Page 65 of All Your Days
I was just trying to avoid feeling uncomfortable, but now I’m curious. I kinda thought he was just joking around and that he wanted to show me his dick. Okay, maybe I washopingit was that, too, but apparently he has something else in mind.
“Sit up.” He smacks my shoulder impatiently and, begrudgingly, I allow him up.
It’s obvious he’s nervous as he rushes around the room, pulling notebooks from all over the place.
“This—uh—now that I think about it, this may be a terrible idea.” He chews his lip and stares at the stack of notebooks, clearly unsure.
“Eli, you don’t have to—“
“No, be quiet. You shared with me. I gotta share with you. Look.”
A book is thrust into my hands. Carefully, I open the cover.
“Did you want to sit down next to me?”
“No, I wanna be standin’. Easier to get to the loo if I need to puke.”
I laugh along with him, but it dies in my throat when I realise what I’m looking at.
It’s me.
Page after page of sketches—all of them me.
Sure, some of them are just hands or lips or eyes—even my hair—but there is enough to put the picture together.
“Holy shit, Eli… this is.. this…”
I turn the page again and it’s me again. Faceless this time, but I know. I’m holding someone. Someone who’s blurry outline looks remarkably like the man right in front of me.
“Creepy? Weird? Kinda stalkerish in a way that rivals all your lurkin’ over the years?”
I chuckle, still staring at the silhouette of us.
“Well, yeah, but also… it’s incredible.” I drag my eyes up to him, my heart thudding in my chest. “But, why?”
“Because, Jacob. I—I love you too. I reckon I have for the longest time.” His delicate hand rests on the pile. “They are all you—ten years of you.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I breathe, staring into his eyes, completely floored by the deep well oflovein them. Something giddy and unfamiliar bubbles up inside me. To beseenas thoroughly as Eli sees me is humbling. It should be unsettling, but with him—because of him—it feels safe. A soft laugh rumbles out of my chest, my smile hurting my face. “Fuck, but we were idiots, weren’t we?”
I shake my head and carefully put the stack of sketchbooks to the side. Eli’s face wavers for a second, his insecurity trying to rear its ugly head. But then his smile breaks through again, a soft pink blush spreading over his cheeks.
“Yeah, that about covers it.” He steps closer til his knees brush mine, his fingers toying with the pockets of his pants, not quite sure what to do with themselves.
Needing to touch him, I reach up and place my hands on his hips, giving them—and his fidgeting hands—a squeeze before brushing down his thighs and back up. Capturing Eli’s eyes, we stare for a moment, reality finally sinking in for the both of us.
This is it. There’s no taking it back. Not that I’d ever dream of it.
“I love you, Eli.” My whisper melts away the last of his fear.
“I love you too.” He whispers back, cupping my cheek and stroking my beard almost reverently. I’ll never tire of hearing him say those words.
“C’mere.” Slipping my hands around, I tug firmly on his hips, sending Eli tumbling towards me.
Not that he fights me. His mouth crashes against mine, kissing me with all the emotions we don’t know how to say.
He pushes me back onto his bed that’s barely big enough to fit the two of us, but after nights of camping cots and trailer floors, it’s the most luxurious feeling in the world.
It might be why we take our time, allowing our bodies to say all the things we can’t find the words for. Peeling our clothes from our bodies like they are layers of our souls, kissing the bared skin like they’re revelations.
