Status: One seriously depressing Hiatus. [That took me nearly a year to admit to].
All It Is, Is Just A Name
Chpt. 18 Grey's P.O.V. / Skye's P.O.V.
Grey
In My Mind
I sigh wistfully watching him walk from the room. Mentally scorning myself for acting like a swooning schoolgirl, I sit back on my knees and pick up all of the textbooks from our little study session. Soon everything is back in its place neatly set on or in Skye's desk. And then I see it.
Apart from the other papers and notepads is a corner of a parchment sketch book. Insatiably curious for some unknown reason I reach for it and tug it out from under all the other junk in his desk drawer.
Sketch Diary is written in grey ink on the all black cover.
Yes, it is a serious violation of privacy to look through someone's artwork without there permission or knowledge, I am well aware of that. Thus the reason that after contemplating the pros and cons of opening the cover and flipping through the undoubtedly personal pieces of Skye in art form lying on these pages I slip the book back into its place beneath a stack of old writing assignments.
I'd rather see him anyways. I think walking out of the room and down the stairs. I stop at the bottom listening to the achingly nostalgic sound. Skye humming softly to the old Beatles tunes I use to play all the time when I first started to learn guitar. We'd sit together for hours, my strumming of soft chord progressions accompanied by his voice either humming along as I struggled to get the flow of my fingers just right or singing along as I played well practiced songs. Then I find myself leaning against the doorway into the kitchen watching Skye as he moves about the kitchen oblivious to my presence and throw a smile at the sleepy eyed husky slumped on the floor near my feet.
It was when he started singing that I had to fight the urge to walk over to him. Just to feel him next to me, know he's right next to me. Then after he'd finished rolling out the pizza doe the sound of my favorite song to play with him poured from his lips and that's when my resistance broke. I strode forward stepping up behind him, gently wrapping my arms around his hips. Like I would when his dad had to leave early on Tuesday's and he made our pancakes because,
I'd lost touch with the other side of my brain, the one spitting all the things I'd said to Skye last night back in my face.
If we forget that time has passed will you forget the changes?...I'm not fourteen anymore Skye, but I'm still Grey Dawn Summers and we're still best friends...Its not time to talk about what was going on until we've had the time to relearn what we are. Its not my right anymore to act like I used to around you...
God, it hurt so bad to say those words! I was a coward not to talk about the fact that I'd been more than just the friendly type of attracted to him. Or mention that I wanted to get to know him again in the hopes of us as an intimate couple being the potential outcome. But in my mind we'd always belonged where we were now. In my mind, it was my right to be with him this way.
Skye’s P.O.V.
Two Thoughts
“See that wasn’t so bad. Your head didn’t explode or anything.” Grey said patting my head.
I swiped at his hand and growled under my breath before getting up from the floor. Several text books were spread across the floor seeing as I wanted to get all of my homework done tonight so I didn’t have to worry about not getting any sleep Sunday night. It was now close to five and I’d done everything except study for my Spanish test but since that wasn’t until next Friday I decided to procrastinate for a bit. Anyways, it was definitely snack time.
So ya. I admit I did need help with my math homework, but not a lot!That’s a lie it was actually rather sad. With a last playful glare at a grinning Grey I walked out of the room and down the stairs. I could practically here his confusion, like he was sending out a loud mental question mark. At the bottom of the staircase I whistled for Bert and his shaggy frame came running out from my father’s study.
“Hey boy!” I greeted him with a scratch behind the ears as he proceeded to lick my face.
His toenails clicked against the hardwood as he followed me dutifully into the kitchen. Hmm…what to eat, what to eat… Pizza! You can never go wrong with pizza, its like the Jack of all trades to the food world. And an especially good choice since Grey had revealed that he was now a vegetarian. Just another thing on the list of things that now make him up. Things I hadn’t been there to see change and come to be. But before I got to sad-sappy about it I remembered that he too was feeling the same things as I was.At least I hope he is.
Shaking my head at the path my thoughts were taking, I started taking out ingredients and the necessary appliances and such. Somewhere between cutting up the toppings and kneading the doe I’d started to hum old Beatles tunes. Like the old Beatles songs. Then somewhere between the rolling of the doe and the mixing of the sauce my humming evolved into quiet singing, which always means I’m completely zoned out in whatever it is I’m doing. That, and Bert never being one to bark, were the reasons I nearly shit my britches when I felt two arms wrap around my waist and warm breath on the side of my neck. Though I didn’t shit myself I did manage apansy ass girlish yelp, a small jolt and, to drop the spoon I was stirring the sauce with. The arms pressed me further back into a firm chest as Grey’s familiarly soft voice hushed me the action sending waves of his warm breath into my ear. “Shush love. Its only me.” And then so quietly I’m not sure I actually heard it, “Only yours.”
