Work Text:
So you stopped. After a bath, your damp hair fell over your shoulders.
You thought, you seemed to live a kind of strange life.
On a physical level, you had been separated from your moms for a long time, and on a psychological level, they would always be your deepest and most trusted dependents. But at this point -- despite the fact that your moms were physically far away from you -- the only person you really wanted to see was Cove.
You recalled that when you applied to college at 18, the first person you wanted to tell was Cove. This seemed eternal. But what had changed was that, it seemed difficult for you to tell each other everything from that moment on.
Or so you would say--in the name of the world's best neighbor. Since then, your feelings for him had become a syndrome, turning into a hand you wanted to pull up but drop down , a lip you wanted to touch but leave, a foot you wanted to move forward but stop in place. You thought, eighteen-year-old you should not have refused him, he said he was afraid you would refuse to speak to him since then, but he told you eventually. Then what did you do? You're the one who refused at first. You remembered his eyes breaking like a moon into the blue sea , tears rarely filling his eyes and then flashed.
He said, "Don't mind, thank you for your answer."
Nothing seemed to have changed in your lives since then, but it also seemed to have changed too much. Cove was still the first one that came to your mind when anything happened. His embrace, like fungus on a petri dish, ripped open to reveal a thicket of cruelty that made you regretted countless times your cowardice in not saying 'yes'.
He said, well, "we'll always be the best neighbors. "
Then your heart quivered, your lips opened and closed, and nothing came out.
You stared at the glass on the table for a moment, the cube of ice melting away in the brown liquid. You realized you may be just foolishly feeling sorry for yourself -- if you didn't say no, if you didn't say no.
But after a few years now, how could you have the courage--not to apologize, just to confess.
To say, "Being the best neighbor isn't enough for me." That kind of bullshit?
Perhaps because you've just entered a new environment and had accumulated so much, you couldn't help but recall the mistakes you made since you were young or the regrets you experienced during the interval between keystrokes. The more memories you have, the more, your regrets were in the hundreds.
Suddenly, a click. The sound of a door handle turning.
You were yanked from the swirl of memories like a big blue mist out of your sight. It's your neighbor for over a decade -- Cove's slightly apologetic eyes. You didn't think you could live together as roommates either.This was probably the highest pile of courage you could muster from your guilt and cowardice. It's called "I'm also afraid of growing apart with you as an adult." Maybe it's called "I may missed my chance to be your partner forever." Or it's called "All I really wanted was your skin, your skin."
"I heard the keyboard. Why are you so late?"
"I'm just trying to get used to the new environment." You squeezed a little smile.
"Are you sure you're all right?" The blue ocean caught your eyes.
"That's all right. I'm almost done with my work. Really."
His eyes and expression sank together.
You saw through his eyes that silent gentle query--'you do remember, you and I used to talk about everything.'
Your eye sockets were starting to sour. Fatigue at work probably washed away your sanity, you thought. Once there was a tendency for the eyes to become sore, the tears squeezed into the eye sockets like an overloaded cruise ship, then the hull collapsed, the passengers fell into the water, years of unimpeded mechanical collapsed into incomplete shipwrecks.
"I'm just, I'm so tired." The wreck was still cracking.
"What can I do for You? Anything?"
Your neighbor looked at you and raised his hand a little, trying to put it over your shoulder. You remembered one summer many years ago, when he put his arm around your shoulder and his steps seemed to be jumping up and down.
Vision blurred and ear canals seemed to be flooded.
"No, really, I can do it myself." The sinking ship also seemed to hit an iceberg, even if it was not your intention.
"Anything?"
Sea-green icebergs softened your edges with orange interior lights. The adult Cove may turn out to be a little tough.
Over the years (since you rejected his confession) you had deliberately reduced your physical contact with him, and you saw this reconnection and dependence after rejection as a "taking advantage of him". Even if he probably didn't feel that way himself, he may just be upset about your physical alienation in return. But the only thing you wanted to do at this moment--to be swept into your desires by the torrent of reason--and because his skin had come to close to you for countless times--is, to "take advantage of him", the torrent of your heart said.
So your body, your biological instincts were keener than ever to detect Cove's damp heat, the soft smell of the ocean, his skin, his skin. So you stood up a little wobbly, and the moment you started to turn towards him, time slowed down, and his arms were around you.
"Take advantage of him", "take advantage of him," the voice, the torrent in your heart became whatever it took.
He held you, wrapping his arms around your entire back, and gently squeezed your arms, either comfortingly, deliberately, or unintentionally.
You suddenly felt like a rubber duck filled with water, so the squeeze squeezed out the strain, and the air began to fill your tired body, and you began to float up into the cove.
Then, instinctively, a small sound rushed out of the vocal cords from the brain nerve. Because it's so small, you yourself didn't even know if it's coming from your body.
"I love you."
His body was still in motion, so you're still not sure if he heard you.
Then his body shivered violently, and the strength to hold you tightened again for a few seconds. Wanted to confirm your expression, but dared not confirm the pause.
So he stopped where he was.
"I don't want to... take advantage of you,your emotions." he whispered back.
Frailty washed away your sanity, as he clearly imagined and worried.
"I love you." You repeated, slowly leaving his embrace, but your eyes were at a loss, and the courage to confess melts into the ice in your glass.
Cove's body trembled even more. The breath he exhaled was on top of your head, and then he seemed to lose his balance, and his body gradually tilted, and his breath hit you in the nape of your neck. You started to get wet under your hair again, and the one around you sniffed. He paused for a moment, then reassembled a bit of himself, and raised his head from the nape of your neck, his eyes still teary.
You didn't expect it, or maybe you should, but this was not a moment of weakness on you own. You dropped a four-year-old bomb called "I love you", then you're finally out of your mind, and you're either going to blow yourself up, or you're going to blow up your relationship with Cove even further, or even blow up your relationship, completely.
Or, you held on to some fragmentary hope that, maybe after the bomb was the ruin of two people's common tears. Beneath the rubble were the cowardice and the "Never-perfect-times" that each of you once dared not say, and above the rubble was the new each other, you, and Cove, your favorite neighbor, AKA, your lover.
Then your lover held you again. Or your neighbor of these so many years, holding you for the first time, in the name of love.
His voice trembled,his eyes wept.
He said, "I've wanted this for so many years."