The Walter Boys Assistant

Chapter 16: The Gift

Where did he have the time to do this? Your eyes dart, always finding something new to look at. Before you, the other side of the pillar stands, but it is no longer bare. He stripped it of its plainness and covered it with memories.

Memories of the past that haven't surfaced to your mind for a few days with all of the discord ensued between the two of you. So many miniature photographs are mantled in place. You find they go as tall as your own height.

A larger picture is in line with your eyes, drawing your focus directly to it. One of your favorite pictures of you and Alex from roughly two years ago. An age where there was no Paige or Jackie. It was an era of (Y/n) and Alex - one you miss so dearly, it crushes you.

This photo is from middle school graduation. You are wearing a simple white dress designed with off-shoulder, short sleeves. A pattern of tiny blue flowers adorns the fabric. Your hair has been done into a singular Dutch braid, a beautiful homage to your Hunger Games obsessive era.

Taking notice of the light pink lipgloss shimmering on your lips, complimenting the darker pink brushed across your eyelids, you realize this was the first time you wore makeup for anything. A hint of pride hits your chest as you see how decent it looked.

Alex is there in the picture, his arms wrapped around your stomach, head resting atop your shoulder. Even though most of his torso and chest is covered standing behind you, it's easy to remember the deep blue button-up shirt he wore that day. You loved that shirt on him.

"Alex... What is all of this?" You question, reaching your hand out and brush your fingertips against the photo. So many photos of you two together. Others mixed in with Kylie, with his family, your own family... it was a beautiful homage to your lives.

"This is (Y/n)'s pillar. I realized when you saw Jackie's name... well, when I said some dumb things... I realized that not having you up here is an insult." Alex expresses directly behind you. Your eyes are unable to leave the sight of the pillar. The inside of your nose stings, tears threatening their way to your eyes. "There would be no Loft without you. No pillar."

"Alex." The break in your voice is frail while you turn to find him right there. Alex looks over you, eyebrows and nose scrunching together with concern.

"Did I upset you again? I didn't mean-" He begins to panic, fearing the worst. You are able to shut it down by throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him close into a hug. His arms go around your waist, drawing you in closer.

A strong rush of teakwood with hints of vanilla strikes your nose as soon as you bury your face into his shirt. You love how he smelt, always had. Anything that smelt like Alex sent you home.

The touch of his hands flattened out against your back gives a warmth of security. His hugs are the best and never get old. They are what you would imagine a hug with Peter Parker would be like. Sincere, earnest, whole-heartedly invested.

When a few moments roll by, you pull back and meet his gaze. His eyes are glistening honey pools. With his constellation of imperfect freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose and cheeks, they only pronounce those pools more.

Your soul has yet to adapt to swimming efficiently - it drowns with each stolen dip in those pools.

You refuse to allow yourself to overthink this moment. So when you discover this is a chance, you lean closer. Your lips plant against his cheek. It's short, delicate; but unforgettable. The touch of his smooth skin against your lips sends butterflies erupting from your belly, fluttering through your chest. They end up disrupting your heart, causing it to flip in place numerous times.

Taking that moment of courage was easier than you thought. You steal another bit of that same courage to meet his eyes one more time. It almost looks like he's blushing, but that couldn't be. It was probably there from training earlier and you just hadn't noticed it.