Flashback - Winter 2014/15

Flashback

Isaiah - Winter 2014/15

A urora was a beacon amongst the intimate crowd.

The cafe was forty minutes outside of our hometown, diminishing the possibility of running into anyone from school. Therefore, she was the only familiar face. Though, really, she was the only one I ever looked for anyway.

Above, the stage light is tiny, but I hear the buzzing of the lightbulb as I settle in front of the small crowd. Clearing my throat, I begin.

I'm only up here because I lost a bet to Aurora because she wants to see me embrace it. It's terrifying reading words I wrote in front of other people that aren't her. My voice turns shaky a few lines in, and I find her to steady myself. She gives me a thumbs up and a silly smile, easing my nerves. With a deep breath, I push on. Aurora has confidence in me at all times. And in my work. No matter how many times I throw it away or edit it or say a negative word, Aurora's there at every turn. My voice calms, turning slow and methodical, the way I've practiced, and I watch her beaming smile turn into something gentle. Something proud.

When I finish, I step off the stage to an echo of gentle claps and snaps and head straight for her. And Aurora is a beaming ray of sunshine in a dimly lit room. Her hands are waving in the air like my own personal cheering squad. As I approach, she wiggles her eyebrows and makes a heart with her fingers. My lips fight a smile only to fail instantly.

"You're such a goof." I sit, placing my work down on the table, and take a sip of the coffee she got me.

"You did great. I really loved those." Aurora sets her chin in her hands, turning those doe-eyed, hazel eyes up at me.

Sheepish, I shrug my shoulders. "They were alright."

She hits my chest with the back of her hand. "Stop it. They were great." The brief touch sends heat spreading through my veins. Her eyes are warm under the soft light, golden brown and specks of green—a color that I've never seen anywhere else. "You need to stop being so hard on yourself."

"It's a lot more fun this way. What kind of writer would I be if I didn't doubt myself at every turn?"

Aurora crosses her arms. "A smart one."

"Are you saying I'm unintelligent?" I lean toward her, cocking my head as our eyes lock. Her pulse jumps in the crook of her neck, and her cheeks flush. Something that's been happening consistently for the past year. A touch, a lingering glance and her cheeks turn pink instantly. My lips quirk, and she rolls her eyes.

"I'm saying you're a pain in my ass."

"Someone's gotta be." I stand, holding my hand out for her. "Come on. Let's go. I'm starving."

She grabs my hand, her tongue flicking over her lip. In my palm, heat flows from her hand into mine as we head outside. I can't stop thinking about her. Haven't been able to stop for so long now. Thinking about Aurora is the one constant I can count on. In the morning, in class, at night. All the fucking time.

All I think about is her curly hair brushing her shoulders or being held back by pre-wrap on the field. Her eyes and the various colors they take on under different lights. Melted bronze or deep gorgeous brown like old, classic literature books. And specks of green that shine like leaves in the summer time. About her smile when she sees me or when she steps off the field after a win. The way she always sits with her knee up on her chair to lean on. How she sleeps on her left side more than her right and that she loves still doing the monkey bars but hates callouses.

And it feels like she feels the same. The constantly pink cheeks, the way her pulse skitters, the way I catch her looking at me a little longer than she used to. I mean, things have changed for me. Have they changed for her?

Is that a risk I can take?

What if I do and it goes wrong? What if she doesn't feel the same?

I'll have lost the only true friend I've ever had. My best friend in the world.

"Isaiah," she says, her voice dancing over my skin. I look at her, and I easily see the rest of my life. "You okay?"

Coming out of the haze, I realize we're by my car. I have no idea how long we've been standing here in the cold, but I know her hand is still in mine. She looks content to keep it that way.

"Sorry," I say, eyes flickering to her lips. "Got distracted."

The sun has mostly set, leaving us under the dusk sky. Stars start to twinkle in the sky above, but the brightest one is holding my hand.

What if I do take the risk and it goes right?

My pulse skyrockets.

"Distracted by what?" She furrows her brow, adorably at that, and gives me a half smile.

Swallowing, I say, "By you."

"Me? What—"

Instead of answering, I hold up our intertwined hands. Not just palm to palm. Our fingers are threaded together. I watch her cheeks turn bright red.

