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Gavin saw him for the first time on an unusually clear day in England.
It’d been a normal day a couple of hours prior, waking up in his bed curled up at the edge and limbs slacking over it. He went through his morning routine from there - shower, teeth, clothes, hair - what would be considered a normal routine for any middle-aged man in a single bedroom apartment. He padded into his dimmed lounge and stood there for a moment, taking in the mess of art supplies and unfinished art pieces that he just couldn’t see himself getting back to; the painting of that cat he saw one time, the stray dog that didn’t pass under his balcony anymore, the bluejay that nestled itself into the tree near his bedroom. So many great ideas now just being a waste of space and paint that could’ve been put to better use.
Looking at these paintings made him realize that he didn’t see people pass by that often. Surprising actually, seeing as he lived across from the coastline and the view was absolutely stunning on days like this. But again it was unusually clear today. And it wasn’t that Gavin was an introvert of sorts either, he just didn’t see people. Well, more like he didn’t try to see people - painters tended to always stay inside of their own head.
Gavin walked into his kitchen and set a kettle of tea onto the oven, walking out once again and opening up the curtain that covered his main window. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the sudden flash of bright light, but the spots stopped dancing in his eyes after blinking them away.
He sat in his chair - usually being used when he was feeling inspired to paint something - and decided to just look outside for once.
Not much was different from what he had described before; green leaves adorning the trees that ran across the gray overused sidewalk, a brown fence that separated where that sidewalk and the sand of that beach met as it chipped away with old age, the bench that grows lonelier by the day as each day passes with no one using it to rest, the ocean, clear and lively as the waves crash against the rocks shining in the morning sun.
It's sad to him.
It's sad to think that he's one of the only people that will get to experience such a sight as this. No one ever passes through here anymore. No one ever seeks this place as a sort of comfort like Gavin does. Everyone else is so stuck in a world where they live vicariously through someone else's selfie that are way more hey-look-how-great-I-look-today and less of the actual place itself. Of course, he could always recreate it in a painting. I mean, that's what painters do -recreating an experience for someone else through a couple of brush strokes. But being able to sit there and feel the morning dew hit his face was just - it's something that he couldn't put into a painting on its own.
Gavin sighed as he leaned further back in his chair, bringing a knee up to his chest and setting his chin on top of it gently. After a few more quiet moments he decided this was enough and started to get up. But something drew his attention back to the open window.
What was that sound? It sounded like-
"Footsteps?" he whispered to himself.
Just as he uttered the words, a man turned the corner into his view. Soft red curls bobbed along with his backpack as he made his way across Gavin's view. He kept walking until he stopped right under Gavin's window, pausing there and looking out into the sea. Gavin's breathe hitched with a feeling of excitement almost. Somebody else was here! Somebody other than his own lazy arse was here and seemed to be enjoying the view! He didn't know why he felt this sort of heart stopping joy at this stranger looking at nature, but he couldn't help but be drawn to him
The man turned his head side to side before crossing the street and stepping onto the overused sidewalk, quickly stepping over the fence and going towards the bench.
"Unbelievable," he said to himself once more as the man sat himself and his backpack onto the bench. Gavin felt proud for the bench, that's the first butt to have sat themselves on you in a very long time. Way to go buddy.
He was about to turn away once again before he caught sight of the man's face - he happened to be unbelievably attractive.
A nice chiseled jawline, shining hazel eyes, very soft looking bow shaped lips. He was almost angelic looking, fitting in beautifully with the scenery around him and making it seem like he had always been there. Except he didn't seem to be that way either. Judging by the way he's dressed and the color of his skin, he wasn't from around town, or from around this country for all he knew. Plus, most English men didn't casually carry around a travel bag with them.
Gavin shook himself out of his thoughts. He shouldn't be thinking these things about someone he's never met. It's creepy and plus, he's been staring too long. If he doesn't look away soon he'll-
As if on cue, the kettle started to whistle - loudly - startling both the Brit and the not so European man. His curls whipped around and Gavin fell back in his chair with a loud crash and incoherent squawking, seeming as that was his idea of the best way to not get caught staring.
"Hello?" a voice calls out.
