Clarity

19

OLIAS

I recognized him the moment he opened the door.

From pictures on the news and posts on social media about the accident. I recognized him.

I tried so hard for her. She wanted a peaceful dinner.

So it was either I threw up my stomach or I lost control out there in front of Denzel, her father. The man that crashed into my sister's car.

The man who killed my family.

He was texting. I hadn't known that I thought it was just my sister's car that was the problem. No, he wasn't looking at the fucking road.

And while he's in his fancy fucking house with his family, with only a lost leg as his consequence, Vanessa and my parents are dead.

My head's spinning, Clarity's image in front of me swaying. I think she's crying. I'm not sure. Or it's me who is? Both, most likely.

My mouth waters again.

I think I might—

I lean over the toilet again, hawking up more of the food I ate minutes ago. It tastes equivalent to what I assume battery acid tastes like.

Clarity runs the water, a cabinet shutting before she drops back beside me. "Here," she whispers, rubbing my back, her voice uneven.

I turn, take the wet cloth, and wipe my mouth, sitting back down.

Clarity stares at me, wearing that dress I picked out for her. She looks so pretty. Maybe if I think of only her, this hurt in my chest will disappear.

"I had no idea, Olias. I pinky promise it," her words struggle to leave her throat. Her eyes flood with tears, and her lips part slightly as she raises her pinky.

I shake my head, blinking. Tears fall from my eyes down to my lips, and I lower my head away from her. Not because I care if she sees me cry, but because the last thing I want is for her to think I'm mad at her or blame her because of their non-changeable relationship.

I wipe my eyes, looking back up, and shake my head at her pinky. "I believe you, Clare," I say. "I can't—" I pause, "I just can't be here anymore."

She nods instantly, sliding over to sit beside me. She kisses my forehead and says, "We're leaving, okay?"

She leans back, coldness replacing the warmth on my forehead that her kiss had given me. I hold her jaw, lowering my head.

"You want another forehead kiss?"

I nod.

She kisses my forehead many times. Her contact relieves my body as if she’s my remedy. My Clarity.

Clarity stands up with my hand still in hers. "Come on. We can go, and I'll give you all the forehead kisses you want."

That doesn't sound bad at all.

I stand up, gripping her hand and keeping her as my will to stay straight. Maybe it's this fucking house, bad energy, or some shit trying to bring me down to its floor.

"I know what else you need," she says, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and then hugs me quickly. They'd be so proud of how strong you're being," she mutters against my chest as I hug her back, nearly lifting her off the marble floor.

My face softens—this girl, man.

She's the only thing keeping me from bursting into tears.

I love her.

I love her so fucking much.

But I can't tell her that because I want her to believe me when I say it truly. I want and need her to remember for the rest of your life the moment I finally say I love her.

She pulls back and smiles. "I'll do the talking."

I nod, washing my face and mouth quickly before following in her hand as she exits the bathroom, scrapping my face of all emotion.

Just look at her, and everything will be fine.

Her small heels kick on the wooden floor as she walks down the hall, her brown hair flowing behind her. A small circle cutout on the back of her dress shows her defined back. Does she even have flaws?

We enter the living room, and Clarity walks us over to the door. She pauses, grabs our coats, and hands me mine.

"Clarity," Clarissa says, looking at us from the couch. Regina and him are probably about the house somewhere.

Clarissa wears a sad pout on her face. "You can't be leaving so soon. We didn't even get to do my Lego house," her bottom lip twitch's and I feel fucking horrible.

Seeing Clarity cry breaks my damn heart, but seeing Clarissa cry, who's nothing but a spitting smaller image of my girlfriend, eats at my soul.

She blinks tears.

"Issy, I'm sorry—" Clare stops talking when I kneel in front of her sister. She's twelve, and she's short. Probably nearly five feet. And it doesn't help that I'm six feet five. So I drop to one knee.

Lifting my hand, I take off the red ring I wear to match with Clarity today and give it to Clarissa. "Here, take this. It's something special to me, and it reminds me of your sister. So I'm giving it to you so you believe me when I say we'll come back to pick you up, alright? And your Lego set."

