GAGE

31| w i t h y o u

"Oh my god." I chuckle staring in front of me.

"What?" Gage smirks.

"Nothing it's just, it's weird." I smile.

"What's weird?" He looks at me.

"That we're back. The first time you took me here, it just seems like so long ago."

It's the building Gage had taken me to before we played our unorthodox game of truth or dare.

"I'm not walking up those stairs in these shoes." I say reaching for the zipper on the side of the boots.

Before I know what's happening, Gage swoops his arm under my legs and picks me up bridal style, "What the hell are you doing?" I put arm over his shoulder.

"Carrying you." Gage says obviously.

"I could've just taken my shoes off." I smile and he begins walking.

"That would be unnecessary."

I giggle lightly and as he takes me up the steps.

"It looks even more beautiful this time." I say when we get to the roof.

Gage stays silent.

I turn around and I smile at him when our eyes connect.

He looks down before looking back up and grins.

He's so cute.

"What?" I squint, still smiling.

He just shakes his head.

"Gage, stop being weird. I feel like you're gonna push me over the edge and kill me like the old days... which aren't really old, but still." I advert my stare to the sky.

He walks behind me and pulls me by my waist into his chest. I turn around and wrap my arms around his torso, burying my head into his chest.

I inhale the faint scent of cologne he's wearing and sway my body. Gage stands uncomfortably in front of me.

"Don't be weird. Again." I pull away from the boy.

"Um, I'm not." He stammers.

I try to fight my smile, but an army of giggles break out. I clasp my hands together and tilt my head up. When I open my eyes Gage is smirking.

"What?" We both say at the same time, causing us both to laugh which is weird because I rarely see Gage laughing- chuckles don't count.

"Stop." I say while walking to the other side of the roof.

"Stop what?" He follows me.

"You look really hot in that suit." I say randomly, turning around. "Sexy even." I bite the air and smirk.

"Are you drunk?" Gage teases.

I flip my long hair over my shoulder and smile, "It feels like it."

"God, it's so cold." I pout.

I look at the view on this side of the building, "It's not as pretty as the other side." I observe as Gage tosses me his jacket.

I slip it over my shoulders and subconsciously hum an unknown song that's been stuck in my head all day.

I buckle my knees to the melody.

"What are you doing?" Gage asks. It seems like that question has been asked a million times tonight.

"I'm singing?" I don't really know what I'm doing.

"Well, you're not very good." He jokes.

I stick my tongue out at him and sit down where I am, "Come sit." I pat the empty pavement beside me.

Gage hesitates before awkwardly lowering onto the surface. "You're the tense one now." I smile.

"Tell me something. I think it's been a month now." I say referring to the time he said he would tell me something new about him in a month.

The corner of Gage's mouth lift up.

"Well I'll let you think of something," I pat his thigh, "In the meantime, I'll tell you something." I ponder for a few seconds before thinking about what to say.

Before I start speaking, I position myself in front of Gage.

"Alrighty... when I was thirteen, I had started pushing my family away -well, my parents considering that was the only family I had. But anyways, I did that. I never wanted to be around them like I had used to. I was always closer to my dad... I was a very artistic kid. I think I got that from him. Maybe that's why I talk so much. If I wasn't with my friends, I had a notebook and a pencil either writing stories and music, drawing, or taking pictures of anything and everything. When I was sixteen, my..." My eyes sting, "my mom was shot. By... by my dad. I don't know exactly what happened, no one does. It was an accident, I know that much. Sketchy, I know... Why he had a gun, he took it to the grave. My dad love my mom more than he loved breathing, but it killed my dad literally. He got cancer and didn't want to be treated because he thought he deserved it -to get sick and die. He really didn't though. He had known about the tumor for while, but told me when it was too late. He saved all of their money for me. I think my dad saw his death coming, that's why he saved it all. I was seventeen, maybe eighteen when he died so it was only about a year ago. I try not to think about it. I'm not a very emotional person, I try to be strong. I think that's why I'm such a bitch sometimes... I didn't know what I wanted to do with the rest of my life after that, but I knew it wasn't going to college. I applied and got in, nonetheless. I used all the money for college." I let my back rest on the concrete, "I made a ton of friends which made up for that, not that it effected me that much since I didn't talk to them much. They kind of just got me shit and made me food, which doesn't sound too bad." I chuckle, "I don't talk to much of my friends that often anymore, but that's another story." I sigh.

"Sounds like the best life in the world compared to mine." Gage gazes into the night.

"The best.... How'd you get into substance trafficking? Please do tell." I say with humor in my voice.

He goes a few moments before speaking, "When my mom died, my dad killed himself - not because of her since it's not like they gave a shit about each other... or me. I clearly didn't have anything to go to and I sure as hell wasn't going to one of those places for kids without parents."

"An orphanage." I interrupt.

"Yeah, that. No one would've wanted me anyways, but I didn't want to go. One of my friends knew a guy. A guy who always gave me all types of drugs that I'd take and I did a ton of bad shit," he admits, "I hopped around for a while until a couple years later and he told me about the whole thing -about how it all worked and shit so I could get money and not be a fucking bum ass pussy anymore." He looks to the sky.

I look at him for him to continue speaking, but apparently he's done.

How vague.

I giggle to myself.

I know there's a lot more too it all than he says, but he already told me a lot which is enough.

"So you've been a bad boy since country music and flare jeans were a thing. Impressive, but I know that's not your whole story." I smile.

"If I told you-" he begins.

"I'd run, yeah yeah," I laugh, "You always say that but the more I get to know you, I want to run away with you and not from you."
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I'd appreciate if you guys could vote and comment because it really makes my day when I get messages and comments from people who enjoy my story! It's also not the best writing to ghost readers. Although I still love everyone reading, you get what I mean.

majestiqal✨