Mia’s hand the whole time. She squeezes it every now and then, but she toughs it out and does pretty good. Hers isn’t as intricate, so it only takes about an hour to complete. He wipes it off and says, “There, go check it out.”
She sits up slowly and takes a look. There’s an ornate key with a ribbon on the end. It’s soft and girly, yet strong and bold; everything Mia is. She walks over to the mirror to get a better look. Taking the Saran Wrap off of mine, we stand side by side and admire our new artwork.
I lace my fingers through hers. “You’ll always hold the key to my heart,” I tell her quietly.
In her reflection, I see the tears welling up in her eyes. “I love it,” she rasps out, and I’m so happy and relieved. “And I love you.”
Looking at her warmly, I smile and give her a kiss. “Let’s get out of here.” Grabbing her hand, we walk to the counter, pay, and then head back to my house.
When we walk in, it’s quiet. Flipping on a lamp, my eyes land on a note on the kitchen counter.
There’s leftover pizza in the fridge. Be home late. I’ll be at Barbara’s for girls’ night. Text me if you need anything.
XO,
Mom
“Looks like Mom went out. She won’t be home until later tonight,” I tell Mia. She nods, looking around. “You hungry?”
“Starving.”
I pull the pizza Mom saved out of the fridge and heat it up. “What time are you leaving tomorrow morning?”
“Dad and I are getting on the road at seven in the morning. That should put us there around one or two.”
I shouldn’t have brought it up because the next fifteen minutes are spent in deafening silence. I wish there was something I could say to lighten the mood, but the inevitable is hitting us both like a freight train. Time is ticking by despite how desperate we are to freeze it.
“Come here,” I tell her after we’re done eating and I’ve taken our dishes to the sink. She walks over to me in the middle of the kitchen and I wrap my arms around her. My heart beats rapidly, trying to escape from my chest so she can take it with her. “What do you want to do?”
“I want to pretend this isn’t our last night. I want us to act normal and do whatever we normally do.”
“Want to go to my room, listen to music, and just chill then?”
A small smile forms on her lips. “That’s my favorite thing.”
With our hands clasped together, we walk up the stairs and I try hard to not act like I’m walking the plank. It’s just impossible to ignore. With every step, every breath, each word, and every second, we’re that much closer to saying goodbye.
And it’s killing me.
I turn on my stereo to her favorite station. I’m more of a rock guy, but she loves that ‘N Sync and Britney Spears shit. So for her, I’ll risk my stereo bursting into flames from playing shitty music and let her have her way.
Every time we’re in here, we always lie on the bed, stare up at the ceiling, and hold hands. Even when we were only friends, this is what we did. As we grew closer and lines became blurred, a lot more kissing was involved, but this is our center, our starting point.
“I’m going to miss you,” she whispers.
“Don’t. I’m not ready to say our goodbyes yet.”
She nods, blinking away the tears. Holding her face in my hands, I do the only thing I know how to comfort her and place my lips on hers. She devours the solace I try to provide not only her, but myself as well. She clings to my shirt and it’s not long until I taste salt on my tongue and know she’s crying. It makes me hold on to her tighter.
“Shh, it’s okay,” I tell her between kisses.
She runs her hand under my shirt and my abs tighten with her touch. Where she normally touches me gently, this time there’s a desperation in the rough way her hands run over my skin. They travel higher up before stopping when they reach the bandage on my chest.
“I almost forgot,” she says. “Take it off.”
Sitting up, I grab the back of
She sits up slowly and takes a look. There’s an ornate key with a ribbon on the end. It’s soft and girly, yet strong and bold; everything Mia is. She walks over to the mirror to get a better look. Taking the Saran Wrap off of mine, we stand side by side and admire our new artwork.
I lace my fingers through hers. “You’ll always hold the key to my heart,” I tell her quietly.
In her reflection, I see the tears welling up in her eyes. “I love it,” she rasps out, and I’m so happy and relieved. “And I love you.”
Looking at her warmly, I smile and give her a kiss. “Let’s get out of here.” Grabbing her hand, we walk to the counter, pay, and then head back to my house.
When we walk in, it’s quiet. Flipping on a lamp, my eyes land on a note on the kitchen counter.
There’s leftover pizza in the fridge. Be home late. I’ll be at Barbara’s for girls’ night. Text me if you need anything.
XO,
Mom
“Looks like Mom went out. She won’t be home until later tonight,” I tell Mia. She nods, looking around. “You hungry?”
“Starving.”
I pull the pizza Mom saved out of the fridge and heat it up. “What time are you leaving tomorrow morning?”
“Dad and I are getting on the road at seven in the morning. That should put us there around one or two.”
I shouldn’t have brought it up because the next fifteen minutes are spent in deafening silence. I wish there was something I could say to lighten the mood, but the inevitable is hitting us both like a freight train. Time is ticking by despite how desperate we are to freeze it.
“Come here,” I tell her after we’re done eating and I’ve taken our dishes to the sink. She walks over to me in the middle of the kitchen and I wrap my arms around her. My heart beats rapidly, trying to escape from my chest so she can take it with her. “What do you want to do?”
“I want to pretend this isn’t our last night. I want us to act normal and do whatever we normally do.”
“Want to go to my room, listen to music, and just chill then?”
A small smile forms on her lips. “That’s my favorite thing.”
With our hands clasped together, we walk up the stairs and I try hard to not act like I’m walking the plank. It’s just impossible to ignore. With every step, every breath, each word, and every second, we’re that much closer to saying goodbye.
And it’s killing me.
I turn on my stereo to her favorite station. I’m more of a rock guy, but she loves that ‘N Sync and Britney Spears shit. So for her, I’ll risk my stereo bursting into flames from playing shitty music and let her have her way.
Every time we’re in here, we always lie on the bed, stare up at the ceiling, and hold hands. Even when we were only friends, this is what we did. As we grew closer and lines became blurred, a lot more kissing was involved, but this is our center, our starting point.
“I’m going to miss you,” she whispers.
“Don’t. I’m not ready to say our goodbyes yet.”
She nods, blinking away the tears. Holding her face in my hands, I do the only thing I know how to comfort her and place my lips on hers. She devours the solace I try to provide not only her, but myself as well. She clings to my shirt and it’s not long until I taste salt on my tongue and know she’s crying. It makes me hold on to her tighter.
“Shh, it’s okay,” I tell her between kisses.
She runs her hand under my shirt and my abs tighten with her touch. Where she normally touches me gently, this time there’s a desperation in the rough way her hands run over my skin. They travel higher up before stopping when they reach the bandage on my chest.
“I almost forgot,” she says. “Take it off.”
Sitting up, I grab the back of
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