#karo writes

The sky is clear tonight, well clearer than the usual spread of thick clouds obstructing the shine of the stars and moon hanging above. Tonight they get to shine, glittering formidably in the dark tapestry, luminescent with the wisps of clouds littered in the sky. But they don’t dare to stand in the way of the moon, letting her dazzle for the night, streaks of silver bathing whatever she wishes to.

Perhaps its why Jude can’t seem to look away, drinking in her presence, the glide of the cool wind caressing his face as it walks by and disappears behind him. The conversation around him seems a million miles away, voices muffled scratching the back of his brain, enough to lull him in a daze but not so much that it makes him completely adrift.  

He blames his surroundings for the sudden otherworldly sensation, being back in the suburbs of Birmingham, standing on the same patch of grass of his friend’s house that he used to stand on ages ago. It was nostalgic to be experiencing his old life again, giddy at the idea of it before but now as he stands, it feels anything but.

It's like someone has ripped off the filter from his eyes, the colours that once felt so bright suddenly seem so dull, the music that once he laughed around too making the tip of his ears ache, the weight of the drink in his hand suddenly feeling too heavy. Jude just hopes he’s doing a good job of pretending to listen to the conversation around him, nodding along and humming whenever appropriate before returning to look at the moon with a sigh. 

It’s when he’s glances down to the drink in his hand that you appear in the line of his sight, making him do a double take, immediately snatching his gaze back up, heart suddenly alert when his eyes confirm that yes, he did see you. And it seems he wasn’t the only one so enraptured by the moon’s allure, your eyes transfixed on the celestial body, leaning back on your hands with ease, legs criss-crossed with a scrunched up soda can in front of you.

Yet another thing that puzzles him. 

He had said hello to you, a brief hug even for old time sakes when everyone was gathered inside the house, chatting and catching up with each other. It was strangely formal, tugging at its heartstrings when the formality of your shared words finally hit him, rendering him shut and twisting away from the conversation, unable to hear another word about your big girl job in London.

Maybe it was more surreal because it was you that he was small talking with, once kicking each other over who got the ‘cursed’ playstation controller or standing outside doing bicycle inspections when you had gotten a new one on your tenth birthday.  

It all felt like a play; actors playing out his life in front of him on the stage as he watched in the audience, frustrated why it all felt so dull. Being so caught up in the spotlight maybe had turned him blind. Jude feels a nag in the pit of his stomach, a sudden urgency to be near you and apologize. For what? A lot. 

Jude smacks the shoulder of his friend nearby, muttering that he’ll be right back as he begins to weave through the crowd, smiling and sending out a few ‘hey’s to the people around him. He doesn’t let anyone stop him, determinedly walking with long strides, passing by the drinks table where he dumps his and picks up another soda can for you. The aluminium feels cold under his skin, the water droplets streaking its surface wetting his hand. He grips it tighter as he nears you, you still obvious to the happenings around you, still looking up. 

He stops at a distance away from you, clasping the can between his hands as he clears his throat to grab your attention. It does the trick, you peeking over to him from the corner of his eyes before turning your head to him, smile apparent on your lips. “Hey.” 

It jerks him forward, holding out the drink towards you, “Here. Figured you might want a refill.” 

“Oh,” You let out a laugh, “Yeah thanks. Didn’t feel like getting up.” 

Jude shrugs his shoulders, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “Okay up here?” 

You pop open the can unceremoniously, taking a sip, “Yeah, of course.” 

He dawdles. “Want some company?” 

“So formal,” You tease, noticing the way his shoulders just stiffen up a bit. You bite back your tongue, patting the empty space next to you, “Come. Sit.” 

He settles wordlessly with some distance between the two of you but not so much that both of your body heats mix in with each other. Jude mimics how you sit; legs crossed, head tipped up to the moon with hands splayed out behind him, fingertips gently brushing against yours. You don’t seem to mind, not pulling away so he doesn’t either.  

“I’m sorry,” Jude starts. 

