40 - Always

40

Always

I always loved the end of November and the beginning of December. The last of the leaves are still clinging on to the trees. There's still a spot of color before the winter gray settles, and most days, the sun still shines.

And everything feels…happy and exciting with the holidays. It's a bit different these years—in two ways. One, Dad and I are still distant—and I'm still learning what that looks like. But on the other, I have Isaiah. And that's enough to be thankful for in one. Despite the injury. Despite my father.

Isaiah is here.

"Alright, ready?" he asks, his voice almost lost in the downpour of the rain outside. I smile and nod. Isaiah goes first, pushing open his door and comes around to my side of the car, picking me up out of my seat. I squeal, holding my crutches in one hand as Isaiah runs us to the door of the diner. Rain splatters on each of us, but both of us remain smiling.

The diner is packed, hence the mad dash to the door. Isaiah sets me down when we're safely under the awning. "Thank you, Zay."

Isaiah kisses my cheek and reaches around me to get the door. The warmth of him sinks into me. We enter and are thankfully seated quickly in the back at a small booth. There's a jukebox in the corner, and the seats are cracked. Giant menus sit on the table with an array of milkshake options. We've been going to diners every weekend in the city and in the surrounding area, trying to find our new favorite spot.

"Are we getting a Christmas tree?"

"Of course, if you want," Isaiah says, studying the menu, even though I know what he'll order. "Real or fake?"

"I'd prefer real, but what about Raven?"

"She'll be fine." He eyes me. "Don't forget, we have those ornaments we made from when we were kids."

I rest my head in my palm, taking all of him in. We went through his keepsake box the other day. It was painted in shades of green and dotted with poetry along the top and the sides. Inside, it was filled with an array of things that meant something to him, or to Elijah, or to me. There were pins from some of my soccer tournaments, statues I had bought him if I went anywhere exciting, some of his early poetry, pictures of us or him and his brother. There were pairs of old glasses in there, old comics, and other notes. There was also a little glass octopus that painted a rainbow on the walls in the sun. And the Christmas ornaments we made.

They were wooden Christmas trees and snowflakes that we got to paint and decorate with our initials on the back of each.

"This is the first time they'll hang on the same tree," I say, tapping my fingers on the table. Underneath, Isaiah has our legs intertwined. "The first time we'll celebrate together. It's a lot of firsts for us. I'm happy we're finally getting them."

He stares at me with a heated, loving look. "I want to kiss you."

"Nothing is stopping you, Bryant."

"The room full of people are. I can't kiss you the way I want right now."

I smile, my cheeks heating. I grab the menu and hide my face, to which he laughs at. Isaiah pushes it down with his hand and cups my chin. He leans over and gives me a tiny kiss, one that only makes me wish we were already home. So he can kiss me the way he wants.

Eventually, the waitress comes, taking our milkshake orders. Isaiah gets his favorite—coffee ice cream with a caramel drizzle and extra whipped cream. And I get my own—chocolate peanut butter with chocolate cookies and rainbow sprinkles. They arrive in large, silver containers that are frosted from the chill.

I spoon a big bite, knowing immediately that there's ice cream on my face. "You're such a mess," he muses.

"I'm your mess."

Isaiah reaches over, his thumb swiping the ice cream off my cheek. He pops it into his mouth, eyes never leaving mine. My cheeks heat, my body warmed by his words and the way he looks at me. "My very pretty, very beautiful mess."

I take him in. Even though we did miss some years, sitting here, it feels like we missed no time at all. It feels like we're teenagers all over again. Teenagers who knew they meant something to each other, who knew they were best friends but had no clue the type of love that would grow in the space between them.

Now, we're twenty-somethings who do know they're in love. Who are in love. Who are each other's person, each other's home. And we are happy.

There's such simplicity in that word: happy. But it's all anyone ever wants. To be happy. To feel happiness. And I feel that when I look at him. And I know that when he looks at me, he sees everything. Every flaw and mistake, every failure and every success, and I know that he loves me.

"Isaiah, where are you taking me?"

"Shut up and walk, Rora," he says, lips brushing the shell of my ear. Isaiah's fingers are threaded with mine as he leads us from behind. It's been a few days since the diner, but today, he woke me up by telling me he had a surprise for me. I've been living in anticipation ever since.

In my ear he tells me when to step as he has since we got out of the car. It's only been a few steps, but being blindfolded makes the world feel endless.

I hear a click, and I'm instructed to step up. Excitement starts to build, buzzing under my skin, waiting for their release. "Okay. I'm taking this off but eyes closed still, okay?" His voice is soft, but it echoes. Wherever we are is empty.

