just us

a/n

to make some things clear:

- it's the last summer after high school (i.e. about to enter university)

- based in canada which is basically the us but it doesn't really matter

- reader is gender neutral (let me know if something seems off)

- we don't know Connie in this one

i also got some songs which i thought fit the mood based on what was playing as i wrote. the songs will be indicated (==) in the writing. here's the queue:

- dream, ivory; dream, ivory

- heart to heart; mac demarco

- little person; matt maltese

- cry; cigarettes after sex

- everything; the black skirts 

if you're on iphone, i recommend doing the rain sounds when it rains, but it's up to you.

without further ado ♥

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

== dream, ivory

The rock I've been kicking skids off the edge of the sidewalk, into the dark grass. I already miss the feeling of its bump against my foot. I'm going to miss a lot of things. Even before I finish the thought the familiar feeling of dread rises up from the depths of my gut.

Shush.

Jean's face is illuminated harshly directly below the streetlight, hair glowing as if powdered in some otherworldly dust, shadows hard and soft defining and redefining themselves as we walk. Aimless wandering, that's all we're doing, but I'd rather be doing this than anything else. I'd rather be with him.

I almost miss the signature little smirk on his face mid-head turn but double take in time to see it grow.

"What? You like what you see?"

Well, yeah.

But I stick the side of my finger against his teeth and he squirms. "Wh— hey! What was that?" There's a chuckle between those words, though, and it makes me want to crack open like a stupid little egg and pour out all the feelings I have for him onto this very concrete, cover it with my devotion, stain it forever and ever. But all that comes out is a laugh and that'll have to be enough.

"You're annoying, you know that?"

"I was just asking you an honest question!" He holds up his hand as if preaching. "Honest to god, hand on the bible."

Okay, Jean. "And if I said no?"

He has the nerve to look offended. "Then I'd know you're lying."

"Fff," I huff, and I have to turn away because the grin on my face is at a dangerous level. "This boy. You're too full of yourself."

"Mmm-hmm," Jean says smugly. "But you like me that way, don't you?" His arm hooks my waist to pull me closer and I do the same, gripping the back of his Stohess University hoodie. At this point this position is second nature — no more awkward touching or not-so-subtle shifting. Now we're like... two stones in a river that just happen to fit together like pieces of a puzzle. That's right, us, the walking pebbles, down the dark streets of 3 AM that would be scary under any other circumstance.

Happy as can be.

Until summer ends, at least.

Sometimes I want to rip that hoodie off him and tear it into a million pieces, destroy the place that wants to take him from me so badly. But it makes him happy. It makes him really fucking happy. And who am I to take that away from him?