Chapter Text
-NOAH-
Having to ask your girlfriend’s sober housemate to come get you because you don’t have a car or money for an Uber is humiliating – but it’s still better than staying home with Nick after our… fight? We’ve never really fought before but it’s all we seem to do lately.
It’s probably my fault anyway, with the moving in and everything. I know Nick has never had to share his space with anyone the way we do now. Him and Stella have always had separate rooms so, this would be the first time he’s ever had to share a room with anyone. Technically I suppose, it’s my first time too. Being an only child has its perks, one of which being always having a room to yourself.
I shake the thoughts from my head as I walk up the sorority house steps to find Kassidy waiting for me at the door.
“Noah!” She exclaims excitedly and throws her arms around my neck, as much as she can, being an entire foot shorter than me.
Normally, I’d be happy to see her, but after earlier with Nick, her voice almost feels like nails on a chalkboard.
“Kass.” I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster and place my hands at her sides, subtly pulling her off of me.
“I missed you.” She pouts.
It had only been a couple hours since I last saw her and oddly, the simple words feel a bit suffocating.
“Missed you too.” I offer a tight-lipped smile.
The corners of her lips tug into a huge grin while she takes my hand and drags me up the stairs to one of the various rooms in the sizable home.
“You have this entire room to yourself?” I ask while taking in the bedroom. It’s bigger than Nicholas’, filled with a bed, a dresser, a tv mounted above it, and last but not least, a couch. Her very own couch.
“Yep!” She grins widely. “Most of the other girls have to share a room but I don’t – I think it has to do with my dad paying for a building or something.” She waves off the topic and plops down on her couch across from the tv and begins scrolling through it. “What do you wanna watch?”
There are certain things I tend to catalog in my mind that I like to call, “Never Knows” – these are things that I know I will never, ever experience in my life. Like being a NASCAR driver, or a popstar, or climbing Everest, or owning a mansion. Or even smaller things, like calling home and knowing someone will always answer or having just one pleasant Thanksgiving with relatives. These are things that are just impossible and improbable for me to ever experience.
Having a parent buy an entire building so that I get special treatment is definitely one of those things. I wouldn’t say I’m necessarily spending time with her because I want to marry her but, it makes me wonder just how fulfilled someone like her would actually be with someone like me as a husband. Another Never Know is knowing that I’d never be able to buy her a building of any kind, nonetheless a home.
She pats the couch cushion next to her, “C’mon babe, sit down next to me?”
“Yeah sure, um,” I run a hand through my locks and meet her on the couch with a forced smile. “Why don’t we just search romantic comedies and see what we find?”
“Sounds good to me.” She smiles wide and begins flicking through the romance category. That’s when I begin to daze out – whether it’s the alcohol or the weed or the fatigue of the night I’m not sure, but I can’t seem to latch on to any of the words she or the TV speaks. The only thing my brain wants to stick to is the last conversation with Nick. We’ve never kept secrets from each other like that before and definitely never lied. Is he lying to me? Maybe it is just the room situation wearing on us – that’s the only thing that’s really changed.
Kassidy nuzzles her way into my side with a blanket and I’m grateful she doesn’t pry into my silence. I don’t realize that we’re already halfway through the movie until I see the main characters share their first kiss. It’s cinematic, slow motion, twinkling, fireworks and it settles an odd, heavy pit in my stomach. Does that feeling only exist in the movies? Or is that something I should feel with Kassidy? Does she feel it? Is she supposed to? Am I?
Or is it another Never Know – is it one of those things where everyone else seems to experience something, except me. Would that sparkly feeling dance on my lips if Kassidy knew more about me? Would she even still like me if she did?
—————
It’s been about 3 days since I haven’t returned home after the fair. I thought it would be best to give Nicholas and I some space since the cramped room is apparently causing a rift between us. I would’ve probably gone home sooner if Nick had texted or called, but he hasn’t. He must be really enjoying his time alone.
3 days playing house with Kass and our 3rd time trying to hook up. Emphasis on try .
Everything’s so much more complicated and confusing than it’s made out to be in shows or movies or porn.
For how outwardly annoying Kassidy can sometimes be, in my time alone with her, I’ve found that she’s really kind. I’ve already made an utter fool of myself in front of her many times now and she’s been nothing but patient and understanding with me. She’s more experienced than I am so she’s been helping guide me through things, which has been both incredibly embarrassing and helpful.