No need to say that all of that quickly ended my personal serenade of ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’.
I sighed giving up and relaxing against his warm body. My eyes shut for the briefest moment. But it was long enough to let two thoughts form, my mind flashing memories to add salt to the wound. This wasn’t what we talked about, what about all those wise and wicked words you said about friendship? the other, I wish you weren’t so stubborn and I wish you would say what I’m dying to hear. Both thoughts undeniably true as well as the stinging sense of rejection I got from the slideshow of sweet chaste cheek-kisses and simply the way we were always physically close, always like we were now.
With or without my minds consent my body simply went back to cooking. Instantly acknowledging, accepting and probably over enjoying the addition of arms encircling my middle and hair tickling my face and neck as his head hovered over my shoulder.
Xx 5:42 p.m. Friday, April xX
“It smells delicious, mi amour.” He murmurs into my ear pressing one of those chaste cheek-kisses I was talking about to the edge of my jaw just below my ear.
I feel myself nod but I cannot bring myself to say anything more than, “Yeah, it does.” I’m totally lost in my own head. And standing here, watching the pizza cook through the tinted glass of the oven door, while I’m still lent against his torso as he leans against the ‘lost piece of counter’ that’s two meters from the front of the stove, is proving to be more of a mind fuck than I’d anticipated.
Its too late to move now. Knowing that if I walked out of his arms right now I may just not find the strength to fall back into them. That is, if his arms were ever open at all.
Releasing yet another sigh I drop my head back onto his shoulder placing my hands over his arms, still wrapped just so around my waist. This being my umpteenth sigh since we’d been here was why I’m not surprised he finally said something.
“Tell me what’s on your mind.” It was more of a request than a demand but definitely not a question.
I wanted to say to him, You really don’t want to know.
Instead I thought of the simplest way to put it, the most vague, “Selfish things.”
He turned me around to face him. Keeping his hands on my shoulders he asked, “Please, tell me what’s on your mind Skye.” I shook my head suddenly feeling like a small child; regretfully naïve and so vulnerable.
I stepped of his hold and looked away, “You.” I mumbled before stating that I was going out for a smoke. Not looking back at him as I left the kitchen. Those same two thoughts and the sound of Bert’s toenails clacking on the hardwood as he followed closely played through my head like a theme song.
In My Mind
I sigh wistfully watching him walk from the room. Mentally scorning myself for acting like a swooning schoolgirl, I sit back on my knees and pick up all of the textbooks from our little study session. Soon everything is back in its place neatly set on or in Skye's desk. And then I see it.
Apart from the other papers and notepads is a corner of a parchment sketch book. Insatiably curious for some unknown reason I reach for it and tug it out from under all the other junk in his desk drawer.
Sketch Diary is written in grey ink on the all black cover.
Yes, it is a serious violation of privacy to look through someone's artwork without there permission or knowledge, I am well aware of that. Thus the reason that after contemplating the pros and cons of opening the cover and flipping through the undoubtedly personal pieces of Skye in art form lying on these pages I slip the book back into its place beneath a stack of old writing assignments.
I'd rather see him anyways. I think walking out of the room and down the stairs. I stop at the bottom listening to the achingly nostalgic sound. Skye humming softly to the old Beatles tunes I use to play all the time when I first started to learn guitar. We'd sit together for hours, my strumming of soft chord progressions accompanied by his voice either humming along as I struggled to get the flow of my fingers just right or singing along as I played well practiced songs. Then I find myself leaning against the doorway into the kitchen watching Skye as he moves about the kitchen oblivious to my presence and throw a smile at the sleepy eyed husky slumped on the floor near my feet.
It was when he started singing that I had to fight the urge to walk over to him. Just to feel him next to me, know he's right next to me. Then after he'd finished rolling out the pizza doe the sound of my favorite song to play with him poured from his lips and that's when my resistance broke. I strode forward stepping up behind him, gently wrapping my arms around his hips. Like I would when his dad had to leave early on Tuesday's and he made our pancakes because,
I'd lost touch with the other side of my brain, the one spitting all the things I'd said to Skye last night back in my face.
If we forget that time has passed will you forget the changes?...I'm not fourteen anymore Skye, but I'm still Grey Dawn Summers and we're still best friends...Its not time to talk about what was going on until we've had the time to relearn what we are. Its not my right anymore to act like I used to around you...
God, it hurt so bad to say those words! I was a coward not to talk about the fact that I'd been more than just the friendly type of attracted to him. Or mention that I wanted to get to know him again in the hopes of us as an intimate couple being the potential outcome. But in my mind we'd always belonged where we were now. In my mind, it was my right to be with him this way.
