Namid

Namid

Ken is exhausted by the time Jayce and I get dinner cleaned up, and the two of us help him to his bedroom and tuck him into bed, almost as if he's our child. I make sure that his pills, a glass of water, and his phone are all within easy reach on his nightstand before Jayce and I tell him goodnight and head back down the hall. It feels comfortable having Jayce here with me, and I ache at the fact that this isn't real. He's only here helping me for the night. He's not actually mine. I know that I'm in love with him, and I've been trying to find peace living with unrequited love burning through my soul. But now I'm learning what it would be like to actually spend my life with Jayce, and it's more perfect than I ever imagined. This is the life I yearn for when I lie alone at night, and I don't want to let go of this dream. Even though I know I'm going to end up heartbroken, I find myself holding these moments close and cataloging each of them so that I have something to look back on when they're gone.

"It looks like the storm has cleared for now. I'd like to show you something if you're not in a hurry to get home." I don't want to press Jayce into staying, but I don't want him to leave. I don't want my time with him to end.

He shakes his head quickly. "No hurry at all."

He means it. He's happy and content here with us. He's always happy and content when we're together these days, but here in Ken's home, it's more intense than it's ever been before.

The afternoon storm was windy and brutal, and in its wake, mud and large puddles cover the gravel drive. We don't bother trying to find boots before making our way across the yard to my small cabin, instead opting to simply try, relatively unsuccessfully, to dodge the worst of the new murky driveway water features. We quickly discard our wet shoes by the door, and I light the fire as Jayce wanders my small living room, taking in the collection of rocks and pinecones that graces my mantle and the pile of books on a nearby shelf.

"It's nice here…cozy. I can see why you decided to stay with Ken." His voice is low and warm. It fills the small space, and I can almost feel it vibrate across my skin.

I sink back on my heels and grin up at him.

"I'm happy here, and Ken is a good family."

A hint of longing flickers through Jayce, but it's not enough to overpower the contentment he feels here with me in this moment.

"Wait here for a minute?" I ask as I stand.

He nods with a gentle smile, and I head into the bedroom to gather blankets .

Jayce raises an eyebrow as I reappear. "I've had a good time with you tonight, Namid, but snuggling in front of the fire seems like a bit much, doesn't it?"

His tone is light and teasing, and he chuckles as he finishes talking. He has no way of knowing just how much I want that, and I force myself to laugh with him as if the idea of us curling up together is nothing more than a joke between friends. As if it's not something I want with every atom of my soul. I force on a smile instead of breaking down and confessing everything, risking our friendship in the process.

"They aren't for snuggling."

I hold out two of the four blankets I've grabbed and sling the other two over my shoulders to wrap myself up tightly. Even in August, stormy nights can dip into the thirties.

"Come with me."

My porch is set at an odd angle, and even though its half covered, most of the western sky is visible. The wind typically blows across the grey, worn boards in a way that doesn't allow much rain or snow to accumulate, but when it does, I always make it a point to keep it clear so that it doesn't freeze or ice over. Tonight, we've lucked out, and even though the storm raged for most of the day, only a few inches near the edge are wet.

Jayce pauses in the doorway, shivering and pulling his blankets tighter, but he follows me outside. When I lie down on the rough wood on my back and squirm around to make sure I'm completely covered by the blankets, crossing my legs and tucking my feet under my thighs, he watches me as if he's starting to doubt my sanity.

"Come on then." My blanket-covered hand pats the ground next to me.

Jayce raises an eyebrow.

"Come on. I lie out here like this all the time. If I'm warm enough, I'm willing to bet you'll survive for a little while."

"Fine, but if I die of frostbite, it's on you." He awkwardly drops to the floor and struggles to get himself both comfortable and covered.

Eventually, he stills.

Through the chilled, calm air that surrounds us, even with several inches and four blankets between us, I can feel his body heat. The way I feel him these days is different from the way I feel everyone else. I can't always tell which emotions are his and which are mine, and even when he's not with me, there are moments when I swear that I know what he's feeling anyway. After a few moments, peace settles around us. The peace I feel when I'm by his side is the same peace that I feel when I lie here alone and watch the stars for hours on end, and as the world seems to slow as we silently lie side by side, his emotions slowly shift to match mine.

"This is one of my favorite things in the world." My voice sounds small and quiet, as if the open wilderness surrounding us absorbs the vibrations and scatters them through the air.

"Every time I lie here, it's different. The weather, the placement of the stars, the time of night - they all change, but somehow, the peace I find is the same. Some nights, the clouds nearly cover the sky with rolling blacks and greys. Some nights, the Aurora swirls with teals and pinks so bright that the colors seem to drip down and cover the world. The vibrant lights reflect off the snowbanks, and it feels like I'm bathed in something ethereal and endless. Like I'm a part of the universe, and each of us is somehow deeply important. On other nights, like tonight, the cold air is crisp and thin, and thousands of stars sparkle overhead; their light seems to hold back the darkness, and if you really look, the sky is a deep blue instead of black. So many stars and so many worlds so far away, and I remember just how small we all really are."

Jayce doesn't speak when I finally stop rambling. Instead, he shifts until our sides are nearly pressed together.

Hours pass as we lie together, each bundled up in our own blanket cocoon, yet somehow, it feels like the most intimate moment I've ever spent with another person.