“Yeah,” I croaked. “I read every word. I have no intention of simplytryingto be with you, Crew.” I cradled him in my arms, desperate to soothe a decade-old ache I couldn’t see. “I don’t have to try. Trying would be like saying I’ll give a little bit of effort and then give up. Loving you is effortless. I don’t have to try to do that. What I will try to do is be the best boyfriend possible for you, even though I know I’m going to fuck it up from time to time.”
He buried himself in my chest, his curly, messy brown hair tickling just under my chin. I could feel his sobs as much as I could hear them,his tears soaking my sleep shirt. My arms felt raw as I tightened them around him, the fabric of his clothes rubbing against the irritated scratches on my arm.
Stifling a groan of pain, I gently untwisted my hoodie from underneath his head, having served its duty as an interim Pilly for the night. It’d begun to cling to him, the sleeves wrapping around his neck. The sight left me feeling out of sorts, knowing Crew had chosen something with my scent on it to sleep on.
Sobs died down to sniffles as Crew tilted his head back, looking up at me. Stars in every shade of blue reflected back at me, shooting across the sky of his pupils. “You love me?” he asked, seemingly hesitant to say the words.
“Of course I do. I think…” I let my eyes close as the crystal-clear memory of our first meeting danced in front of my eyes. “I think the first time I saw you, I knew I would see you again.”
A hesitant upward tilt of his lips formed the most hesitant smile. The area around his nose and left eye was deeply bruised, serving as a reminder of the night before. Handprints sat around his neck, dark and swollen-looking. It hurt me to see him like that—a smile on his face with bruises as horrific decoration.
Crew had gone through Hell trying to escape his past. Though silent, I made a vow in my head to make sure he would never wear another scrape for as long as we both lived.
He whispered to me, his voice raw and wavering. “Like fate, almost?”
“Do you believe in fate?”
“I didn’t use to, but…” He ducked back down, finding solace in my chest.
“But what?” I pulled back enough to cup his cheeks gently, forcing his face towards me.
A tinge of pink spread across his nose, traveling along his cheeks and down his neck. It mixed with the purpling bruise, reminding me of a country sunset he’d described to me once. “Meeting you has me wondering about things. Like, was meeting you fate? Was it luck? Was it my mom, sending me an angelic soul who could see past all my bullshit and still have the guts to love me despite it all?” His eyelids slipped shut as he relaxed, the weight of his head falling completely lax in my hands. “There were Christmas decorations everywhere. At first, I thought they were mocking me. Maybe it was Mom sending me a sign in some way.”
I thought about it, trying to remember the shops we’d passed by while looking for Crew. “There have been a lot more decorations out. Not many usually get this festive. Do you think it was her?”
“I’d like to think so. Maybe she’s trying to get my attention somehow. I can almost hear her saying, ‘Don’t you dare ignore your mother, C.’” Crew’s laugh shook both of us as he rolled from my hands, laying his head on my arm. His eyes focused on nothing, his smile fading. “I haven’t visited her grave in a long time. Willow has gone more than I have. It just hurts, y’know?”
I did and I didn’t all at the same time. Not being able to see my mom—though it was by choice and necessity—ate me up inside sometimes. Nobody prepared me for the phantom ache of a hug I never knew I’d miss until it was gone. Just out of reach, yet impossible to find.
Pulling Crew against me, I nodded. “I know it does.”
What else could I say? Crew’s pain wasn’t fixable. There was no wound to bring back together and put a Band-Aid over. His mom’s death was a gaping hole nothing could fill.
We both knew the world was covered in white, stuck in a standstill that would keep us from opening The Arch. The curtains over my window flapped around in the breeze of the heating, letting sunlight peek through every so often, but neither of us wanted to leave the bed.
After an eternity of silent cuddling, Crew mumbled against my shirt, “I told you I thought I was falling for you in my letter.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I lied.”
“Oh?”
“I fell a while ago, I think.” He shuffled around, appearing in front of me, inches away from my lips. “I’ve never been in love before, but I know that’s what this is. I love you, Prince Charming.”
I kissed him. I let the ice he harbored engulf my flame, dulling it as I melted his ice. “I love you, too, baby.” My lips didn’t dare leave his. “I love you, too.”
Crew insistedon freshening up while I got breakfast ready. He left the bed before I did, grumbling at the way I yelled where he could find basic first aid in the bathroom.
The streets were covered in snow and ice, confirming what I already knew. I let everyone know we would play things by ear on when we’d open back up and let them know that Matt would compensate them for the closure. I was secretly hoping we would be stuck for another two days since Christmas Eve was tomorrow. Being stuck with Crew through the holidays didn’t sound too terrible.
“That smells fucking amazing.”
I laughed as I turned towards Crew, two plates of basic bacon and eggs in hand. “It’s nothing special, unfortunately.” And breakfast had ended well over an hour ago. It was more brunch than anything.
The grin on his face was short-lived, turning sour as I set the plates on the table. “Price, your arms.” He rushed forward, his hands out to cradle my arms gently. “Oh, Price.”
I watched as he traced a finger over the uninjured sides of my inner arm. He sounded so torn and heartbroken. “It’s okay, Pretty Boy. Nothing serious.”
