by Nora Flite
“Still, I'm sorry.”
“It's really okay,” I said nonchalantly, “just one of those accidents.”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “So, it wasn't entirely an accident.”
Lifting an eyebrow, I giggled. “You wanted us to find you guys like that?”
“No,” she said quickly, her smile going crooked. “I meant, Tim and I... we weren't an accident.”
Scratching the side of my neck, I gave a tiny nod. “I was wondering. So, you two are...?”
When she answered, I saw a familiar delight in her eyes that I knew I had experienced only recently. “Dating. Yeah.”
“Well, that's good news, then.” My voice had a hollow sound to it; clearing my throat, I tried again. “Um. I mean, I'm honestly happy for you. I guess I'm just sort of... How serious are you guys?”
Her eyebrows rose into her hair. “Pretty serious, I would say. Why?”
Shrugging, I wandered over to the edge of the balcony. The place was empty, Deacon had put all of the art supplies away in case of rain while we were gone. “I was talking with Deacon. He was pointing out how it might be time for me to stop sleeping on your couch.”
Vanessa said nothing. Her silence made me turn, the wind pushing strands of my hair across my cheeks. I could see the relief in her eyes. “That's kind of good to hear.”
“Is it?” I asked, fighting a desire to feel hurt. This was the girl who had seemed so scared of losing me to my new boyfriend. Now, did she really want me out of her apartment?
“Leah,” she said gently, stepping close. “Even if I wasn't dating Tim, think about it. We should be past this point in our lives, crashing on couches and stuff. Don't you want to live somewhere that feels more like...”
“More like home?” I asked, thinking about how my parents had suggested I move in with them.
She came to stand beside me, looking down at the street below. “Yeah. Think about it. Wouldn't it be nicer?”
Struggling with my thoughts, I closed my eyes and put on a fragile smile. “I guess it would be.”
For some time, the only sound was the wind, gently kicking leaves down the cement below.
“Isn't it scary?” I whispered. My mind wandered to the time I had lived with Owen, the time where I'd had no where else to go.
Vanessa chuckled, her hands burying in her long jacket. “Growing up is scary, yeah.”
Growing up. I guess this is what this is.
“I guess things must have been good on your trip,” she whispered, casting me a knowing grin, “if he asked you to move in with you?”
I told him I loved him. He told me he loved me. Amazingly, I didn't blush. Looking up, I watched the grey clouds swirl above, knowing they would never drop snow. “Yeah. Things went really well.”
Reaching out, I hooked my arm into hers. Vanessa didn't react at first, her attention following mine upwards. “This is good for us, right?” She asked.
“Yeah,” I answered, musing over it even as I admitted it to myself. “I think it is. Growing up, like you said.”
“Starting to, anyway,” she laughed. “But yes. I guess we're finally on our way.”
Holding on to my friend firmly, we stood there for a long time. Just enjoying the breeze, and soaking in what felt like the last of an age where sleeping on each others couches was just a normal part of our lives.
So this is what it means, to grow up.
I wonder what else will change.
-Deacon's Epilogue-
The boxes were heavy in my hands. It was hard to believe that, after several hours of carrying them up and down the stairs, I was almost finished.
Wiping my arm across my brow, a heavy sigh escaped me. The room that had been empty the day we'd first seen it, now sat filled with a disarray of cardboard cubes.
We're really doing this, I thought in amazement, strolling across to the large window across the way. I've never lived with a girlfriend before. I wonder... I wonder how this will go.
Giving the news to Carlo had, initially, seemed harder than it turned out to be. He'd acted enraged, pouted and stomped around, called me an awful friend. In the end, he revealed to me that he'd been thinking it was time for us to move out into a different apartment, anyway.
Any question I had that he was secretly upset about the move vanished when he drunkenly admitted that he couldn't handle hearing Leah and me 'shaking the walls' anymore, as he put it.
It was an admission that had definitely made me blush.
Placing my fingers on the pane, my eyes floated around the view from the second story. It was a small apartment, but it seemed perfect for what it was.
A place for us, that's all we need.