“About what?” 

“About interrupting you earlier, inside. You were just telling me about your job and i just walked away.” 

You huff out a laughter, not in a mocking tone. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”  

Jude hums in reply, the silence comfortable as the two of you fade into the background, cocooned by the noise of conversation and gentle music. It’s nice, he realizes, falling back in step with you with such ease. He almost kicks himself about avoiding you all night. 

“You okay?” 

He snaps awake, eyes flitting to your form before returning to the sky, “Yeah, of course.” 

You make an indignant noise, finger tapping against the wooden deck. “You seem a bit out of it.” 

Words dry up in his mouth. He thought he had been parading around well, doing his part in the play and putting up an act, hoping no one realizes that he has been sitting in the empty crowd all along. But now it doesn’t feel like that, finding the seat next to his occupied by you as you look at him instead of the stage.  

“I don’t know.” is what he settles with because truly, he doesn’t know. 

“It’s being back here isn’t it?” You muse, a weight now latched to your voice. “Remembering it differently than how it used to be?  

Jude’s looking at you now, the cold breeze returning, twisting around the cocoon the two of you have created. Fucking hell. It’s like you wrote playbill yourself. Was it him? Or were you always sitting beside him and he’s only now noticed? 

You finally turn to look back at him, smile gentle on your face, taking another tentative sip. “It was so weird hearing you talk about Spain. The weather, your commute, the foods you’d recommend and must see places.” You twist the tag off the top. “It was you but it wasn’t you at the same time.” You throw it next to your previously discarded can. “Felt like characters in a movie.” 

Jude finally cracks a smile, not one of joy but more in disbelief, “Sounded like my mum back there didn’t I?” 

You laugh, a genuine sound that warms his heart, “Yeah a bit.” You sigh, settling back to your previous position, “Was so busy taking in everything that didn’t change that I forgot that I did.” 

Jude pauses, letting your whispered words wash over him. “You didn’t change.” 

“But I did.” 

“No, you didn’t.” 

“Did.” 

“Didn’t.” 

Jude doesn’t need to look at you to know that you’re rolling eyes at him. “So, you’re gonna tell me that you don’t think you’ve changed? Especially with being back here?” 

“No, I've definitely changed.” 

You sigh, throwing him a look. “And I haven’t? Explain that logic.” 

He pins you down with a look, unearthing you with his words. “You have. Just not in the way you think.” And it’s like he’s grabbed hold of the pen penning down the rest of the play, finally adding in details he wants, leading the story to where he thinks it should go.  

You shy away from his eyes, looking forward at the house, scanning the chimney up and down in the lowlight, still feeling his eyes trace your features. “Mrs. Park’s chimney is still missing a brick.” 

Jude laughs this time, a bit too quickly, turning his attention to the chimney to see the spot still empty, the change in your gaze tugging at something in him. “Yeah, it is.” 

“You knew I was in London.” The words tumble out from your mouth before you can stop them. “Why didn’t you ever visit?” 

He weighs the words in his mind, considering his options. He could use his usual ‘I was busy’ card. It always works, not really a lie and one that is easy to excuse with the passage of time. Somehow it feels insincere to say to you, knowing you would let him go if he says that. But he can’t say it to you, you’ve always been different for him, “Didn’t know if you wanted me to.” 

You let out a disgruntled sigh, nails raking against the surface of your drink. There’s a strange melancholy in your eyes, sending pangs of pain in Jude’s stomach. “Of course I wanted you to. I always want you to.” 

He tries one too. “Why didn’t you call or text me?” 

You open and close your mouth like a fish, struggling to say something. “That’s unfair. I asked you first.” 

“But why didn’t you?” 

You avert your gaze, looking sideways. “Didn’t know if you wanted me to.” 

Jude huffs out a breath in disbelief. He gently reaches out, caressing your chin and pulling you back towards him. “I always want you to.” 

