Remember Last Knight
what I've always done
&knight
I was on Cloud 9, so to speak. Though, actually, I was on Elle’s bed, head propped up under my hand, watching her move across the room.
After I told Elle I loved her, I took the time to just watch her. I watched her face, her movements. I saw every slight movement as milliseconds went by, her lips stretching out, up, into a smile, her eyes opening more as she did so, both of them smiling up at me too, as she reached up, kissing me again, before I left a kiss along the freckles of her nose.
I continued to watch her, even out of the corner of my eye, as I shook her father’s hand (he’d been there the whole time, watching television – and then, us!) and then, as we headed upstairs to her room. I stayed a few steps behind her the whole way, watching her walk, watching her react as we continued through the house. And now, I’m here. Watching her move around the room.
I was watching her so closely, that I got lost in it. I’m high off of this, off of us – and we all know what you do when you’re high. You think, and you think hard – and then you come up with questions and answers, no matter how outrageous they are or how outrageous you wish them to be.
Suddenly, Elle’s movements seem too slow – too mechanical – as she moves about, tucking papers on her desk into folders, and then those folders into a white crate under her desk. She hasn’t looked at me, either, has she… and she hasn’t said anything to me, not a word! Not since when she opened the door for me, a quick ‘hi’ and nothing else… I found myself pushing myself up, taking a quick glance at Elle again. I called her name, I think.
I know that somewhere in the next few words, all her name, that they were audible, and that she heard me, but still – I stood from my seat, and grabbed her arm.
Elle was quiet, still, and she said nothing – she only dropped the last folder, a blue one, that she had been holding. She dropped it, and it fell to the ground, a few papers and brochures falling from the pockets – I looked down, watching them, before I looked at her.
You can say I sobered up fast.
There were tears, though most of them had dried already, her face sticky and her eyes bloodshot. A droplet hung to her eyelash, resting there, and another was running down her cheek. Automatically, I pulled her in – but she only pushed.
So, there, I stood, my arms outstretched, fingers cupped as if they were holding something, anything, her, but they were empty, and there. There was Elle, pulling her arms around herself and taking gulps of air bigger than the Atlantic.
“Elle,” I whispered, not daring to take a step. “Elle, what’s going on?”
There was an explosion, somewhere deep, deep inside; an explosion that caused this huge chain reaction, leading to the spewing of lava and debris and pain. It was not an angry explosion, no, I see, looking back. Only one of heartache, and pain, and confusion.
“I can’t do this, okay? I can’t.” I watched still, as her hands moved up, across her temples, and then slashed down again, to her sides. She bit down on her lip, fingers curling around each other, eyes shutting tight, tight, tight – so tight, they might sew themselves together.
She stepped forward, and I had the brief idea that she was reaching for me, but no. She was reaching for the blue folder, at our feet, picking up a few of the papers, dropping some, before thrusting one in the air between us. “This feels like a million years ago, but it’s not! It’s real. It’s so, so real.” I looked to her hand, outstretched between us. A brochure, orange in color, for… University of Texas, Austin. Oh. Oh. Oh.
“I’ve always wanted to go to this school. Always, ever since I could remember. Then, after Louis and everything, I wanted to go there even more – my main reason being that there, no one would know about everything that happened at Washington… I could get lost in the crowd, and everything would be fine. I was selfish, to think that, honestly. I mean, hello? I caused this mess, and I was going to ship myself hundreds of miles away and leave my brother to struggle?
“So, I applied, but I knew it wouldn’t mean anything, y’know… because I couldn’t leave Ayden. I told myself over and over and over again that there was no way I would get in, but I did. I got accepted, and I also got a big enough scholarship to cover all of my school there. I got a full ride to my dream school. I had to go. I had to. It’s not that far away, really, and Ayden still has me, I’m only a phone call away.