Yep. Definitely not British.
Gavin stays silent, his face heating up as his cheeks turn a soft shade of pink and bits of art supplies fall into his chest. He couldn't answer could he? He'd just make a fool out of himself and man that would just be a horrible first impression.
"Yes, hello, I am the person who has been creepily staring at you for the past 10 minutes. How are you?"
There was more silence before he heard some ruffling and then the crunch of feet hitting the ground slowly going into the distance. Gavin waited another silent moment before peeking over and checking for anymore random people. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the bench without an occupant once more, his only company now the sound of the waves outside and the still whistling kettle on the stove.
Gavin quickly got up from the floor and picked up the chair, setting it in its original place before rushing over to the kitchen.
What an odd start to his day it has been.
2.
Gavin saw him again on a not so clear day.
All night, the man with the lightly freckled face cluttered his thoughts. Gavin was left with a 5 hour sleep and 10 minute wake ups in between. And it's not as if it were from a nightmare, his dreams were really good. Too good, especially when they were about someone he's never even met. But every single dream he had made him feel like he's known him his whole life - a movie date, a walk in the park hand in hand, laughing as the two of them cooked dinner together, a comfy day at home filled with copious amounts of blankets and small talk. So good that it scared him.
He sat at his window once again, already having a cup of tea in hand - he learned from his mistakes.
Gavin didn't know what compelled him to sit at the window again. I mean it was cold as knobs and it forced him to get up at one point and grab a blanket to wrap around himself. But still he sat, looking out into the morning scenery.
He sat there quietly, mirroring the start of his day yesterday minus the sun shining brightly in the sky. Today, instead, he was met with a cloudy sky, gray illuminating off the ground and casting an almost solemn mood into his little home. The cement looked overused as ever as it lay next to the old fence and butt deprived bench that stood alone in the pale sand. The rocks looked dull today and the waves were very calm, the bright blue from yesterday fading into a deep navy.
But this wasn't the reason Gavin was feeling particularly sad today.
It was because the hazel eyed man wouldn't want to come back to this sad excuse for a tourist attraction.
Of course he would come yesterday. It was beautiful out and Gavin was honestly surprised no one else came down here to sight see. He was secretly thankful that it was only that man though, otherwise he'd never be looking out the window right here in this moment and just hoping that he'd come back once more for Gavin to see the way his curls swayed as he walked. But beggars can't be choosers. Especially when it came to weather.
Gavin was ready to give up hope once again as nothing turned up except for a scampering squirrel and some crusty falling leaves while summer shifted into fall. He sighed, setting his cup of tea down and actually getting up from his chair when once again, that distracting sound reached his ears.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
Gavin rushed to the window, looking very obviously out as the man with red curls - now pressed down by a deep green beanie - turned the corner. He was wearing a thick coat, his neck also being covered by a thin looking scarf but not doing much to stop the cold as he still seemed to be affected by the cold. Definitely not from around here if he couldn't take a little crisp air.
Before he could be caught, he sat himself down in his chair again, wrapping the blanket around himself and being mindful of where his empty teacup lay just begging to be knocked over. But not this time, as he pushed it to the opposite side of the table.
The man went through the the same routine as yesterday - crossing the street and just settling himself at the old bench, setting his bag next to himself. However this time, he opened up the bag and pulled out a camera, one of the really nice photography ones at that. Gavin was intrigued at this point, always finding himself being drawn to different forms of art. I mean, he was practically a photographer himself - but in a different way of course.
Gavin in this moment was struck with a thought; why the hell would he want to capture pictures of a day like this? Again, yesterday was the absolute perfect candidate - his little get away finally being of use to someone other than himself. Why today of all days? He sighed, knowing that he’ll probably never even get the chance to ask him that question, knowing that no matter how hard he tried, he’d never even get the chance to know his name. He’ll just forever be the man with the curly hair and a strange sense of weather to Gavin.
He continued to watch him, staring at the way he moved, his little mannerisms, staring at the way his hair moved along with his body, staring at the freckles that lightly spotted his face, staring straight into his hazel eyes - wait a minute - if he could see his eyes, that meant-
Fuck he’s been caught.
