Dead Hearts

Chapter 4 - Rooftops and Courage

Chapter 4

Mara

Then

We stared at each other, me willing words out of his mouth, him frozen and wide-eyed.

“Hello to you too, Aiden.”

He kept staring.

“Seriously, dude. What is up with you and manners?” I asked him, checking him out discreetly.

“Upstairs,” he said simply.

“Wait- I’d like to have a drink or something. I’m thirsty.” I didn’t even know what made me not argue his whole “upstairs” thing, I just really wanted some water in my system before whatever happened next. With Aiden, somehow I’d expected it.

“Sure then. Let’s go.” He replied shortly.

We headed straight for the kitchen, he turning to me with a beer in hand, his face a question mark.

I shook my head, pointing to a water bottle instead.

He raised his left, imperfect eyebrow, handing the bottle to me. His finger sort of did this little intertwining thing with my pinkie, and I could’ve sworn my whole breathing pattern was altered for the rest of my life.

The little douche bag just smiled wickedly.

And so there we stood, on the roof of the massive house, staring at nothing, and everything at the same time. It was a fairly cloudy night, and the stars weren’t raining on us. There wasn’t a flying star. Just an airplane flying over the horizon, its tails glowing, the small, red flickering lights contrasting the dark sky.

Aiden spoke first.

“It kind of sucks a lot.”

“Hmm?” I replied, not really paying attention.

“You know, how 99.9% of life is a waste of time,” I turned to look at him, finally, and he continued.

“I mean, we spend our lives with shitty people and excuses and endless amounts of time, and we waste away with routine and just being the expected- we waste away with not saying things we should have said, loving the wrong people, liking things because everyone else does, even wearing things we don’t even like because it’s the right thing- and it sucks.”

I stayed silent, waiting for his main point. Aiden always had a point, that much I could tell so far.

“Yet we, the human race, insist on trying- because that 0.1% of life is worth it. And maybe it is. It’s made up of golden moments, right? Good moments. Moments when you wish you could just, you know, breathe in a little.”

In that moment, I swear I thought he was kidding.

Because that was all I had ever thought.

He smiled at me then, a sad smile. I could tell his eyes didn’t sparkle, and his hair was sticking in every direction, and I thought that, perhaps, he was drunk.

I smiled back at him, and he reached for my cheek.

I stopped breathing. I felt like the wind was whipped out from me.

His hand was soft. I was tired, and I felt uncomfortable downstairs, so why deny myself the simple privilege of his touch? It seemed crazy to pass that opportunity up. It was stupid, and it was spontaneous, at least on my part- but I met him halfway anyway, thinking that I was on a diet, and he looked so good, and it was so nice to stand there and just watch the world keep moving. So I reached out, closing the spaces in between us, meeting his lips, and kissed him, and he kissed me back.