Whether it was the nerves, the embarrassment or excitement, I’m not sure but it was making my dick not fucking cooperate. For three fucking days my shit hasn’t been working with me. Do you know how fucking embarrassing it is to try and hook up with a girl who is very clearly out of your league and not even be able to keep it up? Absolutely fucking humiliating.
I let out a small groan at the glimmer of hope that this might be the time I actually stay hard. I squeeze my eyes shut hard with my head hung back as she works her hand up and down my shaft. She’d already been jacking me off for over 10 minutes with me oscillating between me being hard and semi-hard. She surprisingly wasn’t taking as much offense to it as I expected, and when she posed an interesting solution, I knew this wasn’t her first rodeo with a virgin.
“It’s okay baby, just relax.” She hums and kisses my shoulder. “Why don’t you just… maybe think about whatever porn you usually like to watch.”
My eyebrows furrow with my eyes still closed and she picks up on it.
“Just focus on that and we can work on the rest later, okay?”
I give her as much of a nod as I can at the moment and try to do as she suggested. My mind tries to quickly filter and cycle to pinpoint the last video I watched and go from there. I finally remember but… I’m not alone in the memory. The last video I remember watching is the one I watched with Nick. As much as I try, the haze of my mind can’t remember much of the video itself but I can remember what he felt like in my hand – easily double my size.
My right hand suddenly feels so empty, so I reach over and find her thigh, giving it a hard squeeze.
“Fuck.” I mutter, feeling my chest rising and falling quicker now.
Then creeps in the memory of him spilling all over my hand and my mind runs with it before I can stop it. Unexpectedly, all my nerves rush to where her hand is working. It’s the furthest I’ve gotten so I just try and hold on to the feeling. The flashback continues until a part I had forgotten until now - taste of his cum on my hand. Then, a snapshot of him tasting mine. And abruptly I feel a familiar knot form in my stomach and snap just as quick as it began. My fingers curl, digging harshly into her thigh and into her sheets.
“Nick, fuck!” My entire body involuntarily flinches as my cock twitches and spills over her hand.
My eyes snap open wide at the ceiling at the realization of what fell from my lips. My inhales and exhales are rapid and staggered both from my climax and the sheer panic that washes over me.
What the FUCK?
When I finally look down at her, she’s smiling, not at all phased by what I blurted out in the moment.
“Told you we’d get it.” She gets up to wipe her hand off with a nearby towel.
As I lay there trying to gather myself, my brain can’t process the rush of thoughts that flood my mind. It must have been just a weird brain connection, right? It was a fluke, a mistake, a heat of the moment thing.
-NICHOLAS-
Noah hadn’t come home in a couple of days, which normally would’ve upset me more than it has, but I think I needed to be alone. I’ve really enjoyed the solitude but, I also miss having him next to me all the time. Even though it’s been less lately, with Folio and Kassidy and their study group, I can’t remember the last time he hadn’t slept next to me until now.
I took this time away from him to do something I didn’t know how I was going to accomplish with him around.
The long-haired worker inspects the broken guitar I brought in on the front desk.
“You said a man did this?” He questions skeptically with a heavily arched brow.
“Yes.”
“With his hands?”
“Yes. He’s scary.”
“Okay, well…” He sighs, “I mean, don’t you just want to replace the neck?”
“No.” I shake my head quickly. “No, no. It has to be all the same parts, all the original parts.”
“Why?” He tosses at me, sounding almost annoyed.
“It was gifted to my,” I hesitate for a split second though I’m not sure why, “to my friend by someone special.” I keep the explanation as vague as possible, not wanting to spill Noah’s family trauma to a stranger. “It just needs to all be the same.”
He looks over the instrument again and sighs, “I’m just not sure it’s possible dude. It’s a pretty bad break. It’s all splinters.”
My heart wants to plummet into my stomach, but I need to keep it afloat.
This isn’t for me , I remind myself.
“Can you just try?” I try to shield the desperation in my voice.
He lets out another heavy sigh looking over the damage once again. “Fine. But I can’t guarantee it’ll be fast. I have other instruments waiting for repair before yours, so it could be weeks, maybe months with how delicate of a process it’s going to be.”
“That’s fine. Just um, call me? Whenever you have an opening?”
“You got it man.” He nods.
