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chapter thirty-two

The rest of the day went by way too quickly.

It didn't even seem like we did much, so it actually should feel like the day had been long, but it seriously wasn't.

It felt like hours were robbed and even though I wanted them so badly – knowing that once I'm back to college I will probably not have this at all – I knew there is nothing I could do about it.

Still, it was nice. We played chess (which probably took up most of the time), watched a documentary about climate change (just because I felt like it), I let Clay and Nick talk about their recording from before (I didn't tell Clay about the repeated weird encounter with Nick from this morning, plus I considered it settled as Nick joined us in the living room, talking as normal as possible, even though I noticed that he purposely didn't look at me that much) and for the evening we decided to order some pizza (as we didn't feel like cooking this time).

The day, even though it went by so quickly, felt relaxed, good. There was not much on my mind, I felt free from all the stress, my family, my worries. I just felt free.

Especially now. I mean, it can surely also be a bit of the wine I let myself have before and I know that wine has this soothing effect on me – but it has not been the activator of this feeling.

I'm alone with Clay in the living room right now.

Nick left us after we ate our pizza. He actually finished his quite quickly and I really hoped that it didn't have anything to do with me, or more specifically our encounter.

But the second Clay put on some music and dimmed the lights in the room, I forgot anything that concerned me again – and I was back to feeling relaxed and free.

"The music is great", I mumble, my voice only silent as I already feel kind of tired, which I think comes from being so relaxed.

It's a slow rhythm and it feels like a song that is connected to a memory of myself, even if I can't tell which memory that would be... Maybe one that is still waiting for it to be made.

We're lying on the couch again – very similar to the last time we've been here. I'm leaned against Clay and his arm is halfway around me – only this time we're not looking at the TV. I actually don't know where we're looking at. I might be focused on the ceiling, but that's not really where I am looking at. My eyes are just there, but I'm feeling like I'm somewhere entirely different – somewhere I am supposed to be... in my mind.

"Yeah", Clay answers me and I feel like he would be looking in my eyes right now if he could – I know I would.

But it's fine like this as well. The fact that I'm leaned against his body makes up for the lack of being able to see his face right now. And I can see it anyways – even if it's just in my mind. But it's there.

We go back to being silent like before.

I normally don't like silences. I feel like I can make every situation less uncomfortable by talking – so that's what I also usually do. It works.

But right now, I don't feel like I have to be speaking – at all. It feels just right like it is. The silence is one of the few, which feel like they are supposed to be there.

I think, I'm already way too tired to stress myself about the fact, that I let the word 'suppose' interfere with my vocabulary. I don't like to use that word. I don't believe in that 'it's supposed to be'-crap. But... why does it feel like that then?

I don't know how long we really stayed silent, but as Clay speaks up again and I feel his chest moving under me as he talks, I feel like I already dozed off a bit. "You wanna dance?"