We’re still curled together in her bed. I’m not sure if she’s awake or asleep or lost somewhere in-between, but her breathing is deliciously deep and slow. We’ve been here for hours. Hours and hours, racing away from us. Time doesn’t work anymore. Or maybe it just doesn’t work here. Here in our own little world, lost beneath the sheets. I like to think about the rest of the bustling world, all moving and breathing and running around senseless. Eyes flitting from grey concrete to grey sky. Never pausing to notice the fact that the sky was not grey, but the palest blue, like diluted watercolour paints. And the concrete was splattered with dark raindrops and drops of oil. Each speck of liquid reflecting all the colours of the rainbow back into world-weary eyes. But together, here, when we’re alone and silent, time moves differently. One second I’m minutely aware that each and every of Cheryl’s breaths takes a lifetime, and I can almost hear her lungs screaming in pain. And the next, hours have passed and I’m flitting in and out of consciousness, vaguely aware that Cheryl might be talking to me softly. Or maybe a voice in my head has adopted her voice, because I can hear her, oh god I can hear her. Lacing through my half-formed dreams, twisting up my mind.
But now I blink away the sleep clouding my vision. And I rest my chin against the top of her head, her dark curls tickling sharply at my skin. I smell like her skin. Or maybe she smells like me. I’m not really sure anymore. We’re so close, her head on my chest, my legs tangled up with hers. Just a jumble of limbs and skin. That’s all we are in the end. Contracting muscles and fragile bones and skin.
And I watch the sun outside her bedroom window sink lower and lower over the curving dark mass of the roofs. Throwing tall shadows across her bedroom, and I watch as they creep closer towards us until we’re curled together like an island in the sea, the shadows lapping at Cheryl’s toes. And now the square of sky I can see through her grimy bedroom window is a bloodshot pink, veins of red running through the sky. I can feel her breathing. Feel her heart beating. I don’t think I’ve ever been this close to someone before. Sometime, hours before, she’d pulled off my hoodie, and pulled off my t-shirt too. And kissed me gently. And I’d not said a word, but silently I’d gently pulled her white vest over her head too. Disrupting her curls. Making them tumble across her chest. Leaving her in a black bra and skin. Nothing but skin between us. And it felt so good, so right. With her hands on my skin, her touch caressing, light. Painfully, excruciatingly innocent, until it tore my heart up into shreds. And, silently, I’d kissed her right back. Until my lips were numb and she’d tangled her hands in my hair. I kissed her until she was murmuring to me in words I barely recognised. Blurred and slurred by numb lips and slow kisses. But I did recognise them, of course I did. And she repeated them again and again and again and again until they were ringing in my ears like a hallowed chant.
“I-love-you-oh-god-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-”
And I didn’t say a thing. Because I couldn’t breathe. And when she did finally tear her lips away from mine, I had to bite back the burning lump of tears threatening to overcome me. And she smiles softly, chewing on my bottom lip. And then cuddles me tighter. Resting her head on my chest once again. As though nothing had changed.
And nothing had changed, the world hadn’t blown apart, the skies and the seas hadn’t torn in two. But everything inside me had. It was all glowing. All of me, lighting up like a neon glow radiating from a fragile plastic tube. As though she’d flicked on a switch.
And now? Now maybe she’s sleeping. Or maybe she’s not. Somewhere far below us a door slams, leaving thick wooden panels shaking.
“Chez? You home pet?” A voice calls from downstairs. And Cheryl’s body stiffens in my arms, I can feel her muscles tense, shaking. Her head shoots up. Her eyes flash open.
“sh!t! That’s me mam, oh god-” She murmurs through her teeth, her breath hissing in her mouth. I run a hand through her hair, brushing it quickly out of her face. “Get up, come here-” And she’s up, out of bed. Pulling on jeans as she throws my shirt and hoodie towards me. I don’t pause to think, I don’t pause to breathe. I just pull them on, my still-damp hoodie clinging to my body.
“Cheryl? Are you okay?” The voice is closer now, hovering around the foot of the stairs.
“Fcuk-” Cheryl’s swearing through her teeth, curses falling off her tongue, falling over each other until they become just a jumble of panic-laced syllables with no meaning.
“Shh, it’s okay-” I mumble, struggling into my jeans as Cheryl shouts down the stairs.
“Yeah, I’m alright mam, I’ll be down in one minuite-” she calls. And then her face cracks into a smile, and she grins at me, dimples crushing over her skin. I button my jeans. She holds her hand out to me, and I take it instinctively, holding her palm close.
“Cheryl-” I murmur, taking a step away from her, trying to detangle her hand from around my own. “Cheryl, babe, your mam’ll see-”
“I don’t give a toss” she whispers to me. And then she opens her bedroom door, walking down the stairs slowly. As she leads me down into the shadows of the hallway, I wonder if her ribs still cut pain across her chest with every step she takes. But I try not to think about that.
“Oh, hi, you’re Kimberley aren’t you pet?” Her mam is tiny with dark hair just like Cheryl’s. We hover in the shadows, halfway down the stairs. Cheryl leans against the flowered pattered wallpaper, with rough shapes and ridges in the paper. I imagine them tracing tiny red marks onto her skin as they press gently into her finely toned back.
“Yeah, nice to meet you” I smile, shyly. I can feel Cheryl’s palm burning onto my own, as though her skin is blistering me. I move my hand slightly. Self-consciously. I glance at the floor.
“It’s nice, you coming to see our lass like, when she’s not well. You’ve been lookin’ after our little Cheryl?”
“Umm, yeah-”
“Chez, have you seen our Garry? Did he come home at all today?”
“No.”
“Has he called?”
“No. I’m sorry mam-” I can hear something tight inside Cheryl’s throat. I wonder where her brother is. And at the same time, maybe I don’t want to know.
Cheryl’s mam just sighs. A long-suffering, tired sigh. “Okay. You be good then. Don’t be out too late, sleeping’ll make your ribs better-”
“Yeah, we’ll be good. We’re going out now, I’ll see yous later, yeah?” Cheryl’s pushing past her, skipping down the stairs. And I follow her.
“Nice to meet you-” I murmur as we leave. Cheryl’s mam barely has time to shoot me a smile before Cheryl has firmly shut the door behind us. And Cheryl’s pulling me down the two stone steps leading to the broken paving slabs. And we hurry over them.
“Sorry, about my mam, it’s like NHS Tweedy down here. “Sleeping’ll make your ribs better”-?” Cheryl laughs. Leading me out of the rickety front gate and down the grainy tarmac path. And Cheryl smiles. Swinging my hand in hers. And she rests her head on my shoulder as we walk. Her hair mixing with my own, falling down my back. Ebony darkness and my pale, almost blonde hair mixing, twisting, falling together. I glance down at her, her eyes half closed as we walk, a smile still hovering on her lips.
“You okay Cheryl?” I whisper to her. And she glances up at me. Her eyes flickering over my face. And then she bites her lip hard.
“I’m happy Kimberley. You make me really, really happy” she murmurs up at me. So, so seriously, as though she means every single syllable. And maybe she does. I hope she does.
“Me too. I mean, you make me really happy too.” I smile at her. And she smiles back up at me. Kissing my jawline. Making my chest erupt into tiny butterflies, as though she’s never kissed me before, as though this is the very first time again.
And we step out into the twilight evening. Together. Into a city that was bathed in golden light. Together, under a sky that blushed pink just for us.