While Jolly packs the guitar away I decide to peruse the rows of vinyl records in the shop. They’re all stored in wooden crates and alphabetized by artist. Half of the records were brand new while the other half were old and worn. My fingers flip through the thin sleeves looking for anything that catches my attention. I find a Deftones album I’d been missing, Diamond Eyes, the one with the white owl, and set it up front with Jolly to purchase before I leave.
After making it through the maze of records, I find myself in the area that was most interesting last time. I step into the sectioned off area that showcases all of the repaired and refurbished instruments available for purchase. I must’ve been more obvious with my admiration that I thought because Jolly spoke up from his nearby desk.
“You can touch them, try them out if you’d like.”
“Oh.” I reply softly and let my eyes land on the teal bass I was looking at. “Thanks.”
I precariously pick it up from its stand and sit on a stool beside it. I began just plucking a few cords, tuning the strings here and there before flowing into one of my favorite songs from the album I just set aside, CMND/CRTL .
“You’re pretty good.” Speaks Jolly from behind me, leaning on the dividing archway.
“Oh, thanks.” I feel my cheeks warm from the compliment.
“You in a band or anything?” He questions.
“Oh, no, I mean not really.” I laugh and shake my head at the idea of seriously being in a band. “Me and my two friends joke about starting a band all the time. We play all together sometimes but it’s just for fun.”
“Hm.” He hums, see-sawing his pen between his pointer and middle fingers. “Your lead singer plays guitar?”
“No – I mean, he does. He’s the one that owns the guitar.” I point back to the front desk where we spoke about the broken instrument. “But for the vocals he would want to do, it’s not really feasible for him to play guitar at the same time.”
“Well, what kind of vocals would he be doing?”
“I don’t know, screamy stuff, metal?”
“I see.” He sets the pen branded with the business’ logo down. “If you guys ever get serious and need a guitarist, let me know.”
“Noted.” I nod.
I sit with his words lingering in the back of my head. Starting a band was always something we kinda joked about but never committed to. Folio and I were down but it was always Noah who held back, not thinking he was talented enough to be a singer. He swore up and down that he didn’t want to be a frontman, never wanted the spotlight. So, we suggested finding a different singer all together, to which Noah was extremely against. Letting strangers in was never his forte - well, I guess until now, with all his new college friends.
The thought stayed with me entire drive home. If we ever gave it a shot, would it get anywhere? .
I decide to tuck that pipe dream away in the back of my mind when I open my bedroom door and find it still vacant.
I can’t convince Noah to start a band if he’s not fucking here.
—————
My eyes softly crack open to a sound my sleepy brain hasn’t processed yet. Once my ears acclimate and recognize the noise, I nearly jolt up straight from where I laid. I scramble to find the rattling that echoes from my phone resting on my nightstand. Noah’s name flashes across the screen and the panic I had just felt is quickly replaced with annoyance. I roll my eyes and slide the answer bar across the bottom of the screen.
“What do you want, Noah?” I ask with a sleepy grumble evident in my tone.
“N…Nicky?” Speaks an unsure, hesitant voice from the other end, one that isn’t Noah.
My brows furrow and my spine straightens sharply, now fully alert. “…Yes? Who is this and where is Noah?”
“It’s Kassidy.” The voice replies, and if it weren’t for the audible shake in her tone, I’d be irritated all over again. “Something um-“ Her voice cracks like she’s on the verge of tears, “Something’s happening to Noah? And I… I’m not really sure what but, I don’t know what to do.”
I let out a sigh and let my eyes close with the exhale. It’s only when both ends of our phone call are silent that I can hear familiar ear-splitting screams in the background.
“That’s him screaming?” I ask even though I know the answer. I lift my head and shake it vigorously to wake me up some more. “Okay, um.” It had been a couple weeks since Noah’s last night terror and each one has been different so, it’s difficult to navigate it without being there. “Usually, I just get on top of him and hold down his limbs as best I can so that he doesn’t hurt himself.”
I hate seeing him like that, it always looks like he’s in so much pain, like some demon’s got a hold of his soul. Hearing it is not much different.
“Okay.” She replies in a slight panic. I hear a shuffle on her end followed by an audible struggle – grunts and hisses from Kassidy who is sure as fuck not strong enough to get him down alone.