"Alright." The slight pressure disappears from over my eyes, but I keep them squeezed tight. My legs tremor with adrenaline.

"Okay, go ahead."

I blink my eyes open and am greeted with wood floors, crown molding, and archways. "Isaiah…what is this?"

Stepping forward, he grabs my hand and slowly leads me through. "Possible house. It's still a rental, but there is opportunity in the future for more. We're right outside the city."

It's gorgeous. There's a staircase leading upstairs with a detailed railing. Isaiah continues telling me about the house. Two bedrooms and two and a half baths. A full living room with a fireplace, big windows, built-in shelves, and it just goes on and on and on. He walks us around and around, hand intertwined with mine.

Oh, man.

Everywhere I look, I can see us here. Isaiah at his desk in the living room against the windows. Raven curled up on the windowsill in the sunlight or in front of the fireplace. The kitchen is gorgeous with shiny, new countertops and a breakfast nook. A big door that leads to a small porch and a backyard. Every step, I see us. Isaiah in the kitchen and me on the counter. Sitting on the porch in the sunlight, even though it's currently under a thin layer of early December snow.

We are everywhere in this house.

I didn't know it was possible to fall in love in some way every single day, but Isaiah absolutely shatters that belief. Because every day, it's something. Most days, it's small. Things that are simply a part of our routine that solidifies his position in my life. That solidifies his love for me. That exists in remembering the type of socks I like to wear to practice or what creamer I like.

But sometimes, it's things like this. Thoughts, dreams, snapshots of the future that tell me he thinks about it just as often as I do.

"Isaiah," I say, turning around to find his waiting beautiful eyes. "It's perfect. How did you—is this possible?"

"It's possible. Kian helped me find it. Friend of a friend." He rocks up on his tiptoes. "So, you like it?"

I step closer, motioning around us. "I love it."

Though I think maybe part of that is how easily it's already become ours in my head. Standing there with him, it feels like we're on the precipice of another step of our lives. But the leaps of hope aren't scary with him. They feel natural, as easy as breathing. As easy as counting to three.

Life with him, the idea of a future with him, is that simple.

Isaiah runs his knuckles over my jawbone, the knuckles that have my name on them, and a shiver dances down my spine. "I love you."

My body reacts to his touch immediately. I rest against his chest, wrapping my arms around him so I can fit my hands in his back pockets. "Kiss please," I murmur.

He smiles like he always does when I ask him to kiss me, and he does. I squeeze a hand against his firm butt, drawing a laugh out of him, our breaths mingling as we kiss in an empty house that might be ours. At least for a little while.

"I want it," I say against his lips. "I want the house. If we can do it, if we can have it, I want it."

"If it's what you want, that's what we'll get," he murmurs, his hand cupping my face. Sparks emit from his palm, burying themselves in my skin.

"I'm serious." I blink my eyes open to find him already watching me.

He's always watching me. When I expect him not to be, when I try to catch him first, I can't. Because he's always looking at me. Always seeing me.

Isaiah's thumb presses under my chin. "I want it, too. A home with you. I want that. I want it here."

A just like that, a big, bright smile takes over my lips. How could I not? Standing here with him in this house. "I love you. So much." I string an arm over his shoulder, my hand cupping his neck. "You are the only person in the entire world I have loved like this. That I will ever be in love with like this. Just you. It's you and me."

His dimple shines through, and his eyes hold the entire universe. "Always has been. Always will be." Isaiah tugs me into him as close as he possibly can. Lifting me slightly, my toes are on his, and he walks down the hall through the house. "Now say it again."

I furrow my brows. He squeezes my butt in response.

"Say it again."

"Hm," I murmur, our lips touching. "I love you." With his hand buried in my curls and his arms around me as tight as they can get, I whisper it again and again. "I love you. I love you, Isaiah."

He hums, content. "I love you."

I shake my head, wiping away a tear that escapes from his eye. "Thank you for making it so easy." I kiss the tip of his nose. "And it's not something I do. It's just something I am. Loving you is a part of who I am."

Love is so simple with Isaiah.

It comes as easy as breathing. It's not just something I do; it is integral to who I am. It's in my blood and in my bones. Loving Isaiah is a part of my DNA. Without it…I'm not sure who I would be. But we don't have to worry about that. We are one. IsaiahAurora. We are forever.

The two of us are as simple as flowers blooming, as solid as the ground beneath our feet, and as full and free as two people could be. It may be cheesy and dramatic and extremely fucking sappy…but we were made to love each other. I believe that with my whole heart. We are two halves of a whole. Two puzzle pieces destined to be together.

Isaiah is my forever. My future. My love.

I smile against his lips and repeat his earlier words,

"Always has been. Always will be."