Her eyes light up, twinkling. She looks at the ring, taking it in her hands. "I'm gonna go to your house?"

I nod, looking up at her. I wonder if she's what me and Clarity's daughter would look like if we ever get to the point of having children. As beautiful as Clarity.

"Yes," I take strands of her long hair between my fingers.

"And you'll give me piggyback rides?"

I smile, sniffling from my previous crying. "All day long."

She grins and looks at her sister. "Hear that, Clarity? We can have a sleepover! I've never had one before."

Clarity bounces, genuinely as excited as Clarissa is. "I'll text you when we're picking you up, alright Issy. Don't tell dad until then."

I stand back up, sliding on my coat as Clarity opens the door.

We say bye to Clarissa, but before I can shut the door, she calls out to me. I turn back to her, and she's running towards me to engulf me in a hug, her thin arms wrapping around my torso.

I stumble a step back, laughing.

These Reds and their hugs. I fucking love them.

She looks up at me. "And the best brother award goes to you."

Vanessa would've loved them.

I grin, lowering myself to kiss her forehead, "We'll be back soon, alright?"

"And don't lose the ring," I add on, and she nods frantically as if accepting the challenge of keeping it safe.

The sound of heels hitting our ears makes us rush the last goodbye. I can't handle seeing him. I might turn into someone I don't want to be. Someone who hits people who can't defend themselves. I don't give a shit who they are, if it's not equal, I gain nothing.

"She loves you," Clarity says, speaking of her sister.

Do you love me?

"Maybe even more than she does me," she laughs, shaking her head and pressing the elevator button.

"There isn't a limit to the amount of love people have for you, Clarity. Pretty sure it's impossible to pass it."

She squeezes my hand, leaning into my shoulder. "If you say so."

I know so.

Walking in the elevator, she checks her phone, threading her soft fingers back in mine. I like that she doesn't stop touching me. Just like me with her.

She nudges me with her elbow. "It's almost six o’clock. What movies do you want to watch when we get home? A Marvel one?"

Home?

Home.

When we get home.

My heartbeat quickens, and I find it hard to breathe now because of my passion for her. This elevator is too small to fit everything, suffocating me with my own feelings for her.

She called my apartment her home. Saying it in my head doesn't even make me believe it.

"Olias? Are you going to be sick again?" she asks.

Yeah, lovesick.

I lean down, take her face in my palms, and kiss her.

She gasps, sinking into my lips, her hand traveling to my neck. I pull away as she stares into my eyes, breathing heavily.

"What was that for?" she asks.

"Because you're my girlfriend. And it was a thank you." I peck her lips again, wishing I could kiss her forever.

I shake my head at the string she has me tied to on her finger.

This girl could completely shatter my heart if she wanted to, and I'd let her.

"And we're not going home just yet," I add.

"Oh... where're we going?"

The elevator door opens. "I'll show you. It's a few minutes away." Walking out, I can feel the curiosity jumping off her bones.

"What is it? Tell me," she squishes my hand.

I don't even glance at the woman at the reception desk. If I did and she did something slightly irritating to me or Clarity, I don't think I'd be able to hold back my words like I did upstairs.

Getting outside, I walk to my car, opening the door for Clarity, and then getting into the driver's seat. We can't just go home after what happened. She was so excited to spend it with Clarissa, and despite how well she's hiding it, I know she's sad. "The night is still young. I know a pretty fun spot. I think you'll like it."

I start the car.

"Is this our first date?" she asks.

Driving, I turn to look at her. I didn't think of it like that, but now that I am... "Yeah," I realize. "It is."

***

I open the door to the lounge.

It is a bar, restaurant, and stage—all in one. It used to be my favorite place to go.

I watch as Clarity looks around. It isn't a big place, but it's big enough, I guess; the soft lights and neon signs make it feel comfortable.

"This place looks cool," she whispers.

