THE DECEMBER DIARIES

chapter six

Barnaby had empty cups in her room that had no reason to be there besides her lack of desire to make the short trip to the kitchen sink. Her books all uniformly contained stains of food or drinks, and her passions were scattered across a map of random interests to which she did not divide her attention evenly nor did she care to see through to the end. 

But when Baz met Maverick Lowe and looked at him like he was the moon, she felt like she'd become the type of person who would mend the wholes in her socks, rather than collect them. That's what love does to a person, I suppose.

Mav laid there while she quietly brushed his hair.  "You're leaving tomorrow."

She paused. "Yeah."

He smiled. "In another universe I'd be grabbing your hand right now and taking you out. Right to downtown. We'd do some crazy stuff, run out of breath. Run from cops. That kind of thing."

"Do you think about the other universes a lot?"

"Constantly. In another life the sun is pink and we'd end up together. And in another one the ocean has teeth and we'd meet in a library."

Her face lightened. "In this life you're sitting here while I brush your hair. I think this one might be my favorite."

He looked at her, and then went back to looking at the sky. "When you get back to the city, you should write me a letter. Telling me all about things nobody would care about like the new Tupperware set you bought or a weird bug you saw on your kitchen window. And at the end you'll say that you wish I get well soon, right before you sign your name."

She cracked a smile. "I know for a fact that you'd send me a drawing of me attached to your letter because you're a textbook soft-boy."

He laughed, "You've gotta be kidding me! God, you do one nice thing and boom, you're a simp."

She grinned, "Listen, I'm not complaining!" She brought her cheek to her shoulder shyly, "It makes me feel like a muse, really."

"Ah, the old muse trope. I suppose you are. The least mysterious muse to have ever existed."

She flicked his head which made him groan in quick pain. "I can be mysterious! When people look at me they can't tell where I'm from. That's mysterious."

He brought his hand to his head, complaining. "I know pretty much everything about you, Bazentine. Chill!"

She huffed. "Umm, excuse me, you do not. I can be complex and intimidating."

He lowered his head and looked at her with debauchery attitude. "You could be holding a gun right now and I would still not be afraid of you." She cracked into a laugh and pushed him away from her. "Listen I may be dying but at least I'm not afraid of elevators. That's pretty sad. Like, I  feel bad for you." 

Her laughter roared and his smile melted into the focus of looking at her as he reached his fingers to hold her chin and bring it closer to him, unlocking her lips with a kiss.

-

Constantine stepped outside to get some air. She breathed in slowly as the evening sky began to splatter stains of lilac and light blue paint, and asked her mind to take the day off from thinking about things that she desperately wanted to avoid confronting.

She looked upward at the sky with such a fixation that she didn't even notice the presence of the chef leaning upon the wall not so far from her, smoking a cigarette and blowing it onto the wind. He saw the girl, but didn't say a word, curious as to what she'd be doing when she thought no one was watching.