Sunspots and Raindrops

“Nice to meet you, Sonny.” He held out a hand and I looked at his scathingly before shaking it as quickly as I could. I couldn’t stand the thought of even looking at him, much less touching him.

I turned away from this man and headed for the stairs, murmuring something about homework as I went. Apparently m mom wasn’t that keen on getting me to accept this new man in her life because she went on to tell Thomas about what a great student I was and how hard I studied every night.

I had to swallow the gag that crawled up my throat when I heard Thomas say something about how proud my mom must’ve been.

I slammed the door to my bedroom and just paced. My blood was steaming and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end every single time I heard Thomas’ laugh carry up the stairs. I could imagine the conversation they were having downstairs about why we moved to Vegas and what my mom was doing here and how they met and ho eager they were to get to know each other. But I didn’t want to think about any of it. Tried to distract myself with anything.

I threw the book I was trying to read across the room, knocking several things off my dresser when it slammed into it.

My computer didn’t help because I couldn’t turn my music up that loud without knowing that my mom would come upstairs and tell me to turn it down. Or worse, send him up to tell me.

I flopped down on my bed and tried just zoning out, but it was no use. My mind was working overtime, one side furious and other side stressed. And I couldn’t decide whether to march down those stairs and scream at the intruder to stay away from my mom and to get out of my house and our lives or to stay curled up on my bed and just pretend the world didn’t exist if only for that evening.

Then, the unforgettable thump sounded from my window, causing my ears and heart to perk.

I shut off my light and walked over to my window, pushing it open and greeting Brendon in a whisper.

“Are you okay?” he didn’t pull his punches, like usual.

“Yeah.” I say, glancing at my phone for the time. From the corner of my eye, I saw Brendon swallow.

“You wanna talk about it?” Brendon asks and even though it was black outside and both of our bedroom lights was out, I could see the concern in his eyes. He saw right through me.

Thomas laughed again and this time, the deep and familiar sound struck a cord deep inside of me and I couldn’t stop the tears from welling in my eyes. Then, to my shock, Brendon’s window was empty. I was hurt far worse when I saw that he had gone at the first sign of tears and when I heard my phone vibrate, I shut my window furiously and turned my back on Brendon’s empty room.

But to my surprise, the text message on my phone was from Brendon…

Meet me outside.

I just stared at the message before hurrying to slip on a hoodie (it was cooler out that night) and some socks. Then, I walked down the stairs silently. My mom and Thomas were sitting at the dining room table talking. This was perfect because then I could sneak right out the back door and they would be none the wiser.

This is exactly what I did.

I stood in my backyard and waited for Brendon. I was unsure of where exactly we were supposed to meet, so I just stayed put until he either sent another message or I got too chilly and went inside.

And after only a minute of so of shaking and waiting and wondering, two arms spun m around and embraced me. If I didn’t already know it was Brendon, his cologne would’ve given him away easily. I could’ve stayed there and lived happily in his arms…

But instead, the cue of being hugged by a man, the smell of men’s cologne and the echo of Thomas’ laugh within the bare walls of my mind only caused my eyes to tear up again and I buried my face in Brendon’s sweatshirt.

I felt Brendon’s arms tighten momentarily before beginning to unwrap from around me. His hands closed around my shoulders, pulling me away from him. I clutched him tight, part of me not wanting him to look me in the eye while I was this exposed and this messed up while the other much larger part of me strictly didn’t want him to vanish. But he was diligent and when he got me to pull my face from his clothes, he put his hands on my cheeks, holding them, and made me meet his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked again and I knew that he wanted a real answer this time; a truthful answer. Because he and I both knew that when I had said ‘yeah’ earlier, I had been lying through my teeth.

“I’ve been better.” I replied, sniffling, blinking and looking downward, but even when he wasn’t talking to me, Brendon had a way of keeping my attention upward.

The moment was perfect and only in a moment so perfect as this would God decide to give me the finger by opening the floodgates of the sky. The sky was clear in the south but the rain came fast and in only seconds, it was northern down pour.

He released my face and laced his fingers with mine, pulling me in the direction of his house. “Come on.” I went along with him as he lead me out of my backyard, around the end of our fence and over to his house. I was a little uneasy with sneaking away from my house. I had never even dreamt of trying something like this back when I was in Chicago.

It would hurt my mom if she discovered that I ever snuck out of the house.

But apparently my mom and I aren’t past hurting each other. So when it came time to cross the threshold into Brendon’s house, I didn’t voice any objection.

I felt right at home the moment the warm air of Brendon’s home struck me, but standing in his foyer sopping wet made me feel a little awkward. Brendon had wasted no time in shedding his drenched hoodie but when he looked back at me, he stopped.

“Oh…uh…you don’t have to stay in those wet clothes,” Brendon was trying to be sincere without being perverted or crossing an lines that he didn’t know if I had drawn or not. “You can borrow some sweats and a sweatshirt of mine and I can put your stuff in the dryer.”

I smiled at him, sniffling once. My tears will still glistening, I could tell. He was really just being sweet on me. “Okay, do you have a…um…” I looked around.

“Oh, fuck, yeah.” Brendon palmed himself in he face. “Right around the corner there’s a bathroom. Go right ahead. I’ll bring you some dry clothes.” And then he was gone, his face beet red from embarrassment.