Moving around, I spotted one of the boxes sitting on the kitchen counter. I'd marked it, so I'd know what was inside.
Smiling, I pulled out the small framed piece. Inside the glass, the painting of two swallows was pristine.
Carefully, like it might somehow dissolve in my hands, I took it over to the bare wall by the window. On a nail that had no doubt hung something far less meaningful, I placed the painting.
“Hey,” Leah said from behind me.
Turning, like I'd been caught in some inappropriate act, my pulse jumped. But, there was no judgment in her eyes; Leah wore the sweet smile of appreciation I'd come to love.
She was trying to carry a mattress, double her size, through the front door. “Could you help? This is huge.”
Laughing, I hurried over to assist her in dragging it into the living room. “Why are you doing this on your own?”
“It's not that heavy, just awkward,” she explained.
The building was small enough that it was almost a studio, the bedroom in the back corner, tucked away. It didn't take us much, working together, to drop it inside there.
“Perfect,” I said, dusting off my palms.
“Perfect?” She asked, hands squeezing her hips. Dust coated her cheeks, sliding down part of her nose. “An empty mattress without any sheets or blankets, in a tiny bland room. That's perfect to you?”
Stepping forward, I took her waist in my hands, wrapping my palm around into her lower back. Easily, she moved against me, her body lining along my chest in a smooth motion.
When I kissed her, she tasted salty and sweet. “If it's a bare room with nothing at all, an abandoned building even, I don't care. If you're in it, it's perfect, Leah.”
I felt her breath catch, thrilled at knowing I could make her heartbeat match my own in speed and temperature in a split second.
She reached up, sliding her nails over the back of my skull, feeling my hair. Our faces were so close, another kiss would have been a whisper away. “You're right,” she admitted, looking up at me through thick lashes the color of coal. “No matter where we are, or what we own... If we have each other, it'll always feel perfect.”
Holding her close, inhaling the scent of her, I sighed. “Leah, I have a confession.”
In my arms, she went stiff, chocolate eyes fixing on me in wary uncertainty. “What is it?”
Tracing the shape of her throat, my thumbs made a path over her lower lip. It was plump, yielding to my touch like cotton. “I told you before, that I thought you were lucky?”
She gave an imperceptible nod.
“The truth,” I breathed, watching my air shift the strand of hair across her forehead, “is that I think I may, in fact, be the lucky one.”
And I mean that, I thought firmly.
Leah said nothing.
She only pressed against me, everything flexing when she shoved me gently back onto the mattress.
Together, we collapsed onto the springs, wrapped in each others arms as tight as possible. I felt like I was in a cocoon, one I didn't ever want to escape from.
“I love you,” she whispered in my ear, lips forming a sound of raw emotion. “I really do.”
“I know,” I answered, finding myself lost in the curve of her ear and jaw. “If I know anything in this world, I know that.”
And really, I pondered, hearing her pulse in my ears as we lay together in the bedroom of our new home, our lives only at the cusp of starting together...
What else is even worth knowing?
END OF BOOK TWO
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Nora Flite is a simple girl with simple dreams, she's inspired by the events of her life and loves sharing them in her stories. Born in the tiniest state, coming from nothing, she embraces every opportunity to enjoy the good things in the world. As a kid, she often got in trouble for 'daydreaming' in class, and especially for sneaking off to pour over books in the library everyday.
Her favorite moment was always the bus ride to school, or from it, when she could read in peace.
She's also, possibly, addicted to coffee and sushi.
Not at the same time, of course.
Check out her blog, noraflite.blogspot.com, or email her at [email protected] if you just have some questions!
You can also join her mailing list HERE!
Table of Contents
Chapter 1.
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3.
Chapter 4.
Chapter 5.
Chapter 6.
Chapter 7.
Chapter 8.
Chapter 9.
Chapter 10.
Chapter 11.
Chapter 12.
Chapter 13.
Chapter 14.
Chapter 15.
Chapter 16.
Chapter 17.
Chapter 18.
Chapter 19.
Chapter 20.
Chapter 21.
Chapter 22.
