step into the sun || c.m

chapter twenty four

Connor woke up in the morning with weight on top of him that he had no recollection of when he had fallen asleep. He was almost horrified to go to open his eyes. He heard the slow and steady breathing of the only person he knew better than he knew himself and everything flooded back to him. 

Well, almost everything. 

"Jesus, Cierra!" He started to push her off of him. He couldn't remember what they had done, but he knew that Cierra was literally on top of him. He remembered her kissing him, and he remembered her trying to take her shirt off. The rest is foggy, but he was still panicking. "Fuck, Cierra!" He did his best not to hurt her as he half woke her up other half shoving her off of him. He heard her breath hitch as she started to grumble her way into a sitting position, not getting off of Connor's lap regardless of the little shoves and squirms from Connor in attempts to get her off of him. 

"What the hell, Connor?" She rubbed her eyes, her legs locked around his torso, her voice leaking with a hungover fog. In the uncertain panic he was in, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off of him and sat her down on the other end of the couch. Her hands dropped to her sides, soon after folding her arms angrily. The dark eye makeup and eyeliner that dusted her eyes was smudged. Her makeup was always smudged, but he liked it better that way. She looked more natural. "Connor, what the fuck?" She whined, probably still feeling some of the affects of the drugs from last night. 

"Do you not know what the hell we did?" He narrowed his eyes, pulling his lofty legs underneath him, crossing them. He himself wasn't sure of what they did, but from what he can pull out of the foggy, smoke tainted depths of his brain it sure as hell gave him a sizable hint. 

"We made out?" She scoffed and raised her eyebrows. Her legs seemed to go on for years. He didn't remember her wearing jean shorts, or changing into them at that, but the maroon sweater was still on, stretched out, hanging off of her left shoulder, all the way down to her collarbone. He couldn't help but wonder what the marks of his lips would look like littered across her soft skin. He shook the thought out of his head, getting back to the discussion of 'what the absolute hell did we do last night.' 

"We didn't just make out." Connor shot back, almost certain of himself. He didn't quite think through the fact that they were both wearing all of their clothes. If they were both high and if they hooked up in anyway, they probably wouldn't have thought to put all of their clothes back on. 

"Yes, we did." She chuckled, her legs swinging over the side of the couch as she pulled her body up. She stretched out her body, small as it is, elongate herself and stretch upwards, her arms flying above her head as her fingers locked together. He could see a slim outline of the soft skin of her stomach above the waistline of her jeans as her body distended. "Connor, we literally just made out." She laughed even more, her arms falling limp again against her sides as she turned herself around to face him. "We got high, I wanted to screw around, we made out for a few, you stopped it before it could get to a point where we both regretted it." She shrugged, her long hair swinging around her shoulder effortlessly. 

"Oh." He almost scolded himself for stopping it, but everything started to come back. From when she jumped on him to taking her shirt off to falling asleep with her on top of him. He remembered that he stopped it because he couldn't live with himself if he had taken advantage of her like that son of a bitch did before. "That's good." He added on, not yet getting up from the cushy, old couch himself. 

"I don't know." She sighed, her gaze drifting from his eyes to the wall, focusing on the largest hole that was punched by her father. "I almost wish we had." She whispered, her eyes falling down to her feet covered in a pair of black socks. 

"No you don't" He settled, not looking away from her for even a moment. 

"Yes, I do Connor." Even though he couldn't see her eyes very well, he saw the tears start to fall down her cheeks, and he could hear that her voice was about to break. He couldn't bring himself to respond to her, he couldn't bring himself to tell her that he wished they had to, that he wished that last night everything had changed. That last night, they had done something neither of them had ever done with someone that they truly loved or even remotely cared to hook up with. "I wish we had because I meant it when I said I loved you." His breath caught in his throat. He couldn't breathe anymore. He couldn't feel his heart beating. Everything physically stopped. "I love and care about you so incredibly much, and I just..." He could feel his heart start to push blood through his body again. She loved him. He knew this. He had always known this. He had always known that she loved him, not the way he wanted, but he knew. And that's all she was doing. Reiterating the fact that she loved him. "I wanted to do that with someone I love or even just fucking give a shit about. Not someone whose going to slip some shit in my drink and-" She cut herself off before she could finish so she didn't say it out loud. "Someone who will treat me correctly. You do. I know you probably don't care if you do that wi-" He cut her off this time. 

"I wish when I did it was with you." It sounded disgusting, really. It did. It honestly sounded like he was obsessed with her. Her green eyes widened to the size of golf balls seemingly. He took a deep breath, sucking in as much air as he possibly could before standing back up, making them only a few feet apart. Her eyes followed him all the way up. "Well, you are the only person that I genuinely care about, and I would  have preferred to have done that with you instead of that... Girl." He shuttered at the idea of ever seeing that girl again. Her name still felt like venom on his tongue, so he never said it. He looked down at Cierra and she almost looked sad. Her eyes seemed as if they were about to drip off as they stood there looking at one another in the content silence. It didn't really grow awkward, which kind of scared Connor. 

"Listen," She started after almost five minutes of staring and silence. "I move out in two and half weeks or whatever." She let out a deep sigh, one he didn't even realize she was harboring. "I haven't even started packing my room. You wanna help?" He instantly nodded, not hesitating for even a moment. He trailed behind her, up the stairs that last night had seemed much longer than either of them had ever imagined. They went past her living room and kitchen, halfway packed up. He had barely even noticed over these past weeks her house was slowly becoming emptier and emptier. He saw her mother, a nearly empty whiskey bottle hung in her hand as she lay limp on the couch. 

"She okay?" Connor whispered, careful not to wake her mother up, even though a marching band probably couldn't wake her up. 

"She was packing when you picked me up." She didn't really even answer the question, but he didn't press for an actual answer as they made their way up the stairs and into Cierra's room that wasn't even close to being ready to leave. It seemed like she was going to be living in this room until she graduated college. 

"Damn, Cierra." He scanned the room, convincing himself it looked worse than when he was last in here. "Have you even like, tried?" She stomped over and swatted his arm, even though she was holding some cardboard boxes that were seemingly to put stuff in. 

"Shut the fuck up." She laughed, taking out a thick black sharpie and placing it in his hands. "Let's label these fucking boxes, hm?" She plopped down on the ground, gesturing for Connor to follow her lead and do the same. He quickly obliged, taking a box for himself. 

"What do I label this one?" He questioned, popping the cap off of his marker. 

"Stuff for Connor." He was taken aback instantly. 

"What?" He squeaked out. 

"Yeah, I mean, I'm not gonna take everything and whatever you don't want I'll give to goodwill or some shit." She shrugged it off. "Who else would I give it to?" She added on and he felt his heart melt into multiple different puddles inside of himself. He couldn't quite bring himself to say something that was also touching.

"As long as I can keep that cute pink sundress, I'm happy." He settled on a joke instead. It seemed like a win of some sort because she let out a tiny fit of laughter, one of the most heavenly sounds in the world. 

"Fuck you, Connor." 

author's note// I JUST GOT BACK FROM VACATION and i'm gonna update alot this week prolly,,, i'm also starting a connor murphy n evan hansen oneshot thing also what would yall do if i wrote an evan x oc work?? please tell me !!! also i'll tell yall my tumblr when it's up and running thanK you sorry this was a shitty filler my babes