Sequel: Elysian ›
Status: In Progress
Restless Insomniacs
Daria
When my dad used to go on tour and take my mum I would come stay here, at my nonna’s and we would bake cookies and brownies and for a moment everything was okay. I haven’t been back here since my dad died and I suddenly feel an overwhelming amount of guilt about that fact, I should have visited. I lost a dad but my nonna lost a son and that has to be unimaginably hard, I feel like the worst grandchild as Yale slips from his seat in his car and waits for me to join him on the cement pathway leading to the door.
The house is a nondescript one story home filled with love and memories but not much else, my nona never was one for the fancier things in life and as such has kept her small shoe box house since she moved here with my father in the late seventies.
I exit the car wringing my hands in a nervous habit I have yet to quit, I want to tell Yale to get back in the car that this isn’t a good idea but he seems so hopeful and I really don’t want to squash that hopefulness, it’s kinda endearing really. Yale grabs my hand shocking the breathe from my lungs and leaving me slightly dizzy, we don’t hold hands and I can’t help but worry he will notice how suddenly sweaty my hand is.
I ring the doorbell and wait for the frail woman inside to answer the door, Yale grips my hand tighter and tighter as the seconds tick past. I can’t help but like the way our hands fit together, it’s like they are meant to hold each other or something.
“Daria” My nonna says, with her thick Italian accent when she pulls open the door, she pulls me in for a fierce hug that crushes my ribs but I don’t mind, it’s just so good to see her. I realise with a sore heart I have missed this little old woman more than I can explain. My nonna pulls away and stares at me like she hasn’t seen me in ten years, again guilt pulls at my heart strings. “And who is this?” She asks eyeing Yale with a small smile, I can’t help but smile back.
“This is Yale” Yale leans forward and extends his hand in a formal handshake that leaves a giggle escaping my lips. I don’t giggle and I think Yale realises this as he stares at me with bewilderment in his pretty eyes. “Yale this is my nonna” I introduce,
“You’re too thin, you need to eat” Is all my nonna says, moving from the doorway and letting us into her house. The inside is packed tight with furniture and knickknacks, on the walls hang photos from various family events and I can’t help but scrutinize them as we pass trying to remember each event and with it my father. Sadness squishes my heart back to its normal size at the thought of my father, I feel guilty thinking of him here, like I am betraying my grandmother by remembering her only child.
“She’s nice” Yale whispers into my ear as my nonna makes her way into the kitchen I follow closely behind trying to ignore the spark the ignites at Yale's breathe in my ear, it feels so intimate.
“She likes you” I whisper back encouragingly,
“I’m glad princess” Yale whispers his hand lingering on my lower back for the briefest of seconds, I stare at him with confusion tinged with happiness. It’s an awful gut wrenching feeling but I love it all the same. Yale straightens as my nonna turns around a wine bottle in her hand and three glasses, as she pours she talks with tears in her eyes and guilt hits me again.
“Tell your mother and I will kill you” She hands Yale and I a glass letting her words sink in for a moment, my mother and my grandmother don’t get along, they haven’t ever. I think my grandmother saw something awful and horrible in my mother my father couldn’t, something I am sure I now see too. My grandmothers eye crinkle the slightest and I can tell she is think about her son it makes my heart hurt to see her sad, “Well, here’s to happiness” She says clinking her wine glass against mine blinking back a sudden onslaught of tears.
“Thank you” Yale whispers to me suddenly, as I sip my wine,
“For what?”
“Sharing this with me Daria” Yale’s use of my name throws me slightly, gone are the condescending nicknames and in it’s place is me, just me like that is suddenly enough and I think Yale might be enough, more than enough. Enough to stop the strange beats of sadness in my heart and enough to stop the exhaustion from not sleeping but I don’t say anything because words aren’t needed, our silence speaks volumes.
Yale and I spend the day at my nonna’s eating hearty meals and drinking more wine than we should, with flushed cheeks we stand on my front stoop that night as the stars stare down at us. Yale is leaning in really close and if I were to move a centimeter our lips would meet and I think that would be extraordinary.
“I should go” Yale whispers leaning in closer and fanning my face with his breathe, I nod my head unable to remember how to form words at this point, all I can do is stare and my god is the view magnificent. Yale is beautiful in more than just looks and words, he is simply beautiful and I am speechless staring at his beauty.
