Thirty-Two
Avory
The words hang between us as the silence leaves my nervousness to grow, to plague my chest with the chance that this could be the last time I see him. Sawyer. Sawyer with his curls which shine in any light, his eyes which mimic the colour of ivy crawling up cottage walls, his lips which always appear smooth and soft, and always feel like it, too.
My Sawyer… if he would like it that way.
He begins to shuffle in place, his arms tighten themselves around my neck as his lips press hard against mine, over and over and the breath from his words tickle the thin hairs on my top lip.
“You mean, leave Tetherton? Are you sure, Avory?”
While my name feels foreign since we call each other anything but recently, it just confirms that I’m not dreaming some sort of romcom, because I’d choose any nickname over my real name if it’s coming from Sawyer.
Our lips continue to meet, warming each other’s and our tongues tangling briefly before Sawyer pulls himself away once more.
“I’ve never travelled anywhere else; I’ve never known anything else other than here. I mean, damn it only a few days ago I dropped everything I’ve known for so long and- and—”
As I watch his mind begin to spiral, his eyes seeming to shake behind his eyelids, my hands reach for his cheeks and pull his forehead to mine.
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. I know it’s a lot, too much really, to consider in one moment but—”
“I don’t want to leave your side, Avory, but I haven’t experienced change in my life for so long. My life was repetitive, a constant cycle of desperate, stupid hope that one day I could have her appreciate me for once. For years, I lived like that. Then you guys came along, and suddenly, everything is changing, and while I can do this—”
Sawyer’s hands weave into my morning curls as he pulled his lips to mine, planting a gentle, warm kiss between us and I can’t help but smile against his soft lips.
“—It’s scary, Avory. Really scary. I mean, what twenty-year-olds are having to figure out who they are, what they want to do, where they want to be? In general, and in life?”
Tears begin to collect on his eyelashes, making them glitter in the light and I force myself not to gently wipe them away, one by one. Sawyer buries his head into the crook between my neck and shoulder and I wrap my arms around his waist, one hand rubbing small circles on his lower back.
His breath warms my neck as his lips move to my ear, his voice soft. “All I’ve figured out, is that I feel like you were sent to me for a reason, and I’m meant to be with you, and something feels okay with that being the only thing for certain in my life right now. You and I are okay.”
I smile at his words. He feels like I was sent to him, that we are meant to be together, and that’s okay. Sawyer said that’s okay.
My arms tighten around him as I pull my lips to his ear. “Say those last words again, Sawyer.”
He sits himself up as he shuffles around on my lap, his eyebrows furrow at my request. “You and I are okay?”
“Good. Now, say it like you mean it, baby.”
His gaze softens as he begins to piece together what he has just said. “You and I are okay, we are okay. Us, two guys, being together, is okay. More than okay.”
His eyelashes begin to glitter again, but this time, for an entirely different reason. A good reason. An amazing reason, because realising something about yourself that has always been there and has always been amazing, yet it has been dimmed and dulled by those around you for years, is a good reason to cry. I cave and finally wipe his tears with my thumbs, his cheeks cupped in both my hands as his tears roll down my painted nails.
“When are you guys leaving?”
His voice cracks as he speaks, but his beaming smile remains entirely.
“Tomorrow, ten in the morning.”
“Well, I guess I need to figure out what I’m doing. I need to at least go back and let Gwen and Xander know that you haven’t mauled me to pieces.”
“I mean, do you have to, though? Could you not just stay here until we leave?”
He chuckles to himself with my attempt to relieve his head of everything I have catapulted at him on this beautiful morning.
I pull his ear close to my lips. “We could do a lot more of last night?”
He bites his lip, his entire face flushing red as he buries himself into my shoulder. I’m going to have so much fun putting him in such a flustered state over and over, if he decides to join us. I hope he does. I really hope he does.
As he slowly reveals himself once again, he begins to lift himself from my lap and wanders around the flat looking for every radiator, collecting every piece of his now dry clothing from the night before. As the articles hang over his arm, his smile begins to lessen, and I find myself standing in front of him, hands on his waist, asking him what’s wrong.
“I don’t want to take these off.”
He signals to his outfit, and I wonder how he can become any sweeter, he goes and says that.
I kiss his forehead, my lips lingering against his skin. “Who said you need to change?”
