Langour ・❥・Joost Klein・❥・

23.

The sound of a zippo cap flipping open made Fenne look to her right. She watched Joost light up a cigarette with last year's birthday present. He did it all with one hand, keeping his other unmoving from Fenne's hold.

'Shit...' Joost sighed, exhaling the smoke in relief and anxiety. He needed something to clear the weight on his chest, but the cigarette's after-effect made him feel awful.

'Is it a tradition to smoke when you visit?' Fenne asked and Joost breathed a laugh.

'I guess so. I can't remember a time when I wasn't here feeling disgusting.'

Fenne snickered humourlessly. She looked at the plaque that was etched with Joost's father's name. Part of his ashes had been cemented into the structure, while the rest was split between his three children. The same was for Joost's mother. Fenne turned to look at the identical plaque behind them, which made her fingers tug out of Joost's hold.

He didn't budge at first and left his smoking cigarette down by his side. But with a gentle pull, Fenne was able to face Joost's mother's plaque and wake him from his moment of rigid silence. He took a drag and turned away from his father, his feet heavy in their shuffle.

'Mum didn't like smokers,' he mumbled. 'I always think about if she'd be upset at me.'

'All mums are like that.'

'She would have liked you.'

Clenching her jaw, Fenne looked to Joost with raised eyebrows. His eyes were fixated on the plaque and his slow blinks stopped the glaze that would result in tears. Fenne hoped that she wouldn't see Joost cry. She wasn't sure if she would be able to stop herself from doing the same, as seeing his blue eyes red would be like seeing an angel fall.

'You think so?' she managed, her voice just above a whisper.

'She was gentle, like you. Kind... always knew what to say. You two would have really hit it off,' a strained scoff sounded from Joost's throat. 'And Dad would ask what I did to get someone like you. Probably would have thought we were pulling some prank.'

'Don't put yourself down like that, Joost. They would have seen so much in you.'

Blowing out the last puff of smoke, he turned to the girl beside him. Fenne's eyes gazed with care but a stubborn seriousness. She was someone who never said something without honesty. Her green eyes looked nowhere else but him and whether it was his vulnerability, or the spell Fenne had over him, Joost believed her.

How Joost wished Fenne could have met them. He knew his mother would be pleased to know that someone with her kindness and comforting touch was taking care of him. His father would want his son to keep someone like Fenne happy. He would tell Joost to never let her go and never miss the small things. Both of his parents would want their son to treasure every moment, because life didn't always work out the way he wanted it to. They wanted him cared for, safe, and healed from their passing.

A sniffle made Fenne's bottom lip wobble. Joost's cigarette was forgotten on the floor, the lit end dying on its own. She stepped around the boy to confirm her suspicions. She saw through his hand that wiped from the bridge of his nose to the delicate skin under his eyes. His cheeks were wet and when he pulled his hand away, Fenne caught the redness around his blue irises.

'Oh, Joost...' Fenne wrapped her arms around his shoulders with a ball in her throat. He didn't waste any time in burying his face into his own hoodie and locked Fenne into his hold.

She thought she would feel a wetness seep through her shirt, but nothing ever came. Joost remained in her shoulder and Fenne remained on her toes. They stood in the wind that was beginning to grow, the afternoon plunging into evening earlier than expected. But Fenne was set on staying for as long as Joost needed to.