#aulivia

ii. post fight (pre memory wipe)

People frequently comment on how keeping a relationship going for too long isn't easy, that people eventually get bored of each other, because they are still human beings and they meet failure. Love turns into some sort of hate and light turns into darkness — and right now, it's so dark. 

But Gus thinks about the fact that, since he was six years old, a day hasn't gone by when he hasn't thought of Liv.

i. first kiss (pre memory wipe)

"Two minutes, guys!"

Two minutes. "C'mon," she turns to give him a smile. Gus counts the seconds as they pass by. 119, 118, 117, and he keeps going even as Liv walks outside, right by his side. She's holding a red cup with a mix of one-third Tequila and two-thirds grapefruit soda in one hand, holding onto Gus's elbow with the other. She's not drunk, though. He knows she's not, she's only drank two sips off the cup, but she's still been nursing it since they got to the party. He thinks it's cute. Music blasts off the speakers pushed up against the walls. It sounds like noise, more than anything. Just noise. Gus is nervous, he won't deny it. He's funny, like that — knows himself and knows what he's capable of. They follow a small crowd of people to the backyard of the house — just to see the fireworks. Two minutes.

The taste of gin and vodka lingers on his tongue and the buzz in his ears is familiar, somehow. They’re not drunk. Gus’ eyelids feel heavy and his chest crinkles every time Liv laughs, his head feels completely numb — but they’re not drunk. If anything, they’re tipsy. The thing is that they shouldn’t even be drinking in the first place, like, at all. Neither is allowed to. Not like they’d ever be fully allowed to drink — no one is, really — but they’re not of age, yet. So that’s how they find themselves tiptoeing, climbing up the stairs of Liv’s house one step at a time, giggling softly and clinging onto each other so they don’t fall, trying not to wake her parents up and get caught, but mindlessly and loudly shutting the door to her room once they’re both inside. Gus laughs louder, tugging at Liv’s wrist and dragging her behind him. The back of his knees hits the edge of her bed, so he sits down willingly, pulling her next to him.

“Shh,” she reminds him, curling on the bed next to him as he laughs again. Liv lies back and her blonde hair look like a halo above her head, she’s got a ruffled look to her and it’s not solely down to dancing and drinking, he assumes. Her hair is pretty. Her eyes are pretty. Her smile is pretty, and everything about Olivia Whittman is pretty. He’s known that since the day they met, pushed it down and suppressed it with the ‘just friends’ part of his mind that kept repeating itself like a mantra whenever he came up with something close to the word love when he thought about his feelings for her. It’s scary sometimes, and other times it just seems like the right thing. Like it’s meant to be. But Liv has boyfriends and ex-boyfriends and, ironically, a best friend who knows he is everything she’s been looking for this whole time. A best friend who incidentally decided they are soulmates.

It isn’t a big deal, honestly.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Gus asks, eyes set on Liv’s even though hers’ are staring beyond him, at a random point between the wall and the ceiling. She doesn’t answer. Not right away, at least. A few quiet moments pass by before Liv purses her lips, “The stars,” she giggles softly, her hands shooting upwards and her fingers stretching out, “They’re everywhere.”

It’s not a lie. It’s dark but he knows her room’s got pictures and drawings of planets and stars hung up here and there, and those glow-in-the-dark plastic star cut outs he helped her stick to the ceiling that one time, and it’s one of the things he likes the most about her. She’s passionate and unique and wonderful and lovely and she loves stars. He kinda’, sorta’ loves her. In a ‘just friends’ way, of course.

“Yeah,” Gus mumbles, lying down next to her and staring up, just like she was before, “They are.”

They stay like that for a few minutes, motionless, silently staring at the plastic stars that don’t actually glow. He doesn’t really think about it, when he scoots closer to her. Liv doesn’t really seem to mind, either, and it’s okay. Gus turns to look at her, and they are so, so close.

Liv turns to look at him.

“Gus,” she says, so softly, and everything snaps quiet in his head. She sounds so innocent and the blue in her eyes burns brightly, drilling holes into his face and it’s so fucking quiet.

There’s alcohol still in his system and maybe he can use that as an excuse later. His head spins with every passing second and just looking at her is enough. He thinks it’s enough. Just friends, just friends, just friends. Her cheeks tint red and his heart beats wildly in his chest and it’s like everything shuts down around them as he becomes aware of how close he is now. He can’t stop himself before he’s whispering, “Shh, we’re having a moment.”

It’s not until he’s actually kissing her that he realizes just how much he’s wanted this. How he’s been waiting for it to happen again since las year, New Year’s Eve. It’s not the first time they’ve kissed. It’s not the first time he’s kissed her. And it’s not the first time she’s kissed back. It’s soft but he can feel Liv’s hands on his neck, pulling him closer. It’s soft but his own hands travel to her hips, keeping them both grounded.

They continue kissing like that, and Gus has a split second to panic about whether or not Liv is actually as into it as he is, or if she’s gonna hate him in the morning, or if she’s ever going to want this to happen again.

And then she pulls away.

Just a fraction, and her eyes are wide open and curious and staring so deeply into his’, Gus thinks his head might actually explode off his shoulders. 

“This is going to become a problem,” Liv mumbles.

“What is?”

"When was the last time we stayed up and counted the stars? I — I don’t… I can’t remember and it’s making me lose my goddamn mind. I can’t go outside without feeling like — God, this is so unfair, Liv. I miss you so much. I miss you so, so fucking much. I wake up in the middle of the night and I just… you used to be there. I don’t know how to wake up without you there and, fuck, I’m so cold. I — I think I forgot how to warm up and that’s the dumbest thing in the whole world, but I hate it. I hate that you’re not here anymore and I hate that you used to be the one who was always cold and, fuck, nothing makes sense. We were supposed to be forever.”

Beep.