She tries to pull her hand away. "Sorry, I shouldn't have…I didn't mean to hold on," Aurora mumbles, but I don't let go. Instead, I place my notebook on top of the car and tug her closer. Our bodies don't touch, but I feel it all the same.

"I don't want to let go."

Aurora stops. Just like that. I'm pretty sure it's shock, so I try not to laugh, but her eyes latch onto the way my mouth twitches. A million memories pass between us and flash in my head. Mostly of this past year, of all the times we've brushed fingers, all the times our skin has touched.

"Isaiah…"

I meet her eyes. "I mean it, Rora. I don't want to let go." I brush my thumb over her knuckles. Our breath puffs in the air, little white clouds dissipating in the cold. Reaching up, I tuck a curl behind her ear, watching as her eyelashes flutter.

"You're my best friend."

Aurora nods, the tips of her boots touching mine. "Yes."

I hesitate for a brief moment. The what-ifs pound. Over and over, knocking at the door to get in. But only one remains.

What if it works?

"What about more?"

"More?" she basically squeaks. I smile.

"What if I wanted more?" I ask and watch her fluster. It's funny given that she is often not. Aurora is steadfast and sure. Confident. Not flustered. I like it.

I take a deep breath. "Can I kiss you?"

Her hazel eyes are wide, looking up at me. I take her in. A beanie keeps her curls contained and her ears covered, a hoodie of mine is draped over her shoulders under a jacket, and leggings hug her hips and her legs. She's beautiful. Always has been. Always will be.

But it's more than that. Aurora is as beautiful inside as she is out. She's tough but kind. A hard shell with a soft, mushy inside that likes baby animals and watching rom-coms on repeat, but who also likes watching horror, even though she gets scared. That cares about people more than she lets on. She's funny but only when you really know her. And I know her. I really know her.

"Aurora?"

She blinks and swallows thickly. Then nods frantically. "Yes."

I smile and don't miss my opportunity. My free hand finds her neck, cool from the cold air, and my fingers find purchase in her hair, brushing the spot under her ear. Our noses brush first, and the moment they do, my pulse calms, and my skin settles. Between us, our breaths mingle, and I watch her watch me until I close the space. Our lips touch—soft, gentle. A simple exploratory brush at first.

Aurora leans closer, pressing them more firmly. It's simple. Until it isn't. She exhales, "Oh."

Oh is right. I tug her closer—as close as I can get her. Oh.

Our lips find a rhythm with zero effort, like they've been waiting for this. Her fingers grip tightly onto my sweatshirt, holding me there. As if I was going anywhere else.

Kissing Aurora is like coming home.

It all makes sense. Everything. It makes everything make sense. Together, our lips move. My tongue teases her lip but goes no further. She tastes like coffee and chocolate from her mocha, and I drink it down. It feels like the whole world was blurry, and now, it's not. Now, it's a perfect picture. My heart beats steadily in my chest. Her pulse beats wildly under my fingers, and I don't think either of us are breathing.

All we're doing is kissing, but it feels like so much more. Both my hands cup her cheeks, brushing over her cheek bones, her skin hot to the touch. I need to breathe, but I don't want to stop, even for a second. Eventually, we do. Aurora pulls back—barely but enough to breathe.

Her eyes stay closed. "Oh."

I laugh, and she blinks up at me. A slow, gorgeous smile spreads across her lips. I can't help it—I lean back in to press another kiss to her lips. She sighs, leaning into me as I do. It feels good, knowing she's comfortable, that she trusts me. I pull back, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.

Aurora's eyes are bright and her smile more so. Her eyes track over my face, dancing from my lips to my eyes, while her hands stay gripped tightly on my shirt. "So, what now?"

I raise a brow. "We go get ice cream."

"And?"

"And we do that some more."

She laughs, a twinkling, warm sound. Her hands move from my shirt and reach up to cup my face, her fingers brushing over my skin, leaving sparks behind. "I've been wondering if we were ever going to do that."

"Me, too," I say, tugging a curl. "Should've done it sooner."

Aurora blushes but nods. For a second, she rocks on her tiptoes, and then, she presses her lips to mine again. I sigh. Kissing Aurora will never get old. I think I'd be content like this for the rest of my life.

To kiss her forever.