So very much more.
Gully was distant during our second day in York. We went to the Castle Museum and Jorvik, taking the ride round the Viking village that incorporated what the smells would’ve been like in that period, smells which I found strong enough to make me feel like I was going to vomit most of the way round.
I found a café afterwards, and Gully disappeared because there was ‘something he needed to do’. I didn’t ask questions. We were spending so much time together a little space would be healthy, even if it was just for an hour or two, so he went and did whatever it was that he needed to, and I headed to York Minster, taking part in half an hour of a four hour tour and then soothing my soul with photographs, capturing light and dust that gave the photos a painting-like quality even before I’d edited them.
I saw parents with a baby strapped to the dad’s chest, his gaze at his child making him look like he had his entire world with him and my eyes grew wet when I saw him circle his partner’s shoulders with his arm, a moment I wished I could capture onfilm, but instead I stored it in my head, replacing their faces with that of mine and Gully’s, my hand on my stomach as I thought what was growing in there.
I found Gully near the Shambles, a narrow street that could’ve been out of Harry Potter. He was looking in the window of a shop that sold pasties, which could suggest he was hungry, but was more likely to be something to do with a character arc or plot development.
I was gathered up in his arms when he saw me, and he clearly wasn’t bothered about public displays of affection when he captured my mouth with his, the kiss probably a little too long for the good people and tourists of York.
“What was that for?”
“I missed you.” His arms stayed around me. “How was your afternoon?”
“Good,” I nodded. “Photos and site seeing and milling around. What did you get up to?”
“I had a purchase to make.” His grin was devilish. “I’m not telling you what.”
“I’ll find out at some point.”
“I’ll tell you at some point. But not today. Want to go back to the hotel for a bit? Freshen up?” We’d started to walk in that direction.
“Is that a code word for sex? Freshen up?”
His smile was one of my favourite sights, more so than any sculpture or landmark or place.
“No. You haven’t asked nicely enough yet.”
I shook my head. “This could be a very sexless few years if you don’t give in.”
That earned me a laugh. “We only get one more first time.”
“What do you mean?” His words sounded like an ending. Panic rose faster than the River Ouse during storm season.
“After you’ve lost your mind with the vast number of orgasms you’ll receive when I’m inside you, that’ll be it. No more two-year droughts from my dick. No more second first times. We only have one of these.” He looked almost wistful at the thought.
I paused, thoughts rapidly circling in my head, some of them not so good.
“We can co-parent without being in a relationship, you know. Like we said at the start. I’d rather you break my heart now if you don’t want a – a commitment with me.” My eyes were teary again.
Gully stopped walking. “What?” He frowned at me, his expression furious. “Why would you think that?”
“If you’re, I don’t know, not ready to settle down. You want more first times.” I swallowed, trying not to cry because that would be pathetic.
Gully faced me, his hands going to my hips, steadying me firm, shaking his head. “’Ris, you’ve got completely the wrong end of the stick, so much that it’s a different stick in another country, possibly in a different time zone.”
“You were saying about this being the last first time - ”
“For us. I wanted us both to remember it, to be, I don’t know,desperatefor it because we want each other not because we’re tied together forever and it’s convenient. I don’t want you to be with me because it’s convenient with me being the father of your baby. I want you to be with me because you’re in love with me.” He swallowed. “Like I’ve been in love with you for the last two years.”
York disappeared.
Whatever the weather was doing, it stopped.
The world’s axis got a little rusty because it stopped spinning momentarily.
“Two years?” It was all I could say.
