This Tragic Affair

I woke up slowly the next morning, gaining awareness little by little. The room was warm from the sunlight that was pouring in through the window. I gave my clock a sleepy glance.

It was noon. Wait, noon?!

I took in a sharp breath, but just a little too sharp. As I began coughing and sputtering, I kicked off the covers and jumped out of bed. I pulled on a shirt and some jeans as I made my way into the kitchen to pop in some bread for toast.

“Okay,” I muttered to myself. “You’re only two hours late. No big deal, right?”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh God… Wow. Just wow.” The toast popped and I tore a bite out of it plain. “You don’t have anymore time to loose.” Checking my eyeliner on the way out, I slipped on a pair of sandals and headed to check up on Ronnie.

* * * * *

“Hey you,” he smiled as I slipped into his apartment. “Que pasa?”

“Nothing much,” I breathed, leaning back against the door. “Just heading out to see Nat, and I thought I’d come get you.” I smiled gently up at Ronnie as he placed his hands on either side of my shoulders and leaned in.

“You,” he smirked, “need to take a break. Stay home. Sleep. Any of these things sounding familiar to you?” He reached a hand up to ruffle my hair before wandering over to his couch, plopping down on it. He straightened some papers that were on top of the coffee table as he spoke. “You’re always over there, or over here, or on the roof.“

“Yeah, because I enjoy being in those places. What’s so wrong with that?“ I laughed.

“Well, nothing. You just don’t ever stop, y’know? You’re always doing something. Look…” He glanced up for a moment, and our eyes met. “This probably won’t mean anything to you, for obvious reasons, but you’re going to kill yourself if you keep it all up.”

“But Ronnie, I-”

“Seriously,” he said in a firm voice. “Stay home for a change. Take some time for yourself.” He threw the last stack of papers down onto the table and stood up, grabbing his keys.

“Ronnie, you don’t get it. There’s-”

He cut in.

“I’ve got to go check on Gran. I’ll be back soon. And when I get back…” He took a few slow steps toward me, catching my eyes with a piercing stare. “I’m coming for you. You’re going to be at home, right?”

“Ronnie, you don’t honestly-”

“Right?” He was resolute. I opened my mouth to protest. Ronnie raised his eyebrows and shot me one of those ‘Don’t even think about it’ glances. I sighed.

“Right… God, you’re such a hard-ass sometimes,” I pouted.

“Damn straight. Now…” He had finally reached me and was standing over me, leaning in close. One of his hands was cupping the side of my face and his thumb was stroking my cheek. He spoke in a low voice: “Be there when I get back.” He said it as a statement, but it felt more like a question. Feeling the need to say something, I started to speak, but Ronnie leaned in. I was still. His finger had stopped moving as his breath came warm on my skin. He was inches away, almost frozen, biting his bottom lip. He wasn’t even looking at me anymore, but through me, as if his thoughts were playing out in front of him. All of this in contrast to his previous behavior was just so strange…

Suddenly, it was painful to breathe.

Ronnie squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then pulled me into his arms.

“Please,” he said. “Please.” I couldn’t speak, just buried my face in his shirt and nodded. “Alright…” He took a deep breath, then stepped back and held me at arms length. “You ready?” I pursed my lips and nodded once, my eyes carefully fixed on his face. There was something there, something I couldn’t quite find. Trying to figure it out was like trying to catch smoke- it just kept slipping through my fingers…

Ronnie gave my arms a squeeze as he led me out the door and down the hall. Silently stepping into the elevator, the doors slid shut in front of us. As the elevator began to make its way toward my floor, I slipped my hand into Ronnie’s. I felt his finders gently slide across the back of my hand, rough on my skin. Finally, the elevator pinged for my stop, and the doors edged open. Ronnie placed a small kiss on the back of my hand, holding it close to him.

“You’ll be here?”

“I’ll be here,” I whispered. Stepping out of the elevator, I turned and watched him as he pressed the button for the ground floor. After a moment, I smiled. “Hypocrite.”

Ronnie looked up and chuckled, then slid his hands into his pockets. He smiled down at his feet, leaning against the back of the elevator, as the doors slid shut.