“Fuck.” I mumble to myself, pulling the skin of my forehead into a peak to relieve the stress growing behind it. I try my best to ignore the way my heart has been accelerating every minute since I answered the call.
Finally, I hear her voice on the other end, this time from further away like she put me on speaker. “Okay.” She pants, “What now?”
“I just call his name until he wakes up.” I shrug defeatedly. “But don’t cover his mouth.” I can hear that his screams have quieted a bit and hope that it wasn’t from her trying to stifle him.
The sound of her calling his name over and over in fear and desperation wasn’t something I was prepared to hear. It’s one thing to be the person doing it, but a whole other thing having to hear someone else’s attempt. While it was painful to listen to, it also settled a weird swirl in the bottom of my stomach. She’s doing my job.
Suddenly everything stopped – her calling and his screaming, he must’ve woken up.
There’s a silence on the other end that is near deafening, almost ominous. The seconds feel like hours until the phone is picked up again.
“I think you need to come get him.” Kassidy says, sounding absolutely lost and horrified.
“On my way.”
-
I wasn’t sure what exactly to expect when Kassidy led me to her room. Maybe I thought he’d just be sitting there, ready to go home or pacing, but that was far from what I walked into.
My eyes first land on her bed, empty and disheveled, evidently where everything had occured. My brows furrow at the discovery and it only takes a quick scan of the bedroom to find him curled up in the corner of her room.
What the fuck?
In the couple times he’s had night terrors since he’s moved in have never ended up with him like this. I carefully make my way over to him and crouch down beside him. Hesitantly, I place a hand on his shoulder from behind. “Noah?” I whisper.
A tiny sniffle comes from him but not much else. I test the waters and place both hands on him and when he doesn’t react, I use my strength to turn him around. Again, what I expected is not what I got. I anticipated him to be crying, usually after a night terror he cries but not this time, at least not anymore. His eyes look puffy as if he’d been crying but they’re mostly dry now. His arms are tucked tightly around his torso and his knees almost up to his shoulders. His dark brown eyes are blown wide and staring right past me into the darkness of the room. His eyelids barely close and his breathing is still heavy. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’d seen a ghost.
I figured that once he saw that it was me, he’d react in some way – maybe positive that I showed up, or maybe negative that I interrupted his time with Kassidy, but it was neither… it was nothing. As if he didn’t realize I was even there. When my eyes trailed back to Kassidy, I noticed that I don’t think he realized that she was there either. Or, if he was aware of our presence, it meant little importance to him in whatever weird state he was stuck in.
“Did he have anything to drink?” I ask Kassidy and it unintentionally comes out with an accusatory edge.
She chews on her thumbnail as she looks upon the scene and shakes her head.
“Smoke?” I press, bringing myself back up to my feet.
She shakes her head again, “We just watched a movie and fell asleep.” She states simply. “I-I don’t know what happened… is he okay?”
My eyes flutter to the ground then over to my shivering best friend. “I don’t know.” I breathe out truthfully. Something then crosses my mind that I hadn’t quite thought of until now. I turn my head back towards the blonde, “How did you know to call me?”
She shrugs, “You were his emergency contact.”
A train feels like it rushes through my chest at her words, blowing hot steam through my ribs. Emergency contact. Out of all people, he chose me. I guess in the grand scheme of things, it makes sense for it to be me I just… never imagined it would be. I never thought that I’d be the one he’d trust the most. At 19 being an emergency contact seems strange, unnatural. What 19 year old is at all prepared to be an emergency contact?
I want to say that he made the wrong choice, that I’m not reliable or qualified enough but, I know I’m the only one who’d show up.
I crouch back down to him. “Okay Noah, I’m gonna take you home now.” I speak to him like a child since I’m not sure exactly what he’s able to comprehend at the moment but I just need to get him out of this stupid sorority house.
“Home.” Is the only thing that leaves his mouth with his eyes still focused on something distant on the ground.
“Yeah, let’s get you home.” I nod and choose not to make a big deal out of him finally speaking.
I hook my arms beneath his shoulders and use all my strength to yank him to his feet. I hook my arm around him and help him walk out of the house. It’s slow and robotic, like maybe he is still asleep.
Kassidy looks like she wants to help, wants to do more but she doesn’t know how. She watches from the steps, gnawing on her thumbnail as I help him into the passenger seat. I snap his seatbelt into place and close the door.