You lean into his touch, closing your eyes and drinking it in as much as you can, committing it memory hurriedly should it be snatched away from you. His thumb brushes against your chin before he lets go, the warmth of his fingers still burning long after. Silence returns like an old friend as you look at him properly, tenderly taking in his features, unable to help smiling back at him.  

“I’m sorry home doesn’t feel like home anymore.” 

He shakes his head, dropping a wink as he leans his head closer to you, resting his forehead against yours. “It’s alright. You’re still here, right?” 

This is going to be Jude's breaking point, he swears it. He feels the same as the time when he had spilled ketchup on the sofa when he was twelve, swiftly turning it the other way around so that he would not get caught. The days following it were hell, stressing him to the point where he had broken down in confession to his mother not long after.

He knew he shouldn't have bought the ring so early, repeating the mantra over and over in his head that only purchase it a few days before he planned on asking the grand question.

But no, he had been unable to control himself and now it was to the point where the ring had done the grand tour of visiting his family, your family, his friends and yours, all cooing and gushing with happiness at its sight.

The weight of it burns in his pocket, paranoia eating away at him that you'll find it before he intends for you to. But who can blame him?

Jude is so excited to finally ask you the question, the epiphany coming to him suddenly one night when you had kissed his temple, mumbling goodnight, the scent of your lotion still lingering long after you had gone for bed.

He doesn't know why it was that but it was it for him, heart clenching at the thought of receiving a million goodnights from only you.

He is a fool though because he doesn't know where exactly to hide the ringbox, difficult to find a secret location after moving in together. Kitchen cabinet? No. Sock drawer? Nope. Medicine cabinet? Think again.

The only place he knows you don't use just as much is his kitbag but unfortunately for him that needed vigorous cleaning after collecting weeks of dirt and sweat so that had transferred the ring to the pocket of his sweatpants.

The doorknob begins to jingle, unable to open due to the lock, sending panic shooting through Jude's system as your voice filters through the wooden door. "Jude? Are you okay? You've been in there for a long time now."

The giant diamond glitters under the florescent light of the bathroom, Jude's eyes fixated on it as he delicately holds it between his fingers.

It's the exact same type that had your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when you had seen it at the jewellery store, staring at it longingly and then snapping out of it and dragging Jude away when you had seen the twinkle in his eyes, quick to avoid any jokes that were planning on leaving his mouth.

"Uhh," He fumbles, considering his options on what to do with the ring. Throw it? Fling it over his shoulder? Swallow it? Okay that is insane, the rational side of his brain finally waking up and telling him to put it back in the box and then into his pocket. He makes quick work of the door and throws it open, casually leaning against the doorframe. "Hey baby, what's up?"

You blink, leaning back to get a good look at his face, pressing your hand against his forehead. "Are you sick? What's going on with you?"

Jude huffs out a laugh, cupping his hand over yours and bringing it down to his lips, peppering your palm with kisses. "Sick in love with you."

"Okay," You roll your eyes, waddling back to your shared bedroom, "You're clearly alright."

Jude manages to calm his racing heart, patting his pocket to double check before following you to the bedroom to find a giant suitcase propped open on the floor. "Oh wow did you switch your smaller luggage for this big thing?"

You bite your lip, hands on your hips, "Well my stuff wasn't fitting into the tiny little thing?"

"Excuse me?" He laughed, jumping onto the bed and raising an eyebrow at you. "Mine all fit into the 'tiny little thing'."

"That's because you don't have a lot of things." You grumble, sitting down and resuming your packing.

"Love," Jude calls out to you, levelling a look with you, "We're only going away for a week on a little island and you're packing like I'm taking you away for months over the entire world."

"Well," You pout, heat crawling up your neck, "I can't be walking around with the same pair of shorts for the whole trip. I need my dresses if its hot, my warm clothes if it gets cold, fancy wear if we suddenly get invited to a party and a few extra in case my clothes get dirty!"

"I'm not paying if the bag is overweight."

A pillow comes flying across the room, smacking Jude square in the face followed by a light hearted giggle from you. "Like hell you won't."