Chapter Text
Belly emerged from the water, anew. Her past with Jeremiah gone, all that remained was a lingering sadness and sense of betrayal. But it would pass. He wasn’t her future. She dried off, staring at the ocean. The tide was low, aligned with the moon. Growing up, she had always thought that it was the most romantic thing. The moon controlled the waves, and they wouldn’t exist without it. The moms would always say that Conrad was the sun for Belly, but the more that she had thought about it, Jeremiah was the sun, bright and always there, and Conrad was the moon. He had such a grip on teenage Belly, and he wasn’t even aware of it. She was the waves, forever at his mercy and forever changing their course. His mood swings and indecisions rocked her like no other. Now, he was stable. He had grown and changed. So had she. They could coexist without damaging each other. Maybe there was a possibility for more than a simple coexistence, but now was not the time to test that theory. Jeremiah, bright like the sun, took from Belly like the heat radiating from the sun took from the ocean. She didn’t even realize how drained that she truly was until she had finally let go.
She turned around and saw him. His hair was a mess, wild like the wind had gotten ahold of it. By the looks of it, he had just gotten back from a run. She took a deep breath. Things were different. 24 hours ago, she was so certain of her future. Now, it was anyone's guess. But she knew, deep down, that he was somehow a part of it. Maybe she always did; even when she was engaged to his brother, a small part of her heart ached every day for the boy who taught her how to dance. The boy who baked her muffins and promised her everything, and then more.
He hadn’t seen her yet. He was standing in the kitchen as she looked at him through the glass doors. She took a deep breath and opened the door as he looked back at the sound to see her coming into the house. He was standing over the stove, cooking something. He had his running clothes on still.
“Good morning,” he greeted her with a genuine smile before turning around and continuing to work on the eggs he was cooking.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, as two plain bagels sprang up from the toaster.
“Uh, yeah, I guess.” She responded before quickly adding, “Thank you for staying with me last night. I know that was a lot of me to ask, and I really appreciate it. I was a mess yesterday.”
He looked up at her, meeting her eyes. He opened his mouth to say something before stopping, finishing buttering the bagels, sliding a plate with some scrambled egg and a bagel towards the bar, and motioning for her to sit. She sent him a grateful look before sitting down and looking at him. He put grape jelly on his bagel and then came and sat next to her.
“Belly, you don’t have to say sorry. What you did, what you asked for—I get it. You never have to apologize to me.”
“Conrad,” she said, putting her fork down and twisting her whole body to look at him. “That’s not true. I’m a human; I make mistakes. I made a pretty fucking big one for four goddamn years,” she said, chuckling, before continuing, “But I’ve hurt you. So many times. And I owe you so many apologies. And you’re always there for me somehow, and I never deserve it. Even these past few weeks, I know I could be really awful to you, and yet you stayed and continued to help with everything that's been going on. And regarding yesterday, I don’t want it to have felt like you had no choice to come and help pick sad, broken Belly up again. I was feeling really bad, and I shouldn’t have put you in that place. You made me feel so much better, and I’ll always be grateful for that. You make me feel so good when I’m around you.”
He stared at her, slowly nodding along. When she finished, his eyes stayed on her, and they just sat in the confession, together. It wasn’t awkward. It was safe. It was comfortable. They still had a lot to unpack and a lot more to talk about. But steps were being made. For so long she denied his place in her past, in her present, and in her future. But she saw it all so clearly now. He was always in it. There was never a time when it wasn’t him.
She felt like they were on the brink of something big, something that would change everything. His gaze was intense on her. Desire flooded his eyes. When they first were together, it took her some time to recognize what it was. When they broke up, she erased it from her mind, hoping that if she couldn’t picture it when she was awake, then it wouldn’t haunt her dreams anymore. But one look from him, and it all came rushing back to her. He wanted her. They were close. Maybe too close. She could smell his shampoo and the light aroma of sweat from his run. She saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. His eyes lingered down her face to her lips. Suddenly, she was hyperaware of the jelly on her lip. It was like the peaches all over again. One move and they would be kissing. She knew she couldn’t stop it if she tried, not like she would ever want to. It was magnetic, looking at him, fully, after all of this time. Electricity shot through her veins, her skin on fire. Her heart was beating out of her chest. She was so sure that Conrad could probably hear it or even see it.
She wondered if he would wipe her lip again. While at the time, she refused to admit it, she had never felt so cared for, so seen, when he did that. Everything was coming rushing back to her at once, and she didn’t hold back.
Slowly, she grabbed the seam of his shirt and lifted it to her lip, her knuckles brushing against the warm skin of his lower stomach. She kept staring at him, barely breathing. She wiped at the stain on her lips before gradually removing the shirt and lowering it back down. Her hand brushed against where his heart was, and he inhaled sharply. As her hand reached his waist, she was reluctant to let go of the shirt, but her hand was captured by his. The hem was hanging loosely in her grip, but his hand was on her wrist. Firm. Begging her to stay. In this moment, she felt more alive than she ever did with Jeremiah. She didn’t even realize that somehow, they had managed to get even closer, his knee brushing up against the inside of her thigh. Every breath, every movement, every blink was charged with something that she could finally put her finger on.