Gavin had been staring much too long. He’d been caught, the two of them making very long and very awkward contact as the man’s eyebrows began to raise and Gavin’s face turned red. Before the redhead opened his mouth, Gavin spoke first.
“Uh, duh um, s-s-sorry,” he stuttered out, not even allowing the other man to get a word in before he quickly rose out of his seat clumsily and, as if god chose this exact moment to smite him, ran into the table he was sitting next to. He let out a loud cry of pain and fell to the ground, a loud crash following soon as his carefully set teacup fell to the ground - he knew that would happen. Thank god the man could not see him right because hot knobs did he look like a mess. His eyes stung with tears, whether it be from ramming his goddamn leg into the table or his pure embarrassment he didn’t know, and truthfully he didn’t want to know.
Here he lay, his knee already blossoming a bruise, his favorite teacup shattered on the ground, and the man he felt himself falling in love with probably reconsidering any thought of wanting to acknowledge Gavin’s very existence. God this was such a bad first impression for him and did he just hear a chuckle?!
“Um...hello?”
Shit.
“Are you okay up there?” came an American sounding voice - great, just his type.
Gavin’s heart began to beat a mile a minute. Should he answer? Should he stay quiet? What if he leaves and never comes back? Does he like the clumsy type? What if he does and he’s waiting at his front step? What if he doesn’t and he already hates Gavin? Before his mind could get any more anxious with the questions that continued to pile up, he responded.
“U-uh yep! Just tip top I am,” Gavin responded with an unsure chuckle, immediately kicking himself for sounding so dumb.
A moment of silence.
“Aaaalright then. I’ll be going then? Um...call a hospital if you need it.”
More silence from Gavin.
“Right, I’m just gonna go. Uh, see you later,” the man responded, almost unsure of himself. Gavin stayed on the ground, holding his breathe as he listened to the sound of rustling and the familiar crunch of feet against pavement as they faded away. Before then, he caught a little ‘Take care’ being uttered, causing Gavin to choke on the air he’d been holding in and he bolted straight up.
Gavin quickly crawled over to the edge of the window and peeked over, sweeping the streets with his eyes to make sure that there wasn’t anyone else there to bask in his glorious fall. Once he double checked that the coast was clear, he let out a very loud and over dramatic sigh, flopping onto his back and covering his face with his hands and uttering words that would give his grandmother a heart attack.
God it sucked to be falling in love with a stranger.
3.
Gavin saw him again on the third day.
Man, did he really have to say ‘See you later’?
Because here Gavin sat - absolutely no tea with him this time to avoid any possible accidents - waiting for whenever later was going to be.
Yesterday was kind of a special day for him. Special in a sense that he’s feeling himself change inside, his emotions slowly and effectively being manipulated without the man responsible for it ever knowing. And that made him happy in a sense.
Being a painter was hard if you didn’t know what the hell you were doing. He’d taken on the role after dropping out of college and assuring his parents that ‘people do this all the time’ and ‘he’d be just fine on his own.’
But he wasn’t.
He was not all fine because he was still a struggling artist that could be painting that one squirrel for the twenty-seventh time but instead he sat waiting for the one man he had let his heart fall for. He could be making a living for himself and actually earn some money for once; hell he’d even take the Picasso route if it meant he became successful. But again, he didn’t pick up a single paint brush as it would only distract him from the window that would bring his one chance of happiness - right?
Gavin sighed. He was confusing himself to the point of an oncoming headache that he really did not need right now. His brain was already fucked up as it tried to set Gavin's priorities straight - since it for sure seemed that he could not do it by himself. He ran a hand through his hair, breathing out a sigh that fogged into a white cloud when his hot breathe contrasted with the cold air around him.
Now that he thought about it, it was getting pretty late. The sun was already setting and Gavin had been waiting at that chair since morning, captured in his thoughts and not even thinking about what or who could have passed by since he sat down. He started to panic a bit - did he miss him? Did he pass by waiting for Gavin without him even noticing? What if he never comes back? What if he went back to America already and Gavin’s fantasy of being with him forever is ruined?