There's a counter for food orders in front of us, and off to the side are a few open seats in front of the small stage. The rest are filled with middle-aged people who probably don't have a family to go and eat with for Thanksgiving, so they come here.

And then there's me, bringing my only family here.

"I'm glad you think so. Is there a drink you want? Alcohol; a soft one?" I want her to remember this night, meaning she can't get drunk.

She shakes her head. "I don’t drink."

That’s not surprising; with her mother's history of substance abuse, you never know what may get passed down and all. "Okay. Do you want food?"

She shakes her head, laughing. "I just finished eating, Olias."

Oh yeah, right. I'm the one that threw up the food, not her. Still, I wouldn't say I like the fact I'll be the only one eating, but I nod, ordering our drinks and my food at the counter. Clarity turns to watch a guy performing on the small stage, sitting on a stool.

"Ollie, nice to see you," Lee Pang, the cashier I've known for years, greets me. After he moved here from Asia, this was his first job, and I was his first regular customer.

My gaze drops from Clarity to Lee, who wipes down his counter. "I'm Sorry to hear about Vanessa and your parents. I'm glad to see you doing well."

I look away to the floor at the mention of my losses. "Thanks."

I used to come here so much that when I tended to go MIA for days, Vanessa would come here first in search of me. People began to know her as much as they did me. She'd pick my drunk ass up and drive me home. Each and every time.

"And who’s she?" Lee points to Clarity, a few feet behind us. Her eyes are fixated on the stage. A girl is on it, singing a song with the band behind her.

"That's my girlfriend, Clarity," I respond.

He huffs a laugh. "What happened to the I bring no girls here rule you had?"

I shake my head, still staring at her. The singer ends her song, and the people listening start clapping; Clarity claps with them.

"A special place for a special girl," she deserves a unique date. "Fuck that rule."

Lee laughs. "Ah shit, my friend is in love. Do you know when it'll be my turn? Hook me up with those college girls. Specifically, an Asian."

I laugh with him as he passes me my food and drinks from the chef, wishing me luck on this date. I get to Clarity, and she takes the drink in my hand. We sit at an empty table, taking our coats off to get comfortable.

A guy on stage reads poetry that he's made in the background.

"I've always wanted to go to a place like this," Clarity says, sipping her drink. Almost forgot she isn't twenty-one and can't enter one herself. "Can I get arrested for being a place that has a bar?"

I shrug. "Not unless you try to get an alcoholic drink, but you aren’t."

Clarity eyes me as I bite my hamburger and sip her hot chocolate. I raise my brow. "What?" She looks almost sad. "What's wrong?"

She shakes her head. "Oh, nothing.” But her eyes glance at my food, then at the guy singing on stage.

I stop chewing, fuck.

I knew I should've just ordered her food, too. This is the number one rule when ordering food in front of girlfriends. And I fucked it up.

I lower my hamburger, then slide the plate towards her. "Take it."

She connects her brows, shaking her head. "No, I said I wasn't hungry."

"I don't care what you said. It's what you want now. So take it."

"Olias, you need to eat. I can't just take it. That's not fair." She slides it back.

"Fine, I'll order you a plate then." I go to stand, but she stops me.

"No, please, I'm not that hungry—"

"So you are hungry?" I catch. Women are difficult.

"Okay, yes, but just a little. I'll be fine."

"Baby, I can't eat in front of you knowing you want some. Even just a little." Leaning up in my chair, I reach for the napkins holding utensils and slide out the butter knife. Then, I cut my burger in half. "Here's half."

She bites at the inside of her cheek as she looks from the split hamburger to me. "Thanks," she surrenders. She takes her half and starts eating it.

I knew she'd eat it. It's hot, a girl who's not afraid to eat as much as she wants.

For the next hour, the food was gone, and we only sat in conversation. She's on her third hot chocolate. I mostly just listened to her speak about things even if I had no idea what she was talking about.

She can ramble for hours, and I still won't be bored.

It went from her saying she really likes cookies and misses her old room to her now saying she wants a wedding in a bookstore.

