This time, I leaned into him. I breathed in and he rushed through me; fire against paper. Opening my eyes, I had the pleasure of watching his close, just before I kissed him—gentle and slow. After the kiss ended, he still hadn’t opened his eyes.
“Scarlett.”
“Yes?”
“Time. I need time.”
I watched him, even though he still had his eyes closed. “Not at the cabins…not with my parents in town—”
He shook his head. “No, not there.”
“Where?”
“I have a place.”
“All right,” I agreed, a bit breathless. “For how long?”
Finally, he looked at me.
“As long as we have.”
I mentally prepared myself for the lies I would have to tell. Spending time with Violet came to mind.No problem there.I would just have to come home for Christmas. My father had extended an invitation for Brando to join us. He had accepted. Afterward, my parents usually spent time in the Swiss Alps…
“Scarlett.”
“Hmm?”
No, no problem at all. Forever wouldn’t even be long enough with him.
“No lies.”
Oh.
“I don’t think that will work, Brando. My mother is—”
He stood but kept our hands linked. “Pack your things.”
“You’re being serious?”
“I don’t have much of a sense of humor.”
He did, for the most part. But even that couldn’t detract me from what he had presented.
“All right,” I said, my heart beating overtime. “But first, I have a gift.”
* * *
It was hard to read Brando’s thoughts as he took in Elliott’s room. At first, he kept my hand in his, not letting go. After the moments ticked, though, he started to explore on his own.
He needed time on his own to reconnect.
I watched him from the bed. My heart was of dual feelings—swelling with half sadness and another half a sense of comfort. We were bonded by the grief we shared, and by that night and our connection.
Brando pressed a button on Elliott’s stereo and the last song he had felt the beat to started to play. “Stand By Me.” Most people were dumfounded by my brother’s love of music; even though he couldn’t hear it, he could feel the beat of it. He’d close his eyes, put his hand to the speaker, and lose himself.
Brando went to turn it off, but I lifted my hand to stop him. “Leave it,” I whispered. “I listen to it sometimes. Just…just to feel close.”
He stood as still as calm water until he nodded, and I could see his eyes had glossed over. “It all looks the same.” His voice had roughened, almost to the point of straining.