Gavin quickly got out of his chair, noticing how cold it really is when he threw off his blanket, and ran into his room. There was another window in there that gave him a different view of the street, not that it was any different from the dreary view of his front window. But it did allow him to look further down the old street.
But of course, nothing was there.
Gavin sighed again and flopped down on his bed face down. He was hopeless, stressing over some man he’s never even truly met before. He screamed a muffled, ‘Fuck my life,’ into his covers, thrashing around his limbs until he fell off his bed with a loud squawk. He landed on his back with a ‘oof’ causing him to stare at only the ceiling. Gavin laid there for what seemed like hours to him but only a mere couple of minutes to any passerby. His life was falling apart at the seams and he was finally starting to realize that as he was suddenly a 5 year old pouting whenever he didn’t get his way.
He started to close his eyes, hoping that maybe drifting off to sleep would bring him some sort of resolve and maybe think of something other than the freckled man.
And that’s when he heard him again.
Not him specifically though. He heard something more faded, far away. Something that sounded more like a -
“Clicking,” he whispered to himself with a confused, yet oddly pleased look plastered on his face. He stood up once more as the moon began to shine through his window, being the only source of light in his small apartment since he hadn’t turned any on as he was having an existential crisis.
He tiptoed across his hallway and into his moonlit lounge once again as the clicking sound grew a bit louder. He looked out his window once again very obviously and spotted the same green beanie, accompanied once again by a shivering figure and a white cloud of breath that appeared and disappeared vigorously.
Gavin smiled to himself - finally.
He propped his elbows on the window sill and stared at the man, the moonlight framing his figure lovingly as he continued to click away. Again, he didn’t seem to be very good at choosing times of day to capture in those photos, making England seem like it was always as desolate as it seemed in this moment. I mean, it must be hard for him to even get that clear of a picture in the dark of the night. There weren’t any street lamps to guide his way, so he must have imitated Gavin a few moments before as he made his way across the street.
A flash from the camera.
Gavin wondered what the pictures were for, seeming as they didn’t have to be of something spectacular to amuse anyone in actuality.
Another flash.
A professional photographer? Maybe he runs a blog? Or he could just be another hipster that takes weird pictures as an aesthetic.
Another.
Maybe Gavin will never know, until he actually builds up enough courage to actually ask the man himself - like that will ever happen though.
A final flash, blinding this time as he realizes the camera was not facing the dark sea. It was in fact, pointed right at him.
Gavin’s eyes widened, looking like a deer caught in the headlights as he continued to stare even as the flash passed. Now he stared into the eyes of the stranger who sure as hell was not facing him seconds before. He blinked a few times and scrunched up his face as the after effects of having a bright light in your eyes started to affect him.
"What the b-bloody..." Gavin stuttered, rubbing profusely at his eyes before opening and closing them rapidly to get rid of the dancing spots in his eyes. When his vision cleared, his ears focused on the laughing fit going on beneath him, his cheeks warming a bit from the slight embarrassment of being caught in the act again.
Gavin crossed his arms and stared down at the man, whom he now chose to consider as an acquaintance at this point. He stared at his wrinkled eyes, his bow shaped lips curling into a wide smile, his shoulders stiff even as he curled over himself to hold his stomach. He didn't know why he was doing it still, I mean that's what got him into this situation in the first place. But he just couldn't help having his eyes be drawn to him.
Gavin let out a cough to get the man's attention, making him look up as his green eyes met tear-brimmed hazel ones.
"So what, you havin' a laugh?" Gavin said, even as the curly haired man continued to laugh.
"H-hold on just," snort, "give me a second." He did take only a second as he stood up straight and whipped at his eyes with both of his hands, his laugh still coming through every now and then, but now much less obnoxious in Gavin's opinion.
When he was settled and looking at Gavin properly, Gavin felt his heart stop. Oh man this could go so many ways. Gavin swallowed and stood up straighter, shifting on his feet before speaking.
"What was that for, hm?! I nearly went blind you big dope!"
The traveler just smiled in return, imitating Gavin once again as he crossed his arms and rested comfortably on one leg.
"Well you were staring at me. Like you have been for the past 3 days, you think I don't notice this shit you big dope?" He replied mischievously, staring back as Gavin avoided eye contact. "Maybe I should ask you what the hell you were doing, right?"