“Here.” Kassidy hands me a grocery bag full of his belongings. “This is what he brought with him.”
“Thanks.” A sharp pain slices through my stomach as I take the bag from her, knowing that this is all he took in a rush from our house. A person watered down to just a bag full of clothes. “It’s a good thing you called me. I’ve never seen him like this.”
She nods, looking past me to the car, her own blue eyes red and puffy. “I’m glad you answered. I didn’t expect his emergency contact to be you, but I’m not surprised.”
My head tilts at her words slightly, “What do you mean?”
She shrugs and tucks a chunk of blonde hair behind her ear. “He talks about you a lot.” Her eyes finally trail back to meet mine. There’s something cloudy in them that feels hesitant as though she has more to say.
My eyes flicker at her statement. “He does?”
She sniffles a laugh, congestion still settled in her nose from her sobs. “Yeah, he kinda doesn’t shut up about you.” Her arms fold over each other for warmth as the night rolls in a chill. “He must really love you.”
It’s a simple statement. And not one that we’ve never said before. We’ve said I love you to each other since we were 11. He says I love you to my mom and to Stella. Love was never a question in my home when it came to Noah. But for some reason her words feel like a kitchen knife sawing through my intestines. It feels different now. After 8 years, how can the same 3 words feel so different?
I press my lips together and nod. “We’re very close, yes.”
“You’re very lucky to have his trust.” She says with a hint of sadness in her tone. He hasn’t shared much with me about his relationship with her, but it makes me wonder how much he’s letting her in; from her words, it doesn’t sound like much.
“I am.” I take a step back and thumb over my shoulder. “I should get him home now.”
She nods. “Text me when you guys get home? So I know he’s safe.”
“I will.”
When I round the car to the driver’s side, I feel something loosely moving around in the plastic bag as I walk with it. I open the bag to see a small, stuffed orange cat. It looks identical to the cat keychain he’d left me from the fair, except his was light orange with darker orange stripes. They must’ve been a pair.
A burning fills my eyes and I squeeze them tight in an attempt to halt any tears that threaten to escape. I don’t have time to cry right now, I need to get him home.
An ache swells in my chest, one that never seems to leave these days, and I can’t help but question when everything became so hard with us. Why does everything hurt so much all the fucking time now.
———
My fingers tap on the cracking leather of my steering wheel. The streetlights burn my irises and remind me just how heavy my under eyes are. I glance over at Noah, who’s curled up in the passenger seat turned away from me. His lanky legs are tucked tight against his chest and his thin arms keep them locked in place. His head rests on the door with his gaze set on the passing trees.
Why is this terror so different?
I’ve been battling with myself for the past 10 minutes on what to say to him, how to ask him what happened without causing any further damage.
“Noah?” I watch him for any movement, there is none. “Do you wanna…talk about anything?”
No response.
“Well, are you hungry? We could stop and get you something?”
No response.
“Do you want me to put on some music?”
No response.
I think hard about my next question because I’m not sure it’s the best choice and I don’t want to upset him any further, but it’s the only thing I can imagine that would make this time different than the rest.
“Noah,” I hesitate, “What did you see in your nightmare?”
His body tenses slightly, and while he hasn’t done or said anything yet, the energy in the car shifts. I feel a chill roll down my back and a pit in my throat that reminds me of being a child caught in a lie.
Noah never talked about his nightmares or what happened in them, and I never asked. Maybe I should’ve started asking sooner.
There’s a long pause, long enough to make me think he wasn’t going to reply and to let me focus on the road again.
Then out of nowhere, his voice cuts through the silence like a guillotine.
“Mom.”
My eyes widen and I swear I felt my heart stop beating for just a second. A deafening silence falls over the car, for a second I can’t even hear my obnoxiously loud engine.
Despite being as close as we are, I barely know anything about Noah’s family, especially his mom. I always had a vague picture of what his family structure looked like, but it was never something he spoke about, and I was rarely invited over. I knew something was wrong with his mom for a long time, something medical maybe. I remember Noah periodically canceling plans on weekends and skipping school because his mom was in the hospital for one thing or another. Maybe he mentioned something at the time, but I can’t remember specifics now.
