Journey || Erik Durm

♂

ERIK:

        "CLOSE your eyes, Erik," Emilia whispered, tracing her fingers down my face, "and tell me, what do you see?"

"I see the future," I told her.

"The future?"

"I see you. And I see me—I see us."

Emilia giggled, withdrawing her hands from my face, causing me to open my eyes.

"What?" I asked sheepishly.

"You're so fucking cheesy," she drawled, shaking her head. She stirred slightly on her position on my lap. "I love you."

I smiled.

"Erik?"

"Hm?"

"What would you do if I kissed you right here, right now?"

I grinned. "You want to try and find out?"

Emilia silently glanced away, shying from my gaze as her breathing accelerated. Even though she was looking away, he breath pooled onto my face, denoting our short proximities. Before she could lean in, I smiled at her, the same mischevious smile that I had given her countless times before, and then, with a short intake of breath, let her lean into me—press her lips softly on mine.

☂

            "Erik?"

 "Sh," I whispered. "I'm having a really good dream, Mama."

"You're crying."

I gasped, my wet eyes flinging open. And there she was beside me: Charlotte—not Mama—eyeing me in the same way she had done a several days ago. "Erik," she murmured. "It was so weird. You were tossing back and forth and I thought you were awake but then you started whimpering and I was s—"

I clamped my hands over my mouth as Charlotte spoke on, feeling bile rise in my throat.

"—are you okay?" she digressed, her eyes widening.

"I'm fine," I said forcibly, swallowing the queasy feeling. "It's just really hot in here and I'm sweating."

"From your eyes?"

"Yes, from my eyes, Charlotte. Will you drop it?"

"What were you dreaming about?"

"Charlotte," I warned, narrowing my eyes at her. It was precisely then—as I raked Charlotte's concerned face—that it dawned on me where we were—tangled under the same sheets—and I instinctually jumped, shouting, "Fuck! I'm supposed to be behind the counter."

"Erik, you looked really tired last night so I dragged you in and—"

"Who told you do?" I shouted, rubbing my temples. "Damn it, Charlotte, will you quit trying to play heroine all the time?"

"I—"

"Just leave me alone."

With that, I hastily stomped out of the bed and into the diner, unknowing of why my mood was so sour. I sighed deeply upon noticing that Mama was already up, serving customers. Although busy, she smiled when she saw me, the worn gesture barely reaching her eyes. "Good morning, Erik."

"Mama, I'm sor—" I began, but she raised her hand, silencing me.

"It's okay," she said weakly.

"You're disappointed."

"I am."

"Because I didn't keep the diner open?"

"Because your breath smells like cheap vodka," she corrected, tightening the press on her lips.