Everything under the sun

Chapter One

In the golden hours of the morning, when the dew on the grass has settled in, and the birds sing through the open air, I lay restless in bed. Having not slept the night before, I can't imagine myself moving from under my covers for the remainder of the day. I turn to my other side, letting the glow of the sunrise pour onto my skin in warm rays.

After what seems like hours— in reality, it hadn't even been a minute— I sink under my blankets. If I let them take me, I'll be able to sleep, and the thoughts of him would cease to exist. Well, until I wake up again, that is. Though, I have to remind myself that he appears in my dreams as well. Everywhere I look is a reminder of him. Him.

What use is there in trying to escape? I had done this all for so long that I knew there wasn't one, yet I hold out hope in the event that my feelings will burn away in unforgiving embers. Embers that could be washed away with the sea foam in his eyes. Stop it. I shake the thoughts away. Rather, I try to. Still, they seep in through the cracks of my mind.

7:02 A.M.

He's still asleep— soundly I hope— and here I am, completely infatuated with him. With his golden hair and sea-like eyes. The glow of his skin and the mole on his neck. I imagine myself floating on a raft that drifts through the whole of his eyes. It's not possible, but I dream. My phone hums with a notification. I check it immediately, like a dog waiting for its man to return from the store. Sure enough, it's his name painted across the screen.

Good morning :)

It's so simple, yet my heart flutters.

Morning, Ash

I can feel the heavy weight of my eyes as I watch the three dots dance in response.

I'll come by to pick you up for class, does eight work?

Sure, see you then

Ash and I attend the same university under different majors. His classes start earlier than mine do, but he insists on walking to class together. I have no license to complain, I enjoy the walks in the early morning with him. He tells me about the dream he's had, I listen thoughtfully. I buy us coffee on the way, and he whines about wanting to pay me back— of course, I'll never let him, but if I tell him that, he'll have a fit.

I roll out of bed, throwing together an outfit to put on after I've had my shower. The usual dress pants and sweater combo is the most basic thing I can muster. I'll feel better after my shower, I tell myself. I know I'm lying to myself, but even so, it takes the edge off of my chest.

•••

The autumn air is frigid at this hour. I shiver as we walk, having greatly underestimated the weather. I figured it would be warmer by the time I stepped outside. "Cold?" Ash asks. I nod, rubbing my hands together while blowing my warm breath on them. Ash sighs and takes his heavier coat off, draping it around my shoulders. "I was getting warm, anyway." I grip the edges of the coat, feeling my stomach flip.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Taking your jacket." Ash laughs, as he does most of the time when I apologise for seemingly to reason. There's always a reason to me, he doesn't understand that, though. He links his arm with mine, forcing me to keep up with his pace.

"I offered it to you, silly. Don't apologise." With that, he goes on about his dream. I can't hear him over the drumming of my heart in my ears. It pounds like heavy fists on a fragile door. His arm around mine, a simple touch, yet it's driving me crazy. I don't want anything more than this. I'm not even sure I'd want something as in-complex as a hug. I want this to last a lifetime. His arm in mine. Our arms together. The moment feels short-lived when Ash wakes me from my trance. "I'll meet you back here for lunch. Text me when you get to class so I know you've made it safely." With a warm smile, he ruffles my hair and spins on his heel. He's on his way to class before I've had a chance to process what's just happened.

I make my way inside to a common area where I pull out a book to pass time. I can't get past the first line before my mine is engulfed in thoughts of him. Why did he hold my arm? Did that mean anything? He does this with all of his friends, why do I think I'm different? I groan in the quietness of the space. It's frustrating, never knowing what he means. The things he says when he isn't all there, or when you can't tell if he's really flirting with you or if it's the "friendly flirting" he's so used to.

I'm a puppet on a string to him, whether he knows it or not, and I have no intention of getting free. Maybe that'll be my downfall. Being the puppet to a boy like Ash. A sweet, yet daunting boy. At some point, in the last year, I've convinced myself there may be a possibility of us. The slightest sliver of hope that he'll tell me under the moonlight like a romantic movie. I know it won't happen, not that way, and not ever. Still, a boy is allowed to dream, isn't he?

I put away the unread book, deciding to get to class a bit early. Maybe when I get there, he won't be in every corner of my mind, or everywhere I turn. I shuffle through the glass halls until I reach the lecture hall. As I open the doors, I see a nightmare bloom before my eyes.