“I’ll see you tomorrow princess” He says suddenly leaning back, and somehow it seems like a step back, princess I think with a hint of anger, no more Daria, back are the nicknames meant to keep me at a distance and I feel sad, and tired, really really tired.
The house is a nondescript one story home filled with love and memories but not much else, my nona never was one for the fancier things in life and as such has kept her small shoe box house since she moved here with my father in the late seventies.
I exit the car wringing my hands in a nervous habit I have yet to quit, I want to tell Yale to get back in the car that this isn’t a good idea but he seems so hopeful and I really don’t want to squash that hopefulness, it’s kinda endearing really. Yale grabs my hand shocking the breathe from my lungs and leaving me slightly dizzy, we don’t hold hands and I can’t help but worry he will notice how suddenly sweaty my hand is.
I ring the doorbell and wait for the frail woman inside to answer the door, Yale grips my hand tighter and tighter as the seconds tick past. I can’t help but like the way our hands fit together, it’s like they are meant to hold each other or something.
“Daria” My nonna says, with her thick Italian accent when she pulls open the door, she pulls me in for a fierce hug that crushes my ribs but I don’t mind, it’s just so good to see her. I realise with a sore heart I have missed this little old woman more than I can explain. My nonna pulls away and stares at me like she hasn’t seen me in ten years, again guilt pulls at my heart strings. “And who is this?” She asks eyeing Yale with a small smile, I can’t help but smile back.
“This is Yale” Yale leans forward and extends his hand in a formal handshake that leaves a giggle escaping my lips. I don’t giggle and I think Yale realises this as he stares at me with bewilderment in his pretty eyes. “Yale this is my nonna” I introduce,
“You’re too thin, you need to eat” Is all my nonna says, moving from the doorway and letting us into her house. The inside is packed tight with furniture and knickknacks, on the walls hang photos from various family events and I can’t help but scrutinize them as we pass trying to remember each event and with it my father. Sadness squishes my heart back to its normal size at the thought of my father, I feel guilty thinking of him here, like I am betraying my grandmother by remembering her only child.
“She’s nice” Yale whispers into my ear as my nonna makes her way into the kitchen I follow closely behind trying to ignore the spark the ignites at Yale's breathe in my ear, it feels so intimate.
“She likes you” I whisper back encouragingly,
“I’m glad princess” Yale whispers his hand lingering on my lower back for the briefest of seconds, I stare at him with confusion tinged with happiness. It’s an awful gut wrenching feeling but I love it all the same. Yale straightens as my nonna turns around a wine bottle in her hand and three glasses, as she pours she talks with tears in her eyes and guilt hits me again.
“Tell your mother and I will kill you” She hands Yale and I a glass letting her words sink in for a moment, my mother and my grandmother don’t get along, they haven’t ever. I think my grandmother saw something awful and horrible in my mother my father couldn’t, something I am sure I now see too. My grandmothers eye crinkle the slightest and I can tell she is think about her son it makes my heart hurt to see her sad, “Well, here’s to happiness” She says clinking her wine glass against mine blinking back a sudden onslaught of tears.
“Thank you” Yale whispers to me suddenly, as I sip my wine,
“For what?”
“Sharing this with me Daria” Yale’s use of my name throws me slightly, gone are the condescending nicknames and in it’s place is me, just me like that is suddenly enough and I think Yale might be enough, more than enough. Enough to stop the strange beats of sadness in my heart and enough to stop the exhaustion from not sleeping but I don’t say anything because words aren’t needed, our silence speaks volumes.
Yale and I spend the day at my nonna’s eating hearty meals and drinking more wine than we should, with flushed cheeks we stand on my front stoop that night as the stars stare down at us. Yale is leaning in really close and if I were to move a centimeter our lips would meet and I think that would be extraordinary.
“I should go” Yale whispers leaning in closer and fanning my face with his breathe, I nod my head unable to remember how to form words at this point, all I can do is stare and my god is the view magnificent. Yale is beautiful in more than just looks and words, he is simply beautiful and I am speechless staring at his beauty.
“I’ll see you tomorrow princess” He says suddenly leaning back, and somehow it seems like a step back, princess I think with a hint of anger, no more Daria, back are the nicknames meant to keep me at a distance and I feel sad, and tired, really really tired.