August 16 [c.l & p.g]

𝐭𝐰𝐨

┌────────────┐
waiting til the time is
right, when I see him, I
just know I have to go
└────────────┘

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 ˖*°࿐

𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟐𝐧𝐝.

When I was a boy, I fell in love with someone I shouldn't have. But she was perfect for me in every way, how could I not?

Although Lovelle had never been mine, I couldn't help myself.

Her smile had my thirteen year old heart tripping over itself. I did anything I could to make her smile, more so, I became a fool to hear that laugh. It was a sound like no other; the melody dripped with honey and burst to life like sunlight's waking breath. But when it turned into a breathless wheeze I knew had her stomach in aching knots? That was my favourite sound. And I'd do anything to hear Lovelle laugh like that again.

From the moment I held her on the platform, I felt the emptiness within her. The light she used to radiate without a second thought was gone. Replaced by heavy, dark circles beneath her eyes. Eyes that once glittered like jade were now dull and muted. I wanted to see the spattering of freckles she always sprouted in the midst of summer. I longed to see red blooming across her cheeks because she'd forgotten to reapply sunscreen, rather than this pale frame who looked like she hadn't touched sunlight in months.

But that didn't mean I was any less hopelessly, foolishly in love.

I needed to fix it, and if doing so meant I'd need to play with a little fire, then so be it. I'd do anything for her. Lovelle needed her light. She wasn't the same without it.

"Where do you want these?"

Pierre's voice cracked through our silent, autonomous tasks like the first thunderstorm of the season. He looked down at me with questioning eyes. Had I never truly taken note of the deep sapphire tone of them? His eyes looked expensive.

"Charles?"

His voice was softer this time; though maybe that was only because I was paying attention to him now.

Pierre gestured the stack of plates he'd just unloaded from the dishwasher.

"Sorry," I said, though it was a barely audible grumble, "In here, thanks." I held a cabinet open for him, and I returned to packaging the uneaten food to keep in the fridge.

Some of this might need to be frozen, I wasn't sure how long they'd keep. It wasn't worth throwing any of it out though. Lovelle was here now and these were her favourites. I wasn't entirely sure what she'd want to eat first. Most of the tiramisu was gone, so the few pieces left could stay in the fridge. But as for the abundance of pasta that remained-

My right shoulder flared, but the hand wrapped around me and suddenly I was being soothed with the firm circles it was making.

"What's going on with you?" Pierre asked.

His eyes had a strange gleam.

"What are you talking about?" I tried my best to continue the mindless task.

"You're in your head." Pierre emphasised his statement by tapping a finger to my temple gently.

"I'm just thinking about what we're going to do with all this food."

At least it wasn't a lie.

Pierre laughed heartily; I loved that sound as well. I'd grown up with it the same way I had Lovelle's.