When she passed, it was a shock. It was clear that whatever mystery illness that was landing her in hospitals wasn’t expected to kill her. The night she died was the only time I ever saw Noah grieve. He showed up to my house a disheveled, broken mess, as anyone would be after losing their mother. He sobbed in my bed until he fell asleep but when I awoke the next morning, he was gone. One week. He was gone for one week. Radio silent, not online, not answering phone calls or texts and absent from school. When he returned, it was like nothing had happened. He was perfectly normal.
I bite down hard on my bottom lip and feel regret coursing through my veins.
“I’m sorry.”
———
Getting Noah into my house was about as easy as getting him out of the sorority house. Though, he seemed magnetized to the bed, as if laying in it would take all of this away.
I let him collapse onto the mattress while I set my keys on my dresser drawer and support my weight on my palms against the cold wood top. I let out a deep sigh, trying to expel any heaviness weighing in my lungs.
Within minutes I hear small noises I’ve come to recognize as the sounds of Noah sleeping. Knowing that he’s asleep eases my anxiety just a tad, maybe the night will heal whatever battle he waged with his mind tonight.
I strip off my jeans and change into striped sleep pants, and crawl into my designated spot next to him. I lace my fingers over my chest and let my eyes get entranced by my ceiling fan. I watch it spin until I feel my eyelids feel heavier than my body wants to carry and curl myself away from Noah, tugging the duvet to cover my eyes.
For the second time tonight, I’m pulled out of sleep by unexpected noises. This time, they were gentle.
Soft sniffles intrude the silence of the room. I blink sleep from my eyes and rub my right one as I turn towards Noah. His sniffles halt the second he senses my movement.
“Noah?” I ask in a whisper.
No response.
“I know you’re awake.”
He lets out a quiet sigh before turning to lay flat. The moonlight shining through the window highlights the rivers of tears that had been streaming down his face. He quickly uses his arm to wipe them away, “I didn’t know you were awake.”
“Well, I wasn’t, until now.” I lay my head on both my hands in a prayer position looking over at him. I allow the quiet hang in the air for a bit before I speak again. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
He sniffles as he goes to respond but chokes and waterworks let loose, his eyes screw shut and squeeze all the salty water out. His whole body shakes and with every sharp inhale I can hear how much pain he’s in.
My hands and arms burn and I’m not sure why, but something in me screams to touch him. So, I reach out and before I even touch the hair on his arm, he rolls into me, burying his drenched face in my chest. His arms wrap around my waist tight, almost cutting off my oxygen but I stay perfectly still. I didn’t expect this, I just meant to hold his arm or something, but here he is latched onto me. It’s more than I was willing to give, but it’s clear it’s what he needs.
I follow what my body tells me to do and wrap my arms around him to pull him closer. His cheap, woodsy body spray fills my nostrils and it’s some sort of silent confirmation that I did the right thing. He feels comfortable in my arms, almost like he’s the perfect size for them. I rub the length of his back, “It’s okay, it’s okay.” I reassure as if it would really do anything. “I’m here.” I whisper and rake my fingers through his hair. He seems to like this because his wails soften as I do so.
By the time his sobs taper off, my Star Wars shirt is soaked and it’s quiet, so much so that I think he might’ve fallen asleep. He finally pulls from me and wipes his pink and puffy eyes. “Thanks.” He says sheepishly.
“Of course.”
“And thanks for picking me up.” His voice is quiet and barely audible with his gaze down and away from mine.
“Always.” I reply without a second thought.
“Always?” He looks up at me with big brown eyes that somehow always make me so painfully malleable in his hands.
“Always.” I answer then realize that my fingers are still tangled in his hair, though he doesn’t seem to mind. I get an idea. I recall something that I did the first time he had a terror that seemed to soothe him. “Actually, I’ll make sure you remember.”
His brows furrow at me in confusion as I take a chunk of his hair from the nape of his neck and overlap three silky parts together. “There. Keep a braid in your hair and I’m there with you, always.”
His hand goes up to find the braid I had just woven and rubs it between his fingertips, and my stomach twists at the small smile that forms on his lips. As his fingers trail the length of the braid, his nose scrunches up in curiosity. “Why a braid?” He asks with his head tilted slightly.
I shrug, “I don’t know. It’s intertwined, like us.”
It was the truth. For as long as I can remember, it had always been Noah and me. Noah and I. Wherever I went, he followed, and wherever he went, I was right behind him. Every decision we made involved the other, whether it was choosing complementary Pokémon games so we could trade or picking songs to learn on the guitar so we could play together. We were a duo. A pair. A combo.