I continue to adore his scarlet face as he leaves his original outfit on the bedside table, folded. As handsome as he looked in that outfit, I can sense an addiction growing to handing him as many items of my clothing as possible to wear.
As he checks his pockets for his phone, nodding to himself once he finds it in the hoodie pouch that he probably isn’t used to, I lead him through the flat door, down the creaking stairs and through the shop, reaching the front door. The front door which he turned up at the previous night, drenched, shouting through cupped hands, and throwing rocks at my window. The same door which a month ago, he ran out of in sheer panic from the woman who controlled his every movement. He’s come so incredibly far, it’s hard not to proud of him.
“Why are you staring, baby?”
Sawyer stands at the shop’s front door, his fingers laced with mine, and all I want to do is throw my arms around him, tight, and ask him to stay. Every time I’ve ever said goodbye to him, we’ve always risked it being the last time. This could be the last time I see Sawyer Sombre, and I would never want to forget him if that were to become true. I’d never want to forget the way his curls rest so perfectly on the top of his metallic glasses’ frames, the way his freckles map their own constellations across the entirety of his body but particularly his cheeks, or the way my clothes practically wear him.
“You are beyond beautiful, Sawyer, that’s why.”
His cheeks turn that familiar scarlet once more as he presses his smaller frame against me, both of his hands fitting perfectly in mine, and he gazes up at me with those emeralds of his.
Please don’t go. Please don’t leave that question clouding the stagnant air with if I’ll ever see you again.
“Avory, I need to go think everything over, okay? This is… whatever’s left of my life being uprooted and moved, and I would be leaving parts of myself here, too. Whatever happens, we will make us work, we have to work.”
Before I can begin to beg with every possible reason for why he should stay, his lips meet mine and I want to melt into him. Melt into the man who was once just some cute barista over a counter, however, is now someone who I want by my side. I want his hand in mine, his lips on mine, his eyes on mine, everything always.
I feel every crease of his lips slowly pull away from mine, and I wish for the print of his lips to linger on mine forever so I can always remember how he feels. His fingers begin to loosen their grip, the softness of his fingertips tickling across my skin and the overwhelming memory of my hands trailing the entirety of his smooth skin flood my mind.
He steps back, his hands wrapping around the door handle behind him, yet his eyes remain on me. Somehow, the silence which lingers between us, grows even quieter.
“Take your time, beautiful.”
The corners of his mouth curl ever so slightly as the creaking of the handle fills the room, followed by that damn twinkling bell, and finally, by the click of the wooden door filling its frame once again. My eyes fixate on his dainty hands as he scrunches the cotton sleeves hanging down his arms and buries them into the pouch pocket. He may be out of sight, but is it possible for him to ever be out of my mind?
“Hey A, are you ready?”
Marcus’ voice booms up the stairs, every syllable causing my chest to thump.
I’m not ready to go yet, because he’s not here. I continued to replay the last moments I saw him, his footsteps leaving causing his hazel curls to bounce, over and over until my mind exhausted itself and forced me to close my eyes and drop my weight onto the sofa. Marcus found me this morning, his hand gripping and shaking my shoulder, and yet rather than questioning why I was sprawled there and having to be brought back into the room, my mind imagined how creased and stretched my sleeves must be right now with Sawyer’s fiddling and twisting, but I wouldn’t want them any other way. I don’t care about what comes with him, I just want him and everything about him that makes him… him.
“Avory? I’m heading to the van, bud, don’t forget your keys!”
The entire flat has been packed away. The rooms remain exactly how we found them months ago since we have been making trips through the shop and to the van all morning, followed by deep cleaning and my constant surveillance of the streets, for him. I have already checked every drawer, cupboard and unit more times than I can remember in the hopes I’ll find something we have forgotten. If I find something, then that would give us more time before we can leave. It would give him more time.
I have never felt ache like this. An ache strong enough to steal the breath from my lungs, to rob me of the tears I am desperate to pour out into this empty room, to rip me of any of my own thoughts since I’m drowning in every memory of us, of what we were. I force air into my chest, past my lips in a desperate need to hide my state from Marcus.
I never knew that love could ruin someone.
I lock the front door, spinning the keyring around my finger so I have something else, anything else to focus on as I take each step slowly. My steps echo in the now empty shop, all the wooden furniture piled and tucked away in the back corners. In between the stacks of tables and chairs stands the door which leads to the room which made me realise that I adore Sawyer.
In, hold, out.
He taught me that.
