Timeless - Connor Dewar

three - amelia

7 years ago

Staring at the ceiling, I let my mind drift aimlessly, the cool darkness of my room cocooning me after a day like this. The soft, white plaster is speckled with tiny imperfections, each one a tiny constellation in my personal night sky. My mind races, each thought tumbling over the last, making me more anxious about the future than ever. Who am I going to be? No, who do I want to be? What's my goal?

The truthful answer is, I don't really know anything. All I do know is that I'm jetting off to Toronto in September to get my bachelor's, and that simply feels unreal. Away from my family, my friends, this house... I can't fathom it yet, but now that I've officially graduated, it's as fast approaching as ever.

Okay, I'm spiraling. I turn over in bed, the cool sheets rustling beneath me as I reach for my phone to text Connor for peace of mind. But then I hear a thud against my window.

Startled by the noise, I quickly sit up, my heart pounding in my chest. The moonlight filters through the blinds, casting eerie, elongated shadows that dance across my room like specters. Another soft thud follows, and I slowly approach the window, the floorboards creaking beneath my feet. Drawing back the curtain, I see a hand gripping the windowsill, fingers tense and white with effort.

Okay, what the fuck? Am I about to get murdered? Cautiously, I peek over it to see a head of messy brown hair, and almost simultaneously, Connor pulls himself up, his biceps flexing slightly as he tries to keep himself from falling.

"Connor? What are you doing here?" I whisper, my heart racing as I unlock the window and slide it open.

He grins sheepishly through his struggle, his breath coming out in short puffs from the effort of climbing. "Surprise," he says, his voice barely audible over the night breeze. "Can I come in?"

I step back, allowing him to swing his legs over the windowsill and clumsily land on the carpeted floor of my room. "You could've just used the front door, you know," I say, trying to hide the warmth spreading through my chest at the sight of him.

Connor stands up straight, kicking off his shoes and placing them neatly beside the window before turning to face me again. He's wearing a navy blue t-shirt and gray sweatshorts, and the height difference between us is now very much noticeable. He's not the tallest guy on earth, but I would consider myself 'short', and so would he.

"It's past midnight," he offers as reason, and when I raise a brow at him he continues, "And... wouldn't your parents get weird about me being in your room with you alone? Especially this late."

I swallow as I feel a blush creep up my neck at his words. He's not wrong; ever since we were about 15, my parents have had an 'open door' policy when he came over. We always protested, because we always made sure they knew we were just friends, but it was firm.

"True," I concede, trying to sound nonchalant. "But you scaling my window like Spider-Man isn't exactly inconspicuous."

Connor chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. "Hey, I had to make it exciting, right?"

I can't help but smile back at him. It's been a rough night, feeling overlooked and forgotten at my own graduation party paired with doubts about the future, but having Connor show up like this... it's unexpectedly comforting, like a scene out of a rom-com. "So, why are you here again?" I remark, sitting down at the foot of my bed.

Connor's smile fades as he runs a hand through his tousled hair. "I couldn't sleep, I wanted to see you..." He trails off, fumbling with his fingers nervously, "I... I'm scared, Mia."

"Scared? What do you mean?" I ask, my voice softening as I look up at him. Connor rarely opens up like this, so I know whatever he's about to say must be weighing heavily on him.