Gavin didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell him right now how he felt, he didn't even know his name for christs sake.
"Uh well, I was just thinking how weird your mind must be to let you go out so late and take pictures of a goddamn cesspool of depression," Gavin finally said, applauding himself for thinking so quickly.
"What about yesterday?"
"Yesterday? You were taking pictures of one gigantic cloud the whole time of course I was curious! Until you scared me and made me ram my leg into the corner of the table. I've got a wicked bruise now, wanna see it?"
"I'll pass. And the day before?"
"It was a hell of a nice change of scenery for once. Have you ever been to England? It's not exactly sunshine blue skies everyday of the week like wherever you're from."
"America."
"Right."
The man took off his beanie for a hot second as he ran his fingers through his curls, putting the beanie back on immediately, much to Gavin's dismay, before speaking.
“Well you see, I am from America. I’ve never been to England before. But, from what I’ve heard, it’s not the most...sunny or happy of places.”
“Yes, and?” Gavin interrupted feeling only slightly offended.
“Aaand, I wanted to capture it in it’s true form, not like the fake one that we saw on that first day. Complete bullshit day if you ask me.” The man shifted the strap on his shoulder and started to put his camera away. “But, I’m done now so, I’ll just be on my way.”
Gavin’s heart dropped.
Not this soon. Gavin waited for this moment all day and now after quite the controversial conversation of maybe 2 minutes, he was leaving. He felt a twitch in his arm as it started to move along with his mouth, happening on instinct before he could even stop it.
“Wait!” Gavin blurted out, reaching out to him in a halting moment, causing the photographers curls to whip around along with his surprised look.
Gavin gulped. He didn’t know what to say, much less of how he was gonna explain himself for calling out to him after saying he doesn’t have an answer. He stared blankly ahead with his mouth hanging open, words trying so hard to form on his tongue, but failing - multiple times.
“U-Uh…”
The man turned all the way around to face Gavin, hesitating a bit before responding with a baffled look.
“What's up…?”
Gavin retracted his hand and went red in the face.
‘Think of something Gav! Think of something funny and witty! He liked funny things!’
“So...u-uh...you coming back tomorrow?”
‘Damnit.’
The man with the beanie seemed a bit taken aback, not really expecting the question to fall from Gavins lips in the way that they did. He looked around a bit, as if trying to think. His chest rose and fell in a deep breath before looking at Gavin with a solemn face.
“I actually can’t I’m sorry. My flight leaves tomorrow morning and I have to be there early to meet a friend before I board.”
Gavin’s face fell as the words reached his ears. Was he really leaving? So soon? It has only been 3 days,but it was 3 days too short for Gavin. If he could just have one more day, one more day to finally learn his name, one more day to actually go up to him, one more day to hold him. Gavin snapped out of his daze and realized he had been staring, thinking up a quick reply.
“O-oh, okay, yeah,” he cleared his throat, “that’s a thing that happens okay yes, have a safe flight,” Gavin stuttered out, his lips thinning as he clamped his mouth tightly shut to not allow himself to embarrass himself any further.
The man’s lips curled into a smile, seeming to hold back a chuckle as he nodded at Gavin.
“Thank you...I think… um yeah, see you around.”
Gavin didn’t respond, just nodded as he contained the warm feeling swelling up in his chest and bullets of sweat running down the back of his neck. He watched the man walk away, the echo of the gravel under his shoes whispering into his ears as the sound faded away. When his quiet, desolate neighborhood was silent once again, Gavin threw himself onto the couch behind him. He covered his face with a pillow and screamed into it, profanities slipping from his lips that probably only existed in an Urban Dictionary.
He let the pillow slip down onto his chest and he squeezed it tightly, turning onto his side and remembering only one thing before he drifted into sleep.
“What if he doesn’t come back?”
4.
Gavin didn’t see him that morning.
