Crystallized, The xx
23: Wilhelm
June 3rd. It was my birthday.
Normally, I suppose August would've thrown a phenomenal party in the abandoned building for the occasion. But he wasn't there, so it was up to Vincent to brew something up for tonight.
Simon had stayed the night in my dorm on friday. Now it was well past 11am, and we were still tangled in my bedsheets.
Kissing and hugging, pitching in and out of slumber. Blinds were shut, but sunlight still beaded past the navy fabric, casting a sapphire blue across my dorm, and the window was inched open just enough to welcome in the summer's breaths. There were some songs from Simon's playlist humming from speakers across my room, drowning out the world of chattering students outside in the Forest Ridge garden.
"Happy birthday," he murmured against my lips, and I smiled into our kiss because I didn't know he'd learned my birthday.
I could've done this all day, I mused. Kiss him and feel his body rock until the sun fell behind the hills and the crickets started to sing, skipping every meal and Vincent's stupid party.
Today, time felt a little nostalgic. The moment hadn't even passed, and I already felt it slipping through my fingers.
I pressed my lips to his jaw and wondered about him. I wondered what cosmic force had drawn him to me that night, pushed him to kiss me. Was it that thrill of adrenaline that I knew he felt, too; that feeling that, once vanished, always made me want to come crawling back for more?
We did this for another half hour; we made out, and we had sex, and then we made out again.
A few songs passed by on the stereo. Sex and Heart Out by The 1975, downtown by Lil Peep, then Arabella by Arctic Monkeys...
It's Crystalized that was playing now, right? Crystalized by The xx, reverberating in our embrace.
I can't say the thrill was entirely gone, I'd be lying, but the passion was duller, less sensible. It was more a search for ecstasy than it was for intimacy or exchange.
Things have gotten closer to the sun, and I've done things in small doses
I guess there was an irony in our way of always coming back to one another beyond all expectations. Every touch made me resent every second we'd spent apart and want to compensate for all of them.
So don't say I'm pushing you away when you're the one that I've kept closest
Ay, ay, ay
Some might say that we weren't good for each other, that we clung to one another too tightly.
You don't move slow,
I'm taking steps in my direction
We were much different than we were last fall, I'll say it candidly.
The sound resounds,
does it lessen your affection?
Breaking away from our kiss, I gazed down at him, his mouth bitten flushed, his curls messed-up and sprawled out on the pillow case, and I thought he still looked ineffably beautiful. I swear it, those big, lascivious eyes would always make me go insane. His eyebrows scrunched slightly when I didn't lean back in for another kiss.
"Simon," I whispered, grazing on his temple, stray curls tickling the end of my fingers, "should we talk?"
He gawked at me, perplex. "Talk about what?"
YOU ARE READING
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧, young royals
FanfictionA continuation of the series after season 2. "But I was the fool, the hopeless, the insouciant, the reckless, and he was my hanged man, my undoing, my sacrifice, my learned lesson."