If she moved, she feared that this—everything—would be gone forever. They were so delicate. It hadn’t even been a day since Jeremiah, and now here she was, barely able to restrain herself against his brother—her ex. But looking at him, it was like nothing else mattered. He was everything. All that she had ever wanted was sitting right in front of her, practically begging for the green light. The morning light was oozing through the window, bouncing off of his face, giving him a golden glow. He was striking. She was standing on the edge of something dangerous, unprecedented. She felt him all around her. Before she could start to second-guess herself, she closed the gap between them.
Suddenly, she was resuscitated as he kissed her back with a fiery passion. Her hands left his shirt and crawled up his back and up to his neck. She ran her hands through his hair. It was more coarse than the last time that she did it. Rougher from the salt water. He grabbed her waist, picking her up from her barstool and putting her on his lap, his knee between her thighs, before his hands made their way up to her face. She could feel him beneath her, and she loved it. Every inch of her could be covered in him, and she’d still want more. Kissing him was like a drug. She didn’t know how she was able to go without it—without him—for so long.
Suddenly, a snore came from the couch. Shit. Steven. In her panic, she quickly shimmied off of his knee and fell directly onto the floor, landing with a loud crash that was sure to wake him up.
Steven's head shot up from on the couch, surveying the scene in front of him, as Conrad barely even noticed, looking down at Belly, part concerned, part amused at her antics. As Steven slowly came to life and processed what just happened, Conrad was already at Belly’s level, surveying her for injuries.
“Wha- What’s going on? Oh, uh—good morning, Belly. Are you good?” Steven managed to get out, still trying to comprehend what was going on in front of him.
Belly, giving her brother a death glare, turned to look back at Conrad. His lips were swollen, and it looked like he was fighting for his life trying not to laugh at her.
“I’m fine, Steven,” she said, eyes still stuck on Conrad, who was hovering over her. “I just fell off my chair and woke you up. You can go back to sleep if you want to; it’s still early.”
His eyes flickered between Belly and Conrad, laced with confusion at their antics, before giving up and closing his eyes again, immediately falling into a deep sleep.
Belly, still on the floor, was shaking from laughter. Conrad looked down on her, fondly, before succumbing to the giggles as well.
She looked up at him, her gaze full of hope. She sat up slowly as her body started to get over the adrenaline of the fall and pulled herself so she was sitting up next to him, back against the island. They needed to talk. There was so much that they needed to say. But at this moment, she had never felt so sure of anything in her life. It was Conrad. It was always him.
She leaned her head on his shoulders as he wrapped an arm around her back. She let out a slow, quiet groan. But the smile on her face was unmistakable.
“It hurts, Conrad.”
He looked over at her, running his hands through her hair and planting a kiss on top of her head. Then, he suddenly stood up, scooping her up with him. She tensed for a split second before melting into his arms and burying her head into his shoulders. He could feel her grin against his bare neck as she planted soft kisses on it.
Slowly, they made their way upstairs, and Conrad paused at the top of the stairs before deciding to go all in, walking down the hall towards where Belly slept. As they crossed the threshold, he used his foot to quietly shut the door behind him before depositing Belly into bed. She looked up at him with wonder in her eyes.
He laid down next to her, feeling nothing of the hesitation and awkwardness that he felt last night. She grabbed his hand and pulled it over her chest, on top of her heart.
“Conrad, I—I don’t know how to fully describe what that was to me. But it was everything. I know we have a lot to work on, a lot to discuss, and a lot to figure out, but fuck, I really just want you. You’re it for me.”
His heart swelled as he looked over at her and put his other hand to her face before she continued on.
“I know my head probably isn’t in a great place right now. I’m confused about pretty much everything right now, but not you. Never. You’re as clear as day to me.”
Tears started to well in her eyes as she looked down at their conjoined hands.
“I don’t know who I am right now. I only know you. And that terrifies me. I want to be with you, Conrad. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I want to give you everything. And I can’t do that right now. I—I need to prioritize myself. I think for so long both of us changed ourselves so much for other people. I think that I need to get away. Not from you. But from everything. I need to figure myself out before I can be with you.”
“Belly, I—” Conrad interrupted before Belly continued on.
“I’m—I’m not asking you to wait. I’ve pretty much fucked up everything in your life so far; I have no idea how you’re even able to tolerate my presence. But if we do go down that path, I want to do it the right way.”
He vigorously shook his head as she kept talking.
“I, uh, never dropped out of my study abroad in Paris. I had the email to my advisor in my drafts for weeks but never sent it. I think I always knew, deep down, that I would need it, somehow. I’m going to go. I’m going to live. And I want nothing more for you than that as well. Just humor me. I want to know who I am outside of all of this,” she said, motioning to them, then to the house, the beach, and all around them. He knew what she meant.
She sobbed into his chest as he held her as tight as he could. He wanted to memorize every single thing about her before she left him again. He understood it. They had been playing this game since they were teenagers. And she needed clarity. Fuck, he didn’t like it, but he understood it.
Finally, he spoke. It was barely a whisper.
“Bells, I want you to be the best you can possibly be. And if that person is away from me, from all of this mess, then you need to do it. You’re everything to me, and you will always be it for me as well. You’re doing the right thing. I hate it, but it’s right. But we’ll be okay. We always are. Infinity, remember?”
She nodded into his chest, comforted by his words, though her heart broke, they were infinite.