, turning his head as if she needed no indication or hint for her to know who he was speaking to.

Slipping her finger in between the two pages she held open to reserve them in case this conversation lead down another dead road, she looked at him fully for the first time. His eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, the edges being overshadowed with unruly brown hair that was too long for him to look comfortable with it out in the open.

"I don't understand how you survive in this heat with a closed window," she said back. Angling her head to the side as a chuckle got caught in his throat almost like he didn't want his desire to win over his common sense for her.

"I don't think we've ever spoken face to face, only through the walls and open windows," he said, shifting his body weight to face her. "I'm Noel."

Muttering her own name, she finally laid the book aside completely.

"Your music isn't too bad," he said. A cigarette from his beaten up pack finding a new place in between his lips. The lighter resting in his palm as he still talked. "Did I influence you or is that all you?"

The fire sparked a sudden interest as her gaze slipped down to the light. "I've had this since 8th grade, this is none of your influence."

"Good, would be sad if I was all that you could rely on."

"Why's that?"

"I've barely had any originial thought since '95. The rest is all theft disguised as influence."

"I doubt that," she conquered. Shuffling closer, her feet dangling from the window, barely touching the small roof from the people living beneath her. "I heard you play from time to time, it doesn't really sound like anything I've heard before. It sounds nice."

"You might be the only person who thinks that." Glancing back to the guitar that leaned untouched against the edge of his sofa, the chords from last week still etched into his head like a broken record he liked to much to throw away. "Me brother's at my throat almost any second because I can't get a decent song squeezed out of this bloody head."

"Play me something then."

At the suggestion, he raised his eyebrows as if her request was a challenge he couldn't miss out on.

"Come over then."

"What?" Eli asked, throwing his hands up and his head back. The landing softened by her pillow that started to smell like him too. Arms stretched high over his head to cover his eyes and make the world go dark and quiet for a few more seconds. "Love, what are you talking about?"

Marching over, sitting on his half of the bed, she pulled her legs up. One of his hands instinctively reaching out for her skin. Pulling it closer until her thigh was pressed against his ribs. Kneading her tense muscles for them to relax while she was still going off.

"You have your own towel and your own side of the closet and your own mug and your own place at the dinner table and your own key. We share a bed as if we don't have one of our own as well, I know your coffee order and you know mine and we bring it to each other without the other having to ask. We know what movies we will both agree on are good or bad and we force the other to watch movies that we like but the other probably doesn't. Your mum called me on Christmas Eve! And mine called you too! And we act like that is completely normal for two people who agreed to be casual," she rambled, hands running through her hair before he caught them and held them to his chest. His heart beating through to her fingertips at the sight of her this enraged about something so simple.

"You think we're still casual?" he asked, grinning with a playful edge. The smirk evolving into a heartfelt laugh as she looked at him with confused shock in her eyes.

Sitting up, bringing his morning sweetness into her mess, brushing loose strands of hair out of her face, he bit his lip from laughing anew into her face. Only a small smile being able to break through. "I thought we were past that the moment I gave you my key and told you to come over any time you liked. Or when I played you songs with your name in them. Or when I told you I loved you for the first time."

Morbid, she pressed her eyes shut, the skin on her forehead creasing at the face she pulled. Praying to some force that she would wake up from a bad dream with some sense knocked into her. Though all she received from the universe was a guy with floppy dark hair kissing her shoulder and giggling into the fabric of her shirt.

"We're not casual," she repeated clearly. The statement falling easier from her lips than she anticipated them. The dreams she had previously to this revelation always made this confession out as something life changing. Though all it was was embarrassing on her side and hilarious on his. "We're actually, seriously dating and very much in love."

Nodding, the grin still breaking through, Eli said, "I am very much seriously in love with you, you stupid angel."

"Bastard," she shot back. "You could've told me, you know. Not leave me hanging and enjoying the show while I'm standing wide eyed next to you whenever you were actively doing boyfriend things in public."

"You looked cute though," he claimed.

Feigning hurt as she pushed his shoulder back. Grabbing her waist, the force of her hand wasn't much but it was good enough to make him fall back onto the mattress. Pulling her down with him, falling into twisted sheets, he kept her close as she tried escaping his hold with giggles bubbling out from deep in her stomach like carbon dioxide or sour candy.

"Alright, Eli, stop," she pushed back, trying to hold onto the bed-sheet to keep him from making her heart leap out of her chest.

"Say it with some confidence, pretty girl," he told her, hovering over her as she stopped fighting his tickle war attempts, pulling her further down by her hips. Eye to eye as he put in his request. "You don't sound like you actually want this to be serious."

Wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer to his face, she repeated his words, "I am very much seriously in love with you, Elijah Bob Patricius Guggi Q Hewson, and I would love nothing more than for this to officially be a very serioussly committed relationship."

"Good," he mumbled, leaning down to catch her lips. His chest pressing down against her, the added weight making her ribs widen to savour more air in her lungs though it didn't obstruct her from breathing. He still held himself. "But please don't use the full name again."

"I won't, I promise," she said, pulling him back down. Muttering against his lips, "Guggi Q."

"You're the worst." Shaking his head, Eli couldn't bring himself to actually leave her touch behind.

"You love me."

The clearblue was already buried in the trash, the plastic hidden beneath more plastic. Opening every closed package to get the result out of sight. If it was paper she would burn it, act like nothing ever happened, but burning this would mean burning herself and at that thought she wanted to throw up.

Wrapped up in his own confusion, Damon stood still at the beginning of the beach. Staring at her shivering figure, how her head was buried between her arms but her eyes set out on the sea. He had already caught sight of her from their hotel window. The first thing for explanation that came to his mind was the date. The day she despised every year anew, though it was one she could never avoid. However, the closer he got, the clearer it became that the pain was something new—something unknown to both of them.

Recognizing the pattern of his step, she didn't have to look to know that he had found her. Settling down next to her, hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweater, she didn't turn her head to make the red marks underneath her eyes know to him, but he saw them anyways.

"Love," he whispered into the creeping discomfort of her distance. Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. Letting her collapse into his body like a crumbling building did in the eye of the perfect storm. Without resistance or hesitation. Kissing her head in assurance that he was still with her every few seconds. Transferring his warmth into her shaking limbs.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she weeped in his arms. Digging her fingernails into his arms, clinging to him as if he was the only stone keeping her from falling down the cliff. Shaking from the force at which the sobs left her body. Hiccuping in a violent motion that almost felt like she was choking her heart up her throat. "I should've told you. I know that, but I didn't know how." Lifting her head from the curve that was created through his elbow. The grey fabric of his sweater soaked in dark sheds of misery from her eyes. Her lips shaking as she spoke, not getting out more than a few vocals before losing her breath. "But the damage is done. It's done, Damon. And I didn't tell you about it right away and I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about? What's wrong?"

Sucking in the last bits of euphoria she held within herself at the news before the anxiety could wash it all away, she took his hand. Caressing the soft and thin layer of skin that protected the flesh beneath, she saw it in her mind. The future they had wanted but never talked about. The gentle fear in his hold to break something that he owned entirely. She saw it, how he would hold their little life with the same gently shaking fingers in fear of messing something so delicate up.

"I know that this is bad timing for something like this, but then again, can something like this even be bad timing? And before you try to cut me short, please let me get this out of my system first," she said as she saw his eyes softening in question at her paraphrasing before he nodded in understanding, never leaving her physical nor mental surrounding. "I know how hard you've been working and you know that I wouldn't want anything to come between that—you and your work. But some things you can't control. And if I could control this I probably would've done it at some other point and place in time but I can't and now we're here. On a beach in Los Angeles out of all places for fucks sake."

Turning her head in frustration as if he could give her a comedic relief that he wasn't prepared for. A quiet understanding passed between them. It was now or never, all or nothing. And both of them wanted everything with everything.

"I'm pregnant."

And for him it felt like the world stopped as she muttered those words. An unsure smile wobbling on her face like a newborn trying to walk. The waves crashed against the shore and sounded like the nervous giggles that left his mouth at the revelation. His eyes searching her face for any kind of regret, his gaze moving with the wind in smooth motions, but all he found was a blank page that he had to turn to reveal the real story behind it.

Pulling her into his chest again, he could feel their stomachs pressing against each other. The new addition already pumping new blood through his veins. The feeling of something so small but so monumental pressing against the fear of not being enough for a life like this. A broken breath etched through the silence between them as she crashed into him like a change in the tide into the ocean. Damon's arm falling from her upper-body down to where the fabric of his sweatshirt covered their new found piece of heaven. Slipping his nervous fingers beneath it, pushing the fabric of her pants low enough to feel all of her still in it's given place.

"This could never have a bad timing," he mumbled into her hair. Kissing her head as her fingers dug into his shirt and through to his chest. "Not when it's with you."

"You're not mad?" she whispered, angling her head far enough back to look at him and still feel like she was hiding from something unknown. A certain kind of darkness that neither wanted to acknowledge.