Undeniably In Denial

“That was the night I realized that I had a chance with you,” Camron said towards the end of our conversation about the tattoo he got in memory of our relationship. It was really surprising to know that he has tattoos that would remind him of the people in his life that he’s loved, but I like the idea behind it all. That way, every time he saw the tattoo, he’d be reminded of that person and everything he loved about them (that’s how he phrased it at least). He also said that he doesn’t get the tattoo until he’s sure that his ex is definitely an ex, and won’t ever get back together with him. That made me fairly sad, but then I remembered him telling me that he got the closet one done over two years ago.

That means I have a chance! We might not be completely over anymore.

I knew that my feelings for Camron were reemerging, but I wasn’t sure just how much I still loved him.



We wrapped up the tattoo conversation, I took a shower, we ate dinner, and then we moved everything back into the attic room, as well as redressing the bed. Needless to say, by the time we were done with everything for the day, it was into the next day. When we finally got around to going to bed, we were totally dead-beat-tired.

“I assume you’re staying the night?” he asked, plopping down in the middle of the pile of pillows by the edge of the mattress, exhaustion written in his eyes.

“As long as you don’t mind,”

“You’re going to be living here soon enough anyways,” he laughed. “And I highly doubt you want to be driving home either.”

“No, not particularly,” I chuckled sleepily. That was my last wish at two in the morning after spending half the day remodeling a room.

“Then you’re staying,” he said, yawning. “This is so comfortable; I don’t want to move.”

“I know…”

“Oh, wait; lights,” he pointed out after a while. We were both on the mattress – though I don’t remember how I got there from the desk chair – and by the time he mentioned the lights, I was almost asleep already.

“Uh,” I mumbled, only half aware of things.

Camron somehow managed to get up and turn off the remaining few lights, but I didn’t see that because by then, I had already drifted into a deep peaceful sleep.

I woke up the next morning with oranges being thrown at me, then I felt something harder hit me and realized it was an apple. “Why are you throwing spherical fruit at me, Camron?”

“Breakfast, Reese’s Pieces!” he exclaimed, not convincing me that he was completely sane.

“What the hell time is it?” I mumbled, sitting up and looking at a very awake and chipper Camron.

“Eleven thirty,” he answered, sitting down across from me and handing me a cup of steaming coffee. “You do still love coffee, right?”

“Can’t see a good world without it,” I smirked, starting to become more awake. “You know I'm probably going to get bruises from these, right? And I think one hit my shoulder when I was still asleep, because it’s throbbing right now.”

“Yea, I think that one was the first one I threw. Sorry,” he said, scrunching up his nose in a really adorable fashion with his nose right over his coffee cup.

“Nah, its fine. Don’t worry about it,”

Both of us sort of fell into silence as we ate our fruit and drank our coffee music lightly emanating from the small radio on the top of his dresser. That is, until a very familiar song came on.

“Do you remember?”

“Remember what?”

“This song,” I explained, smiling at the memory in my head.

“What about it?”

I stood up and brushed my hands on my pants before holding them out to Camron. “May I have this dance, Milady?” I asked, chuckling as a look of remembrance danced in his eyes. His hands reached out and grasped mine slowly, smirking slyly as I helped him up off the near-floor.

“The Winter Dance,” he laughed shortly. “Me acting like a girl. Everyone pressuring us to dance. And this song.”

“We danced to it,” I finished for him.

“As for your previous question, yes, you may have this dance,” he smiled. “Again.”

He rested his head against my shoulder and I laid mine on his as we once again danced to the resonating voice of the singer and the beautifully chiming piano behind it. We swayed to the music, and even after the song changed to a faster one, we were still in the same position, moving at the same pace. When Camron spoke next, it was as if the hyper part of him had suddenly vanished.

“I have something to tell you,”

“Okay,”

“But I don’t know how to say it, really,”

“You know you can tell me anything. You always have been able to tell me anything. Whatever it is, please don’t keep it from me,” I said, placing my hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

“I don’t want to keep this from you, trust me,”

“Then why can’t you tell me?”

He shrugged my hand away and turned on his heel, walking away from me, running his hand through his hair as if he was aggravated with himself. The next thing I know, he’s spinning back around and running at me, crashing his lips against mine. I don’t think it took but a half a second to kiss him back, for I wanted this just about more than anything.

“I love you,” he panted, finally parting our lips so that we could breathe. “I always have,” he said, kissing me again. “I never stopped.” A kiss on my neck. “And I never will stop.” Another kiss on my neck. “I love you so much and I want you back.” Kiss. “Forget my rule with the tattoos.” Kiss, kiss. “I don’t think we’re over.” Another neck kiss and a light bite. “I think we’re just starting over.” Kiss. “But I don’t regret that tattoo.” Deep kiss. “Not at all.” Kiss.

“You talk too fucking much,” I said, kissing him and pulling him with me as I fell backwards onto the mattress. “I love you and want you back again too.”