Our indelible pasts|✔

forty six - kiana

I'M SURPRISED WHEN I take a look out of the window to see that it's now pitch black outside.

I've lost track of time today thanks to zero glances at my phone and an annoyingly occupied mind to keep me distracted. My tears have been like a faucet today and, I'm pretty sure I've gone through two entire boxes of tissues.

I'm about to cover my head with my blanket again when there's a knock on the door. I proceed with nesting under my blanket in hopes that whoever it is that just knocked will take the hint and give up.

"It's me...Noah." A few moments later I find out the source of the knock.

Of course it's him. Noah can never not check up on me.

When he's met with silence, I hear the sound of my door handle creaking. "I'm coming in, okay?"

I pull my head out from under the covers to peer at the door as he comes in, shutting the door behind him.

We stare at each other not saying anything verbally, but I know right now he can practically hear my plead for him to come take the pain away.

He runs a hand through his dark hair as he makes his way to me, looking like he's just aged 10 years in the past few hours, and climbing into the bed. I watch him as he lies down and stares at the ceiling.

"Today is a day I would advise you most not to look at my ceiling." I softly say.

"Yeah, I should probably stop staring at it." Even though Noah says that, he keeps his eyes trained on the constellations on my ceiling.

I know better than to join him, I've cried enough for one day. No, I've cried enough for one lifetime.

"We were such bad gift givers." Noah smiles.

I manage a little chuckle. "We still are."

"True. But that time was so bad." He reminisces, referring to the constellation wallpaper they got me as a gift. "We argued so much, all of us claiming we knew the perfect gift when we all had shitty ideas. Matter of fact, we had zero ideas."

"It's quite sad that you had to call me. I was very offended by the way."

"It's a good thing we agreed to never do surprise gifts again." He tells me.

"For people who know each other too well, we're so bad at knowing what to give each other." I smile. "It's quite sad really."

"Yeah." Noah sighs, finally shifting his gaze from the ceiling to me, and I know what he's going to say next is going to be a mood dampener. "So, the shit show dinner your mom has planned is starting and I came to find out if you and I are ditching or not."

I've tried my best the entire day to not think about that stupid dinner. The reason behind planning a dinner for the dead daughter you never treated like your own like it's some sort of celebration is beyond my understanding.

"I didn't really miss my mom so maybe we should just ditch."

"Yeah, me too." Noah says. "Smart choice."

I know this boy...

"I'm waiting for the 'but'."

Laughing lightly, Noah picks at a braid of mine and wraps it around his finger. "But...our friends are down there. And Nia would skin us alive if we let her go through that alone."

"Yeah, she would literally do that." I laugh. "Let me just get out of these." I gesture to the sweat drenched clothes I slept in.

When I step out of the bathroom a couple of minutes later, I'm surprised to find Noah with his face in his hands, muffled sobs falling out of him. I find myself immediately rushing to him and wrapping my arms around him, shocking not only him, but myself too. But if I'm being honest, I really need to be in someone's arms today, so I allow myself to feel the pressure on my skin when he hugs me back because the pain is worth it.

Noah is not much of a crier. I think this is like the third time in my entire life I've seen him cry myself.

A few tears stream down my own face when he nests his face in my neck and I feel his warm tears stain my skin.

"We can stay here, we don't have to go." I croak out to him in a whisper.

He doesn't say anything for a while, we just sit there in each other's arms.

When Noah eventually looks up at me, he shakes his head. "No, we should go." He says before heading to my bathroom, probably to wash the evidence of his breakdown away. Noah hates crying.

"Ready?" Asks Noah when he comes out, looking like he didn't even shed a single tear.

I nod my head and make my way to him and we intertwine our hands as we leave my room.

All eyes turn to us when we reach the dinner table.