He was jolted awake by his face meeting the floor in a very uncomfortable way as he rolled off his couch. Thank god he was holding the pillow the way he was all through the night or else his already big nose would get bigger and bloodier. He landed with a loud 'oof' as the air in his lungs rushed out on impact. He propped himself up on one elbow, eyes barely cracked open and his hair even more disheveled than it usually is on a typical day. It only took him seconds to realize he was on the floor - and it took him even less time to remember what had happened the night before.
Gavin sat up quickly, looking around groggily as he reached over to his phone conveniently placed on the table next to him and checked the time.
‘8:25’
When did the man say he was gonna leave?
Did he even give Gavin a time?
His mind utterly turned up nothing and he pulled the pillow out from under him and threw it at the opposite wall in frustration. This was it then. He’d never see the photographer he’d fallen in love with, he’d never get to know his name, he’d never get to know more about his life, he’d never get to sit with him as he painted all his thoughts onto the canvas, he’d never get to really feel what it was like to actually be with someone in good company.
That was the moment that Gavin was suddenly struck with an idea, nothing that would ensure the return of his ‘knight in shining armor’ - or an overworn green beanie and heavy coat in this case - but something that should bring some sort of peace to his heart, something that should get him through his lonely thoughts and quiet life.
He quickly sat up, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes and paced towards his art supplies. He’s sure he’ll have to make two trips with all the stuff he has to bring down, but it’ll all be worth it in the end if he could get the painting just right.
He grabbed whatever he could carry in his thin arms, and headed downstairs.
It was later in the day now, the sun just now noticeably setting as it inched closer and closer to the horizon.
At this point, Gavin was already almost done with his personal project.
He flicked his brush this way and that way, curling it when he needed to and dipping it back in the paint whenever it began to dry out at the tip. He remembered the curls, he remembered the blinding sea, he remembered the shining sun, and the sandy beach and the watered down rocks on the shore. It all was coming back to him and it seemed to transition perfectly from paint to painting.
He remembered it all as he painted his one vivid memory of the man - even if he only had to remember what the back of his head looked like as he sat at the forever aging bench that seemed as lonely as Gavin was. He dipped his brush in the blue, reminding him of when he first laid eyes on the man and began to feel his heart rate pick up. He swiped across the ground with a deep gray, representing the second time he ever saw him, England being as dull as ever and actually showing Gavin what it was like to talk to someone and generally fall in love with their voice. He finished off certain parts with a beautiful green color, making Gavin miss the time he spent last night staring at the red-headed mans beanie before he was blinded by a flash and and his stunning good looks.
Every color that he painted reminded him of the photographer that he had seen on that first day.
And every single time he found himself smiling.
“Is that me?"
Gavin jumped from the sudden absence of silence and almost drops his paint brush, letting out a sigh knowing that he wouldn’t have to make a third trip upstairs to go get a fresh one.
He turned around, ready to tell someone off for scaring the bloody hell out of him, but he was stopped before he could even mutter a word, staring almost absent-mindedly before realizing who it was that he was actually staring at. His mouth hung open and his mind raced to try and find the words to say because -
He had come back.
“Mind if I sit?”, the man asked, gesturing to the open spot that was clearly vacant next to Gavin.
He replied with a nod and scooted himself over just a bit, feeling where he was right now to be too close for his heart to handle right now because holy shit he was sitting right next to him.
The photographer set his bag down beside the bench and looked at Gavin, his mouth moving and - oh god did he just say something?
“Uh, w-wot? Sorry I was zoning out…” Gavin ushered out, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.
The man smiled, “I just asked if you were okay? I mean you looked pretty surprised once you saw me. And you still didn’t answer my question!” His voice was much louder now that he was up-close and personal.
For a second, Gavin could not remember what he had asked. Was it about the weather? His still bed-head hair? The painting-
“Right! The painting. And whether it’s you or not. Because that is the question you just asked.”
“I also asked another one.”
“I’m fine, it’s just cold outside.”
“I take that back.”
A smile creeped onto the man's face, and soon, Gavin found himself smiling as well. He shifted his eyes down for a bit as a laugh escaped his lips, an actual genuine laugh that he hasn’t been able to share with someone for a very, very long time. He hasn’t been able to share any kind of happy moment with anybody for a long time actually. Long enough to the point where he can’t even recall it without phoning a friend. Wow. He has been alone a long time.