Skye’s P.O.V.
Two Thoughts
“See that wasn’t so bad. Your head didn’t explode or anything.” Grey said patting my head.
I swiped at his hand and growled under my breath before getting up from the floor. Several text books were spread across the floor seeing as I wanted to get all of my homework done tonight so I didn’t have to worry about not getting any sleep Sunday night. It was now close to five and I’d done everything except study for my Spanish test but since that wasn’t until next Friday I decided to procrastinate for a bit. Anyways, it was definitely snack time.
So ya. I admit I did need help with my math homework, but not a lot!That’s a lie it was actually rather sad. With a last playful glare at a grinning Grey I walked out of the room and down the stairs. I could practically here his confusion, like he was sending out a loud mental question mark. At the bottom of the staircase I whistled for Bert and his shaggy frame came running out from my father’s study.
“Hey boy!” I greeted him with a scratch behind the ears as he proceeded to lick my face.
His toenails clicked against the hardwood as he followed me dutifully into the kitchen. Hmm…what to eat, what to eat… Pizza! You can never go wrong with pizza, its like the Jack of all trades to the food world. And an especially good choice since Grey had revealed that he was now a vegetarian. Just another thing on the list of things that now make him up. Things I hadn’t been there to see change and come to be. But before I got to sad-sappy about it I remembered that he too was feeling the same things as I was.At least I hope he is.
Shaking my head at the path my thoughts were taking, I started taking out ingredients and the necessary appliances and such. Somewhere between cutting up the toppings and kneading the doe I’d started to hum old Beatles tunes. Like the old Beatles songs. Then somewhere between the rolling of the doe and the mixing of the sauce my humming evolved into quiet singing, which always means I’m completely zoned out in whatever it is I’m doing. That, and Bert never being one to bark, were the reasons I nearly shit my britches when I felt two arms wrap around my waist and warm breath on the side of my neck. Though I didn’t shit myself I did manage apansy ass girlish yelp, a small jolt and, to drop the spoon I was stirring the sauce with. The arms pressed me further back into a firm chest as Grey’s familiarly soft voice hushed me the action sending waves of his warm breath into my ear. “Shush love. Its only me.” And then so quietly I’m not sure I actually heard it, “Only yours.”
No need to say that all of that quickly ended my personal serenade of ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’.
I sighed giving up and relaxing against his warm body. My eyes shut for the briefest moment. But it was long enough to let two thoughts form, my mind flashing memories to add salt to the wound. This wasn’t what we talked about, what about all those wise and wicked words you said about friendship? the other, I wish you weren’t so stubborn and I wish you would say what I’m dying to hear. Both thoughts undeniably true as well as the stinging sense of rejection I got from the slideshow of sweet chaste cheek-kisses and simply the way we were always physically close, always like we were now.
With or without my minds consent my body simply went back to cooking. Instantly acknowledging, accepting and probably over enjoying the addition of arms encircling my middle and hair tickling my face and neck as his head hovered over my shoulder.
Xx 5:42 p.m. Friday, April xX
“It smells delicious, mi amour.” He murmurs into my ear pressing one of those chaste cheek-kisses I was talking about to the edge of my jaw just below my ear.
I feel myself nod but I cannot bring myself to say anything more than, “Yeah, it does.” I’m totally lost in my own head. And standing here, watching the pizza cook through the tinted glass of the oven door, while I’m still lent against his torso as he leans against the ‘lost piece of counter’ that’s two meters from the front of the stove, is proving to be more of a mind fuck than I’d anticipated.
Its too late to move now. Knowing that if I walked out of his arms right now I may just not find the strength to fall back into them. That is, if his arms were ever open at all.
Releasing yet another sigh I drop my head back onto his shoulder placing my hands over his arms, still wrapped just so around my waist. This being my umpteenth sigh since we’d been here was why I’m not surprised he finally said something.
“Tell me what’s on your mind.” It was more of a request than a demand but definitely not a question.
I wanted to say to him, You really don’t want to know.
Instead I thought of the simplest way to put it, the most vague, “Selfish things.”
He turned me around to face him. Keeping his hands on my shoulders he asked, “Please, tell me what’s on your mind Skye.” I shook my head suddenly feeling like a small child; regretfully naïve and so vulnerable.
I stepped of his hold and looked away, “You.” I mumbled before stating that I was going out for a smoke. Not looking back at him as I left the kitchen. Those same two thoughts and the sound of Bert’s toenails clacking on the hardwood as he followed closely played through my head like a theme song.
♠ ♠ ♠
...more tomorrow.