reason to live (short story) - (UPDATED)✔️

the music man.

everything has a time limit. a clock shrieking twelve and the effects of his muscles tense. i observe in admiration at his pure inflection of joy. "mmkay, we leave at two, are you done packing?" Elliot questions, i grin shaking my head at my significant other's jittery motions.

"almost, i just have to grab a few more snacks, i'll be all set." i look down at the backpack in front of me with a small content smile. he's acting like a kid in a candy shop. honestly, i have no room to complain. if he likes it i love it.

—
we look to the clustered waves, a sign of familiarity rushing through my brain as i reminisce on the moment of my confession. right here, right where i stood as all i could do was scan the trails of my lover, as he traced through the sand.

he loved the beach, still does. i can tell it clears his mind, brings him at ease. it's what he needs, that he purely enjoys. something so effective in the smallest of ways and in some way i was the cause. his feet hitting the base of the cold confrontation in front of him and without warning he yeeps, jumping at the sudden feeling.

and i smile at his reaction.

i pull the sleeves of my sweat pants up, following his pointed gaze at the glimmering sun as it makes a beautiful collision with the water, reflecting from the base in remedy. my legs making their way towards him until we're standing directly amongst one another.

without context, i gently run my hand against his cheek, cuffing the brim of his defined jawline. his expression instantly changing at the show of affection. "you're beautiful, you deserve everything." i feel my voice lowering into a whisper as our eyes meet. "you're everything." i go limp within his hazel eyes, the words rolling off his tongue slow and restless.

this, this is my reason to live.

i think once without thinking again, this is my reason. the anxiety, the star-struck of being perfect replications of unmoral beings, leaving me all at once with just a tweak of six words. six words i'd never regret, six words i can't say yet.

"god, i hate you." i chuckle wrapping my arms around him tightly.

i can feel the smile planted on his face without even looking, our feet soaking in a bath of sweet cinnamon summer. my arms pulling us apart to play through his loose, messy curls. "i'm so in love with you, sometimes it scares me." a confession of reassurance, one within reciprocation, for the times i had lost to make him so sure.

but i'm sure. i'm in love, i'm afraid. it's extraordinary, terrifying, tragic, and gorgeous. a creation in which i can not define in a simple term, simply because i see no need to. i am in love and forth everything that comes with it, i will give him my all in hopes that i can receive the same.

towards love that doesn't run off of benefits of materialistic things.
—
rain.

it begins to rain, the umbrella makes sounds of trickles. his arm laced around my waist, where the people talk, an older man plays. his music mixing with the drizzling rain, and i stop. i look towards the old man, a soul-wise and outspoken man. he had talent indeed. his voice reeked of old musicals, an old bedridden undertone fumbling through the chorus.

yet i stand, Elliot's eyes fixed onto my motionless figure. the man looked homeless, a grey messy beard covering his face, his music sung a tune of stories and his struggles came hitting me in a rush. on the side of him is an empty jar. his hat keeping him protected from the breezing rain.

i sigh, i know what it is that is expected of me.

and i surely don't plan on disappointing. i know all too well of the pained strains inside of his undertone. the feeling of isolation, privilege. i take the coat off of me, alongside it is a hundred-dollar bill. i don't hesitate to let the man retrieve my goods. i just give, in hopes of no return.

"your voice is very very beautiful, i hope to see you in the future as a big leading musician." i reply as the man thanks me repeatedly. "are you hungry? there's no need to have you spend your money so soon, i have leftovers from our date." i softly state.

before i could try to reach for the items from my backpack my boyfriend was already doing the job just for me. "here you go sir." he says politely, handing the homeless man a sandwich and an untouched water bottle. "i wish you nothing but the best, please be careful not to catch a cold." i reply regaining another grateful response from the man.

And we proceeded to walk, Elliot being sure to try and keep me as warm as possible by offering his jacket. He says that he doesn't want me to get a cold, he says that he doesn't want me to be bedridden too. And forth I agree as our travel back to the condo presumes.