“Only now everything is fine. Mom and Dad are doing better, for the most part. The one issue that keeps growing is Ayden, and that’s his problem – he’s done it to himself, I guess. He’s not letting all of this work its way back together, he’s the block stopping everyone else from mending. He’s the selfish one, now. He’s got to take care of himself. I can go, right? I can go to Austin and live my life at the college I want, nothing holding me back. Things are better. Things are great. Wrong.
“I’ve got baggage. I’ve got you. I met you, and we had our hard times – didn’t we? God, we hated each other. We couldn’t accept each other, not one bit. But then, things got serious, fast. Too serious, maybe. Not that I regret a second. I love you, Knight. I love you, for everything that you’ve done for me and for everything that you are. I hate to make it sound like this, I really do… but you’re the only thing holding me back now, right now. I got my dorm information today, in the mail, and you were my first thought. I had forgotten, almost, about school all together.”
She looked down, and I followed her eyes. She was twisting her fingers together, wringing her hands, squeezing the palms together. “I don’t want to ask you for your permission, and trust me, I’m not. That’s not what this is. I’m going to go, no matter what you say, but I just want to know what you think. I want to know, Knight.”
I didn’t want to answer. I didn’t have words. So, instead, I answered her without them, not giving my happiest answer, but the one that I knew would keep her, the thing I really wanted, beside me. I did what I’ve done from the beginning.
I pulled out the chair from her desk, and I took my seat, before extending my hand to her. I watched her face. Dark blue eyes set, determined, forehead wrinkled some, bottom lip pink and quivering. I watched as she kept her eyes on me, my extended hand and my face and my whole self as I waited for her to accept or deny my invitation, my answer; and as she finally broke down, her eyes shutting and her breath escaping her mouth fast, loud, as she reached out and took my hand.
I led her around, guiding her, and she took her seat on my lap, arms wrapping around my neck. She buried her face there, in my shoulder, her body shaking every few seconds. I only rested my head in her hair, inhaling, one hand at the nape of her neck, the other resting on the far side of her leg, holding her up, with me.
I was on Cloud 9, so to speak. Though, actually, I was on Elle’s bed, head propped up under my hand, watching her move across the room.
After I told Elle I loved her, I took the time to just watch her. I watched her face, her movements. I saw every slight movement as milliseconds went by, her lips stretching out, up, into a smile, her eyes opening more as she did so, both of them smiling up at me too, as she reached up, kissing me again, before I left a kiss along the freckles of her nose.
I continued to watch her, even out of the corner of my eye, as I shook her father’s hand (he’d been there the whole time, watching television – and then, us!) and then, as we headed upstairs to her room. I stayed a few steps behind her the whole way, watching her walk, watching her react as we continued through the house. And now, I’m here. Watching her move around the room.
I was watching her so closely, that I got lost in it. I’m high off of this, off of us – and we all know what you do when you’re high. You think, and you think hard – and then you come up with questions and answers, no matter how outrageous they are or how outrageous you wish them to be.
Suddenly, Elle’s movements seem too slow – too mechanical – as she moves about, tucking papers on her desk into folders, and then those folders into a white crate under her desk. She hasn’t looked at me, either, has she… and she hasn’t said anything to me, not a word! Not since when she opened the door for me, a quick ‘hi’ and nothing else… I found myself pushing myself up, taking a quick glance at Elle again. I called her name, I think.
I know that somewhere in the next few words, all her name, that they were audible, and that she heard me, but still – I stood from my seat, and grabbed her arm.
Elle was quiet, still, and she said nothing – she only dropped the last folder, a blue one, that she had been holding. She dropped it, and it fell to the ground, a few papers and brochures falling from the pockets – I looked down, watching them, before I looked at her.
You can say I sobered up fast.
There were tears, though most of them had dried already, her face sticky and her eyes bloodshot. A droplet hung to her eyelash, resting there, and another was running down her cheek. Automatically, I pulled her in – but she only pushed.