In, hold, out.
I force my eyes to leave the door behind me as I drag my heavy body out of the front door, locking the shop door one last time. I don’t want Marcus to see me like this because he’ll know what’s wrong, and then he’ll ask what’s wrong, and if his name passes my lips, I know I won’t be able to control the tightness which is grasping at my chest.
That’s if I’m even controlling it now.
I exhale as I slowly turn myself around, and Marcus leans against the van with a soft smile on his face, and I believe that I have no chance at escaping his comfort right now.
“We don’t have to talk about it right now, or ever, Avory. Okay? Just know, I’m here for you.”
I curl one side of my mouth, but that’s all I can manage. His hand meets my back as he walks me to my side of the van, opening the door for me and letting me climb in. As much as I don’t need the passenger treatment, I know it comes from the place where Marcus’ great, loving heart resides.
Marcus clambers into the car, slamming his door hard enough to shake the entire van and the stock thrown in the back. With sombre silence lingering between us, Marcus starts the van and begins to slowly drive away and towards the coast, and all I can do is hide myself behind my hood and sleeves and watch Tetherton slowly disappear behind us.
That is until Marcus’ gasp fills the front seats, and the screeching of the van’s tyres follow. Both of our builds are thrown forward and luckily, only into the dashboard as our palms catch us both. As I turn to Marcus to figure out what the hell his driving has become and why it has taken me so long to learn to drive, my eyes are drawn to the burnt red van which has abruptly parked itself in front of us, in the middle of the high street.
As Marcus begins to curse to the driver in front, he cuts himself off as we both notice the gold cursive writing painted over the side of the van, sparkling in the morning sun – The Sweet Bakery.
I pull myself up in my seat, the seatbelt pulling me back, but Marcus beats me to it and unclips me. I turn to him and feel the most genuine smile grow on my face that I have felt since Sawyer. The slam of a van door in front of us snaps my head to face the red van finally pulling away and into a parking spot nearby, and the one thing I see, left standing in the road, is something I had solemnly accepted I would never see again.
Sawyer Sombre.
In his own plush chocolate shorts, with a tucked in ivy coloured shirt and knitted cream jumper, Sawyer stands there with his arms outstretched and his eyes wide. My entire being freezes to this damn seat as my eyes touch every part of him.
“Avory! Avory! Marcus, hey!”
His voice is faint from the inside the van, but Marcus shocks me from my seat solely from the volume of his excitement.
“Avory! Get out of the car and go to him, then!”
I nod as I throw the door open and my legs land on the tarmacked floor. I sprint the short distance between us because I need to feel him, feel his soft clothing and his even softer skin to know that he is really here. That this is really my Sawyer.
“Avory, my love, I’m sorry, I can explain—”
I don’t care. I cut off his incessant rambling, followed by his tearful eyes with my lips meeting his with full force. His arms wind around me tightly as he begins to dip towards the floor, our lips growing needier by the second. His tongue briefly finds mine, and I forget that we’re standing in the middle of the road, in front of anyone and everyone who could be strolling past. He’s doing all of this in front of a world which he was taught to believe would hate him for this, and that just makes me love him that much more.
As I feel his leg bending and rubbing against mine, my hand hooking under his knee, his entire body jumps as a squealing “woo”
begins from the pavements aside.
Gwen.
“Sawyer! You look so good gay!”
I pull my Sawyer back to his feet as he sheepishly straightens up his jumper and glasses, and I’ll never get over how adorable he can be. We turn together to face Gwen excitedly clapping her hands together and jumping while Xander holds his head in his hands, but Gwen soon grabs Xander’s hands and pulls him along to meet us, still in the middle of the road. We really should be glad that no other cars have tried to come down here. Gwen’s figure, even smaller than Sawyer’s, instantly wraps around me with her feet leaving the floor and her squealing filling my ears, as Xander gently pulls Sawyer in and holds him for a short moment.
“As much as I am unbelievably happy that you are here—”
I take Sawyer’s hand in mine, and he accepts, also winding an arm around my bicep and hugging close to my side.
“—Care to explain, any of this? Because until you came tumbling out of that van, I thought I had lost you. I thought we were done.”
His eyes meet mine and his eyelashes begin to glisten once again. He throws his arms around me and buries his head into my hoodie, his voice muffled.
“No, never, Avory. I’m yours. You’re mine. I need to explain everything.”