Chapter 7
Jolie–aged eighteen
The last week had been beautiful. I’d been here three weeks now and was starting to feel somewhat settled.
It all began this time last week when Woodrow asked me if I wanted to do something after his parents went to bed, and I'd instantly agreed. We’d been together day in, day out since I got here, but we’d never done anything after dark. And never alone.
He had been himself the entire duration of my stay, with no switching toalters, as he described them. Completely himself, aside from the very first days.
I’d have missed him if someone else took over, even if it was Woody, who I’d felt drawn to after only a single day together.
Woodrow hadn’t been expecting me to say yes, especially after telling me what he wanted us to do.He still doubted me, even as I trailed his climb, but there we were, on the rooftop of the porch, lying closer than either of us planned, watching the stars go by and getting to know the things about each other that made us who we were.
We did this every few nights over the last seven days, escaping to the stars when they sparkled in the masses.
Last night, on the rooftop, we were closer than ever. We kept our voices low, being only feet away from the balcony that led to Ville and Wynter’s bedroom. But our chats deepened with the growing trust between us. With our feelings for each other.
“It's lonely sometimes.” Woodrow didn't look at me as he spoke, his eyes stayed on the stars, watching them twinkling, but his armtightened around me. He suddenly seemed less comfortable, adjusting his other arm beneath his head. “Not understanding yourself. Not feeling peace. I feel like I get that up here.”
“It’s amazing up here, but I hate that such sad feelings are what draw you here.”
“Me, too.” He blinked as a star above twinkled as brightly as the shine of his eyes. “I need help. I get the dissociation; I understand that. . . but I don't know what else is going on inside my head, and it scares the shit out of me. It’s been different since you’re here. But there’s still noise in my head.”
With my finger, I drew shapes on his chest, swirls that would entwine us forever. “We'll figure it out together. You'll never have to be lonely again.”
I kept up my doodling as I looked up at his face, and his eyes offered me up closer. I hovered above him, his hand leading me closer until our lips brushed. His eyes flicked to mine, asking silently for permission, for more.
And I gave it.
And he kissed me. On the porch rooftop, under a thousand stars. And it was beautiful.
Breaking off, he kissed the tip of my nose, a nose that was colder than the rest of me in the breeze of late night. Flicking his gaze past me, he focused on the dark sky.
“I feel like the night sky.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dark, with little speckles of light bursting through.”
“I wish I knew what that meant.”
“I’m kinda glad you don’t. I feel like I’ll lose you when you know everything.”
“You won’t,” I said confidently. “I need you.”
“I need you more. You’ll never know how much.”
“We’ll agree to disagree, but either way, I think it's beautiful—the night sky.” I rolled back to his side, tucking my body in close to his. I began to smile, realizing that, yes, he was just like the sky. “You're right, it is like you.” I paused for a minute,taking in its beauty, too. “What am I?”
He paused, too.
His eyes moved slightly, to a bright globe that shone down on us, highlighting the beauty of the world below. Highlighting us and the heat between us as he twisted towards me, eyes on my mouth, hand on my waist.
“The moon.” His smile was real as he spoke, lingering throughout his words. “My moonlight. You light up the dark, and stay with it, huddled in, fearlessly.”
It was the most beautiful answer. The most beautiful moment, that had him leaning in, his eyes asking me to angle my head because he couldn’t, and when I did, with a hint of mint, and a little more tongue, he gave me a second kiss, and it somehow tasted even more beautiful than the first.
It was a kiss I’d dreamed of all night. Just like I had his hands. His face. His love.