A package deal.
He silently blinks at me before reaching out and taking my own hair into his fingers. I still my body as he carefully sections three pieces of my hair and begins to cross them over each other. His actions are slow and intentional like he’s trying to make sure it’s perfect.
“There.” His arms pull back delicately, only to find my hand and guide it to the braid he just made. He presses my fingers into the woven strands. “Always. Like us.” he repeats, like reciting a secret oath, and I nod in agreement.
His eyes trail up from the braid to meet my gaze. He looks so... pretty in the moon"s glow, and my eyes don"t want to leave his, especially not after what he just swore to me—what we just swore to each other. It"s special, no matter how silly it may seem. I brush some stray strands of hair out of his face and gently tuck them behind his ear. His mahogany eyes shift back and forth between mine, like he wants something from me, but I"m not sure what.
In a split second before I can even process what’s happening, every muscle in my body tenses and my eyes widen more than I ever thought possible. Soft, cushion-y lips press into my own and cold hands hesitantly cup my cheeks. It’s only when he pulls away that I realize I haven’t sucked in a breath for what feels like hours. He backs away slightly, his eyes analyzing me like I’m a petri dish under a microscope. His stare darts across my face, as if he’s ran some sort of experiment and is waiting for a result. My cheeks burn hot in embarrassment for what just happened and for being studied so intently. I’m ready to dismiss the encounter entirely, but he’s just staring at me with eyes as wide as saucers.
“Still always?” He asks barely audible. “Even after…?”
“Yes.” I don’t even have to think about it. “Always.” Not even a millisecond after the word leaves my mouth, he joins our lips again.
The kiss is long, slow and sweet but hesitant, fidgety and nervous. My heart races so fast in my chest that I can feel it drumming in my ears, in my throat, in fingertips. All I can think about are his lips, and his hands, and how close his body is to mine. Kissing Noah wasn’t something I ever expected to do or even ever thought about. I never imagined how his lips would feel like on mine, but it surprisingly doesn’t feel…weird. Not as weird as I would’ve probably thought beforehand.
The kiss is sparking and warm, not so much like explosions but more so a crackling fire. It’s comforting, like a physical manifestation of the feeling that comes from being around each other — like the gentle warmth of a shared space that feels safe and familiar. It just feels like an extension of us.
I mirror his position and rest my hand on his cheek which prompts him to lean into the kiss slightly. After a couple more seconds of our lips pressed together, he pulls away. He searches my face the same as he did before, just softer this time, less frantic.
My body reacts to him in ways I never expected, like the way my thumb instinctively brushes gently across his cheekbone. My heart swells the way he leans into my touch.
“I’m sorry about your dreams.” I say quietly.
“I’m sorry for bothering you.” His eyes dip down.
“You never bother me.”
The edges of his mouth curl up in the same way they do when I tell him he’s a good singer when he claims not to be. I can tell he doesn’t believe me.
“I mean it.”
His eyes flicker down to my lips again and linger there. It makes me want to kiss him again but before I even get to move towards him his focus snaps back up to me.
“We should try to sleep.” He says quietly.
I watch him and notice how fidgety he’s gotten and how he can’t look at me anymore.
I press my lips together and nod. “Yeah, it’s late.”
“We have class tomorrow.” He replies, as further cushion to his sudden reasoning to sleep.
“We have class tomorrow.” I repeat, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice.
“Yeah.” He whispers, barely audible. “Goodnight Nicky.” His chestnut eyes flicker back up at me.
“Goodnight Noah.”
He gives me a tight-lipped smile before flipping away from me. I let out a silent exhale I didn’t know I was holding and let myself return to my original sleeping position facing the window beside the bed.
A part of me – a large part of me - doesn’t want the night to be over yet. Maybe this is just a dream I don’t want to wake up from, because like in a dream – nothing makes any sense yet feels so normal, so right . Waking up means having to make sense of something that maybe we should forget… but I don’t think I want to forget.
It’s only after I settle in under the covers and am on the brink of sleep that my heart suddenly drops to my stomach. My eyes fly open only to be met with darkness.
I kissed my best friend and didn’t hate it.
I kissed my best friend and didn’t hate it.
I kissed my best friend,
And I liked it.
Shit.