The Deep End ✔️

14 - limits of language

not me almost forgetting
to update hehe
happy monday!

—

We weren't speaking. He sat beside me on the bench and we both stared out onto Erick's snow-covered lawn. I kept watching the clouds our breaths would make intermingling, disappearing into the air together as one.

There was nothing to say. We both knew what we needed from each other which neither could provide. I wanted to keep him safe from the demons I hid beneath my skin and he wanted to face them head on with his sword drawn. He wanted me, fully and completely, and I was hardly my own to give.

"I have so much to say but none of it makes sense," Dallas said. "You . . ."

He didn't finish whatever thought he began. I didn't blame him. "I'm sorry," was all I could say, though I didn't know what for. Dallas just let out a deep breath, the translucent white puff tumbling past his lips like an avalanche. I craved his arms around me, shielding me from the cold, as I shivered into the night.

"I have something for you." I glanced over and he was reaching into his jeans pocket. "I don't know if it's appropriate to give you a Christmas present considering the circumstances, but . . . I saw it and thought of you."

Dallas handed over a small gift wrapped box. I took it between my fingers, turning it hesitantly. Did he expect me to open it right now? One look at his face, his beautiful face, and I figured he did. My fingers trembled, frozen and rigid, as I tore the paper off strip by strip. Inside the box, on top of some faux velvet padding, was a silver chain with a single pendant, silver with blue and gold accents flecked in. It was in the shape of ocean waves, three curvy consecutive crests. I stared at it with a mix of confusion and indifference.

"That isn't saying much because everything makes me think of you," Dallas said, clearly frustrated by the idea. "I got that for you back in Florida. It's from some company that supposedly uses its proceeds for cleaning up the ocean, but honestly, it was probably a scam—"

"Why would you give me this?" I asked.

He looked down at the necklace and then back up to my face. "Well, I . . . I don't know. It was just sitting in my dresser drawer and I . . . I couldn't get rid of it," he said, his voice low. I sighed. "Shelby didn't go home because she was sick. I— I got into it with her when I saw her talking to you."

"That's all the more reason not to give me a fucking present, Dallas," I snapped, closing the box and setting it between us on the bench. "All she said was she didn't care about our past and that there were no hard feelings. Can you say the same?"

"Can you?"

I clamped my mouth shut. He sighed and faced forward once again. I was shivering profusely since I hadn't grabbed a jacket on my way out, but I couldn't bring myself to go inside. Dallas was cold, too, and it would be so easy to just scoot over and share body heat. Easy, but stupid. I was getting used to making stupid decisions with him.

"The ball's been in your court, Thomas," he said after a silent few minutes. Or maybe it was only a few seconds. "I've been yours since that summer. I've wanted you since that summer. Say the word and I'll make it happen."

I looked over at him and his big blue eyes looked navy in the moonlight. The sight of his face was enough to cause an earthquake under our feet. My heart trembled. "You know I can't."

"Why?" he asked, standing up from the bench and running his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. "Do you just not want to be with me? Or you're just too worried about my career to face the fact that I love you? Make it make sense."