But maybe that can change.
Gavin set his brush down and turned towards the man, his arm hanging comfortably over the back.
“Before I answer your question, I’ve got a much more important, better question to ask you,” Gavin replied snarkly, looking back at the man as he crossed his arms. The man waved his hand in approval and Gavin continued.
“What the hell are you doing back here?! I thought you said you had a plane back home this morning?”
The photographer shrugged.
“My flight got delayed and the next earliest flight is tomorrow. So, I came back here to sit at my favorite spot before finding a hotel to stay at until then. But, look who else is here.” The man gestured to Gavin and he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter. Not only from being directly addressed, but also from the fact that this was his favorite spot to be out of all the places in England. Suddenly, his desolate little view from the window began to mean a lot more than he ever thought it could.
“Tragic,” he couldn’t remember why he said the next set of words, but he did,” you could always stay at my place?”
As soon as he uttered the words he immediately tried to retract them. He didn’t mean to sound so forward, so eager. But it was too late, and he could already see from the reaction on the man’s face that he had really said what he thought he said.
“I-I mean, sorry I didn’t mean to push I just thought it’d be easier for you and I don’t live that far, but I understand if you say no because -”
“Sure.”
Gavin stopped mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open for the second time that day.
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah, why not?”
Gavin turned towards his painting again and crossed his arms in a comforting sort of way, the way he did whenever he was embarrassed - like he was now.
“I-I don’t know, I just thought you’d say no….”
The man pulled a face before laughing again, throwing his head back and letting Gavin see the way his eyes crinkled again, the way his lips thinned, the way his curls bounced. He was so glad he said yes. Gavin smiled along with him and uncrossed his arms, knowing now that it was his turn to answer his question, no matter how much Gavin didn’t want to, something inside told him it was alright.
“To answer your question, yes,” Gavin started, interrupting the man,” That is you. I know what you’re thinking though, alright? ‘Wow, what a weirdo. Painting a picture of someone he’s never even met? Man I sure don’t want to be hanging out with that guy.’ “
Gavin’s smile faltered a bit, looking into the man’s eyes now as if asking permission to keep going - his eyes said yes.
“I don’t know what the hell I’m about to say next, but I woke up this morning and felt - empty. All over again because I had nothing to look forward to that day now that you were leaving and going back to America. I know I have no right to be saying this because, I don’t even know your god damn name. But, I didn’t want you to leave because I was afraid of being alone again… I haven’t spoken to another human being in god only knows how long. I eat alone, I sleep alone, I even play video games alone. And I paint alone too, as you see now with the pathetic setup I have here. So, that’s why I’m painting you. You help me feel, less alone and more like I’ve never been alone in the first place. Like you’ve always been there with me…”
Gavin focused on the man’s face and saw the way it was faltering as well - maybe he wasn’t giving him permission to speak and Gavin just spoke way out of line.
“O-oh god, I am so sorry I didn’t mean to weird you out, I just thought maybe you wanted to hear what I had to say. Uh, I’ll just go, you can come up whenever you want or just not at all but uh, sorry I’m gonna go…”
Gavin began to stand up, clumsily grabbing all of his supplies before his wrist was being gripped by another. He stared at the clamped hand and followed it all the way to meet the man’s eyes hazel eyes, feeling a the worry in his chest begin to fade away and be replaced with something warmer and friendlier. Something much more welcoming than what Gavin had imagined.
Something that made him feel less alone.
“Michael,” the man said, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips,” my name is Michael.”
Gavin stared in disbelief. His name is Michael. His name is Michael. After three days of calling him how he saw it, he was finally at the point where he could put a name to such a kind face. And the name Michael could not have sounded sweeter in his mind.
He smiled back at him before replying and feeling as if he could cry where he stood.
“Well, Michael, my name is Gavin,” he said, not seeming to stop the relieved breath that rushed out of him.
For the first time in so, so long, he felt like he could rely on someone else, he felt like he could trust someone else, he felt that warm buzz in his chest that came from another human being and not from something mechanical or unhuman.
He finally had someone else.
Gavin did see Michael on the fourth day.
And every day after that.