Being Pansexual

19. Quiet

The other day we were just laying down. The beanbags were not too comfortable, but yours was lined up right next to mine.
You were tired and so was I.
I leant my head on your shoulder and you let your cheek rest atop of my head. Everyone else around us was loud, as was the music, but we were quiet, hiding away in the corner.
You didn't want to be there, but you came for me. The least I could do was hang out with you, that's what someone would say. But I would've hung out with you no matter what. Truthfully, if you asked me to not come to this party in general, I would've stayed home, with you. For you.
My head on your shoulder, your head on mine. You were so close to me... yet, so far away. It made my heart ache.
I reached over and started to poke the designs of flowers down your arms slowly, trying to focus on the stitching of them, the design, rather than anything else.
You laughed, moving your head, and it made me smile, I looked up at you and you were watching me.
"Just take my arm then," you laughed and layed your arm over me.
I remember smiling at you and then wrapping my arms around yours. Hugging your arm, wishing to be hugging all of you. I was staring at your hand, wishing to be holding it.
And then, your fingers found mine and they intertwined.
I looked up at you. And you just smiled and said, "you're warm," quietly.
We layed there for a while, my head on your shoulder, your head on my head, our hands intertwined.
And for me, everything seemed quiet. Nothing existed but you and me.