"Why a bookstore? That's… different," I say, sipping my drink.

She brushes her hair behind her ear, "Because I used to be a reader. Well, I still am. I just haven't had the time. My room at my mom's house has at least two hundred books. Being surrounded by the things you love while also marrying the person you love sounds freaking super— I mean, it’s incredible."

I nod. "It does sound amazing."

Bookstore wedding. Noted.

I turn to the stage, where a man who has finished singing a song walks down. As an idea sprouts, I stand up from the table and slide my chair back in.

CLARITY

I tilt my head, watching Olias stand from our table. "Where’re you going?"

He points to the stage, and I'm even more confused. Is he going to read poetry?

I watch as he walks through the several tables, being excused by people blocking his way until he reaches the stage. I slide onto the edge of my seat, curious.

The orange lights above the stage glint off him, and the rest of the place is low-lit. He talks to the drummer like he knows him. They share a laugh and a nod, and Olias grabs a guitar and hooks it up to the speaker.

His black attire is still on, and he looks fresher than ever as he sits on the stool, guitar in hand. He adjusts the microphone to reach his mouth and clear his throat, the sounds rippling through the room.

"My name's Olias," he introduces. Several people wave at him from down here.

"And, uh, I don't usually come up here much," he talks slowly, his words almost sounding like he might cry or he’s nervous, "If at all even. But there's a girl in here. My girlfriend, actually, who means... everything and so much more to me."

My eyebrows raise, and the people around me are in awe of his sweet words.

His eyes find me in the small audience and stay on me. "And I love her," he croaks, his voice cracks, dropping his head to hold his composure before looking back at me. "I haven't found the right moment to tell her. But I love her, and I'm shit at words, so I'm hoping this song can tell her my feelings better than I can," he strums the guitar.

My mouth stays wide open at everything he's just said, eyes blurring.

He loves me.

He stares at me as he drums the soft and slow melody.

The first line escapes his lips naturally, and emotion is in his voice, meaning every word he sings as he continues. The room around me seems to disappear, my gaze stuck on Olias, the lyrics falling through my ear and claiming my body. Tears prick at my eyes at his rough, almost tired-like voice. It's beautiful.

A tear also drops from his eye.

I put a hand over my mouth, the soft lyrics hitting me like a train, knowing these words leaving his mouth are for no one but me. The drummer behind him begins playing, mending his sound with Olias' guitar, which he plays flawlessly while singing.

A man with endless talents.

I know we met on a rooftop, but I wouldn't change a thing in my life if it meant not having my Olias and I meet. The inside of my body hurts with the need to touch him. He's everything I've ever wanted.

When he finishes the song, his voice falters to end it all, and he licks his lips. The small audience claps at his performance. Most, if not everyone, had been listening.

Those green eyes of his never left mine, and they still don't, watching me weep and cry an utter mess. My bottom lip extended, and my breath hitches and cries.

He pulls his eyes away from me, lifts the guitar off him, and stands. "Thank you," he mutters into the microphone.

As he stands up, I do, panting and finding it hard to breathe through my stuffed nostrils. I zig-zag through the tables, and he notices me from on the stage, setting the guitar down and crouching, dropping off the stage.

I lift my arms, colliding with his hard body, and the sobs return.

His hands cup my head, wrapping the other around my waist tightly as he digs his face into my neck, gripping my hair like I might slip away.

"I love you too," I cry into his ear.

He stiffens, leaning his back. Dimple. It shows on his cheek as he smiles wide. "What?"

I sniffle. "I said I love you, Olias."

He laughs out a breath, kissing me hard. "Say that again. Slowly."

I smile, tears of joy still falling, "I. Love. You." I can't stop grinning.

He sighs. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear those words, Clarity." He kisses me again, holding my face between his big hands.

I didn't even realize the soft cheer of the people behind us, all congratulating and praising our relationship and our love for each other. He doesn't seem to notice either or care, his eyes only on mine.

I love this man to death.