I walked to the bathroom and stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind me before beginning to peel off my saturated clothing. And once I was down to only my bra and underwear, I stopped and stood stalk-still, staring at the pile of my wet clothing on the floor of Brendon Urie’s house. I would’ve never imagined—not in a million years—that after only a little over a week of knowing Brendon that I would be standing almost naked in his house. It seemed a little fast…

There was knock on the door and I jumped, twisting the lock and pressing myself to the wood so that only my face showed outside the bathroom. Brendon stood holding some dark gray sweats and a back Fall Out Boy hoodie out to me while facing his eyes the other direction, his other hand blinding them just in case.

“I’m one hundred percent sure these will fit you. I fact, they’ll probably be a little big on you because I am also one hundred percent sure that I am bigger than you.” I couldn’t tell if he was suppressing a laugh or something else.

I took the clothes, smiling at his chivalry. “Thank you, Brendon.” And that was all that I said before closing the door and quickly pulling the warm clothes on over my goose bump-covered skin. I hadn’t noticed that I was shivering until then. The clothes were very warm and I immediately felt better because of multiple contributing factors. One: I wasn’t in my own house in that moment. Two: The clothes Brendon had leant me smelled like him. Three: I was with Brendon.

Nothing seemed wrong.

I stepped out of the bathroom and Brendon was leaning on the wall just a few feet down the hall. He smiled when I walked up to him and handed him my wet clothes. He darted away and vanished momentarily, but I heard him open and close the dryer door before starting it up.

Then, he was back and he’d taken my hand again. “Come on.” He said, just like before, and he pulled me up the stairs to his bedroom. To my shock, his room was actually clean this time. He had tidied up quite a bit, in fact. I then understood why it took him a while to get to me in my backyard.

Despite how cozy Brendon’s borrowed clothes were, a stray shiver rocked through my torso and to my dismay, it didn’t go unnoticed by Brendon. He flew to his bed and ripped the comforter off of it, holding one corner in each hand and opening it for me. I looked at it hesitantly and then I looked at him with unease.

I saw his eyes lighten and his cheeks rise in a smile behind the blanket that covered half of his face. “It’s clean, I promise.”

I stepped closer and then turned and let Brendon draped the blanket around me. And then, before I could tell Brendon not to, he had scooped me up in his arms and put me on his bed, leaning me against wall. Then, he ran to his desk and grabbed his laptop and hit the lights.

He placed himself next to me on the bed, just far enough away from me for comfort in case I was still a little vulnerable (the boy had done his homework) but close enough so that the laptop could rest on one of each of our legs.

“What do you feel like watching?” Brendon asks, popping open the disc drive on the laptop and smiling at me.

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As sappy as it seemed, Brendon and I settled on watching How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days which was both funny and ironic being as it was the tenth day I’d known Brendon and if anything, our relationship was getting stronger by the second.

However, after only watching the movie for a little over half an hour, Brendon and I had managed to lose all interest in the movie. And whose fault was this?

Yours truly, of course.

“Sonny?” Brendon leaned forward to look into my eyes. “Sundance, what’s wrong?”

My eyes had begun to water again. Against all of my determination to keep the waterworks from showing, they had. And I hadn’t wanted to put Brendon in this position. I had wanted anything but.

But it was too late now, so I looked up at him. I was shocked to see the compassion in his eyes. He didn’t look awkward or pining for an escape. He looked sympathetic, almost hopeful that I would talk to him and that he would be able to help.

“Brendon, my dad’s dead.” I just threw it out there and just as I had expected, my chest panged and I whimpered and a few soft sobs escaped.

Brendon’s reaction was in slow motion. His jaw dropped first and he waited for me to say anything else. I didn’t know if he wanted me to say that I was kidding or if he was expecting me to go on. When I didn’t continue, though, he blinked a few times at me and then, rather quickly this time, moved the computer from our laps and enveloped me in a huge hug.

A hug that only Brendon Urie could give.

My tears started soaking his shirt again, but Brendon made no notion to move away from me this time.

He held the back of my hand and ran his fingers through my hair consolingly. “I’m so sorry, Sonny Mae.” I like when he uses my middle name, I thought randomly. I could tell by the way his jaw moved against my shoulder that he was looking for more to say, but couldn’t.

I pulled away from him and looked at him. “You don’t have to say any more, Bren.” I could tell he wanted to smile at the nickname, like he always did. He ran his thumb under one of my eyes, probably wiping away my tear-strewn makeup. “I’m sorry I dropped this bombshell on you.”

Brendon hugged me again, tighter this time. He held me for only a few seconds and then pulled away just so he could meet my eyes. “You have no room to be sorry.”

I sniffled as I looked at him but before the tears could start flowing again, Brendon scrambled for the Kleenex box on his bedside table. He held a tissue to me and I took it, holding it to my mouth to keep the sobs from escaping.

Brendon pursed his lips and I could tell he was thinking of what to do. I was certainly a mess and I doubt he wanted to deal with me. But when he put the laptop on his bedside table and laid down on his back on the mattress, patting the spot beside him, I was a little more than stunned by him.

I sat next to him, curling my legs up to my chest as I sniveled into the tissue in my hand, but Brendon took one of my hands and pulled it to him. Before I knew it, I was laying on my side, pressed flush against Brendon’s side, with my ear pressed to his chest.

“You can talk to me, Sonny.” Brendon’s voice rumbled through his chest. “You can lean on me.”

I dropped my hand from wiping my eyes and laid it flat over his diaphragm, watching it rise and fall with his inhaling and exhaling. Brendon’s heart thumped rhythmically under my ear and I found comfort and tranquility in the calmness of his heartbeat.

And with a deep breath, I started with, “It’ll be one year ago next March…”