The Sun And The Stars •completed•

Now That You're Here

Audrey woke Eli abruptly, shaking his shoulders. He moaned and rubbed his eyes. "It's the last day!" The weight behind her words was crushing, but she still chirped. Eli yawned and pushed himself up. It was still dark. "What time is it?" He asked, mid-yawn. 

"Five." Audrey said nonchalantly, pulling out the bus directory from her backpack. She flicked through it, and then stopped. "Look, this is where we're stopping. It's totally quaint. But, there's this creek, and a restaurant that backs onto it." She handed the pamphlet to Eli and then pointed at it again, "And look, a petting zoo!"

Eli half smiled, and yawned again. "Sounds great, Aud. Can I go back to sleep now?" 

****

"It's raining." Audrey muttered, her finger following a raindrops trail down the bus window. "Of course it's raining." 

"There's a storm brewing," Cooed the bus driver, an especially old man with an unfamiliar accent. Audrey frowned deeper and continued to stare out the window. She followed Eli off of the bus, where the air was chilled and the sky was concrete grey. Small, steady drops of rain fell on to them, and Audrey couldn't believe her luck. On her last day with Eli, it was going to storm. 

She showered, combed through her hair, and tried to find an appropriate outfit. There wasn't one. With a sigh, she put on a dress and slipped on her ankle boots. It was the best she could do, having not banked on any bad weather. 

"Is that what you're wearing?" Eli asked when Audrey ran back into the bus, in her large printed flower dress that barely reached her knees, sleeves only to her elbows. She was already wet, curls drooping from the rain. She nodded, slightly shivery. Eli shook his head and pulled off his sweater. He handed it to her, the sweater he'd worn when they'd met. The same one she'd fallen asleep on. Audrey took it gratefully, gingerly holding the soft material in her hands. 

Eli pulled on one of his other sweaters, and Audrey followed suit, pulling his sweater over her head. It was far too big, but it was so soft, and it smelled like him, nutmeg and all. She smiled to herself and hugged it around herself a little tighter. Her head snapped up to a quiet laugh in front of her. "You look ridiculous." Eli said, trying not to laugh too hard. 

It was true, she did look ridiculous, her dress strange and pretty under the confines of his old, faded, way-too-big sweater. She rolled her eyes and looked pointedly at the floor, cheeks pink. Eli could tell she was still avoiding his gaze. 

"Well, I saw a book store in the directory." Eli changed the subject, "It's just a couple minutes that way." He pointed out of the bus, where the rain was coming down harder, big droplets relentlessly drenching the town around them. "Okay." Audrey shrugged, pulling her hood up. 

By the time they reached the book store, they were soaked, and Audrey laughing lightly, so entranced by every little adventure. They walked in, where the heating was blasting, or so it felt after being in the rain so long. Audrey basked under the heating vent, eyes closed and arms fanned out. 

Eli looked around him, smiling at the thousands of books that lined the walls and shelves. The oak smell, the perfectly dull lighting. He felt like he was in a space that he belonged. "Where should we go first?" He turned to Audrey. She stared at him for a long moment, before saying, "How about astronomy?" 

She took the lead, walking through aisles and aisles until she found the right section. The book store was quiet, almost empty, and Audrey was thrilled. She sat herself down in front of the astronomy books and ran her fingers along their spines. Outside, the storm worsened, and out of the small windows they could see an occasional flash of lightening, or hear a crash of thunder. Eli sat beside her, listening to the patter of the rain hitting the windows. 

Suddenly, Audrey pulled out a book. He craned his neck to see. "Constellations." She whispered, opening up the book. She looked up, "Turn to face me." She said, shuffling around. Eli complied, confused, but contented, used to her spontaneity. "Okay," Audrey smiled, "Let's see what ones match you." 

Eli smirked and watched her trace a picture in the book. "I don't think you're gonna find a match." He said. Audrey ignored him, and instead reached out and brushed her fingers over his cheek. "I think I might." She said confidently. 

Audrey spent half an hour, pink lips parted, eyes carefully examining Eli's freckles. She would occasionally touch his face, or push his hair out of the way. And Eli's chest burned when she would touch him, or look at him with those understanding eyes. He'd never ever wanted someone to touch him, or even look at him before, but he never wanted her to stop. 

"I've made a conclusion." Audrey announced, slamming the book shut. "Your freckles are all the constellations, at once." 

"That's your scientific conclusion?" 

"That is it, yes." Audrey giggled, and pulled out another book, moving herself back to lean against the wall. Eli's eyes lingered on her a moment longer before he reached forward and pulled out a book for himself to read. They sat quietly for an hour, Eli more fascinated by astronomy than he thought he'd be. Audrey was the first to speak again, of course. 

"Did you know that the sun is a star?" Audrey asked. Eli laughed shortly, his hair falling in front of his eyes as he did. "I think everyone who went to third grade knows that." He said, and Audrey stuck her tongue out at him. "It's just, you forget sometimes." She said, and looked into his eyes. Those molten eyes that burned into hers. She looked away again. 

Eye contact had never been a problem for Audrey before, which is why it was especially disturbing now. Now that she kept breaking first, now that it felt like she might cry every time he locked eyes with her, his intense stare so rich and honest.

"Isn't it funny how the sun and the stars look so different to us, but really they're just the same?" Audrey turned and looked out of the rain soaked window. "The sun seems so bright, but the stars are just as bright. You just have to look a little closer." She tucked her hair behind her ears, and swallowed, "People are like that. Not as different as they look. Brighter than they seem at first glance."

Eli stared at the girl beside him, completely enamored. She sat in his sweater, hair still damp, eyes so bright, and smile so perfect. And he wasn't sure he could imagine a life without her. 

He couldn't believe that someone could be so obliviously poetic. So unabashedly gorgeous.

She turned back, still planning to avoid his gaze that she could feel was on her. Cautiously, she brought her eyes to meet his, and it was like they were tied together, and Audrey couldn't possibly tear her eyes away from his. 

Eli reached out and lifted her chin up, and all of a sudden they were kissing and kissing and kissing, and Audrey could feel every firework exploding in her as Eli ran his fingers through her hair. 

With a sinking, disappointing realization, Audrey pulled away. She was out of breath. Hand gripping on Eli's shoulder, she tried to breathe, closing her eyes and counting it out. "Are you okay?" Eli asked, a little breathless himself. 

Audrey nodded frantically, but her heartbeat wouldn't fall back into it's usual rhythm. She sighed and then started to laugh, her face falling into his chest. It was insane. She could officially add kissing to list of things that she couldn't do for an extended period of time. Audrey couldn't wait for it to be over, for her to be able to breathe freely. 

The smiled at the thought, and decided her first order of business would be to kiss Eli for as long as she pleased. But, as she shifted to lean her head on his shoulder, her arm linked into his, holding his hand firmly, she remembered that she wouldn't be seeing Eli after tomorrow. 

Would there be some other boy for her to kiss? She grimaced, and knew that there wouldn't be anyone else she'd want to kiss. Would there ever? Could she even imagine another boy? Eli rested his head on top of hers, and the pair sat in silence, listening to the storm, too scared to speak of the things coming.