So, there, I stood, my arms outstretched, fingers cupped as if they were holding something, anything, her, but they were empty, and there. There was Elle, pulling her arms around herself and taking gulps of air bigger than the Atlantic.
“Elle,” I whispered, not daring to take a step. “Elle, what’s going on?”
There was an explosion, somewhere deep, deep inside; an explosion that caused this huge chain reaction, leading to the spewing of lava and debris and pain. It was not an angry explosion, no, I see, looking back. Only one of heartache, and pain, and confusion.
“I can’t do this, okay? I can’t.” I watched still, as her hands moved up, across her temples, and then slashed down again, to her sides. She bit down on her lip, fingers curling around each other, eyes shutting tight, tight, tight – so tight, they might sew themselves together.
She stepped forward, and I had the brief idea that she was reaching for me, but no. She was reaching for the blue folder, at our feet, picking up a few of the papers, dropping some, before thrusting one in the air between us. “This feels like a million years ago, but it’s not! It’s real. It’s so, so real.” I looked to her hand, outstretched between us. A brochure, orange in color, for… University of Texas, Austin. Oh. Oh. Oh.
“I’ve always wanted to go to this school. Always, ever since I could remember. Then, after Louis and everything, I wanted to go there even more – my main reason being that there, no one would know about everything that happened at Washington… I could get lost in the crowd, and everything would be fine. I was selfish, to think that, honestly. I mean, hello? I caused this mess, and I was going to ship myself hundreds of miles away and leave my brother to struggle?
“So, I applied, but I knew it wouldn’t mean anything, y’know… because I couldn’t leave Ayden. I told myself over and over and over again that there was no way I would get in, but I did. I got accepted, and I also got a big enough scholarship to cover all of my school there. I got a full ride to my dream school. I had to go. I had to. It’s not that far away, really, and Ayden still has me, I’m only a phone call away.
“Only now everything is fine. Mom and Dad are doing better, for the most part. The one issue that keeps growing is Ayden, and that’s his problem – he’s done it to himself, I guess. He’s not letting all of this work its way back together, he’s the block stopping everyone else from mending. He’s the selfish one, now. He’s got to take care of himself. I can go, right? I can go to Austin and live my life at the college I want, nothing holding me back. Things are better. Things are great. Wrong.
“I’ve got baggage. I’ve got you. I met you, and we had our hard times – didn’t we? God, we hated each other. We couldn’t accept each other, not one bit. But then, things got serious, fast. Too serious, maybe. Not that I regret a second. I love you, Knight. I love you, for everything that you’ve done for me and for everything that you are. I hate to make it sound like this, I really do… but you’re the only thing holding me back now, right now. I got my dorm information today, in the mail, and you were my first thought. I had forgotten, almost, about school all together.”
She looked down, and I followed her eyes. She was twisting her fingers together, wringing her hands, squeezing the palms together. “I don’t want to ask you for your permission, and trust me, I’m not. That’s not what this is. I’m going to go, no matter what you say, but I just want to know what you think. I want to know, Knight.”
I didn’t want to answer. I didn’t have words. So, instead, I answered her without them, not giving my happiest answer, but the one that I knew would keep her, the thing I really wanted, beside me. I did what I’ve done from the beginning.
I pulled out the chair from her desk, and I took my seat, before extending my hand to her. I watched her face. Dark blue eyes set, determined, forehead wrinkled some, bottom lip pink and quivering. I watched as she kept her eyes on me, my extended hand and my face and my whole self as I waited for her to accept or deny my invitation, my answer; and as she finally broke down, her eyes shutting and her breath escaping her mouth fast, loud, as she reached out and took my hand.
I led her around, guiding her, and she took her seat on my lap, arms wrapping around my neck. She buried her face there, in my shoulder, her body shaking every few seconds. I only rested my head in her hair, inhaling, one hand at the nape of her neck, the other resting on the far side of her leg, holding her up, with me.