Head Over Heels ✓

30 / unexpected

may, age 21

Lucas waited with bated breath, his back straight and his hands dug deep into his pockets as he shifted from one foot to the other. He hated waiting. It always made his antsy, too apprehensive to even waste minutes scrolling through his phone. His inbox was already impeccably clean, never an email out of place, and he had no unread messages in his inbox. His apps, the few that he had, were meticulously colour-coded and every notification was tended to as soon as it popped up.

The wind picked up. He curled his fingers around his phone, wishing it would buzz just to give him something to do. Asher should have been out fifteen minutes ago and Lucas had been waiting ever since he had gone in to finalise his last piece of coursework, slowly freezing as the May weather felt more like a February chill flooding his bones. Gritting his teeth, he shifted again to lean against the wall.

After three years of toiling over his degree, producing endless works of art both in his sketchbook and on the computer, Asher's time at university was coming to an end. With no formal exams in June, the end of spring marked the end of his illustration degree. All that was left was to hand in his final portfolio, the selection of the year's work that he had spent hours organising and perfecting.

It had been hard to keep the flat tidy with pencils and paint strewn over the place, a stray canvas often propped up in the sitting room. Although the digital side of Asher's course was the most popular among students, he had taken up a few modules in physical art, dabbling in as many mediums as he could. A whole bookshelf had been taken over by his array of charcoals and acrylics, canvases and boards stacked up among watercolour pads and print-outs of his graphic design.

The chaos hadn't bothered Lucas as much as he had thought it would. At least, he had learnt to deal with the organised mess that the flat existed in: everything had a place, even if that place meant being constantly buried under three feet of paper. He and Asher had come to an agreement: as long as there was order in the bedroom, the rest of the flat could be an absolute tip. Lucas just needed that sanctuary, and he could deal with whatever else went on around him.

When his phone rang, the sudden vibration took him by surprise. With a jump, he whipped his mobile out of his pocket, expecting to see Asher's name on the screen but his sister's flashed up on the screen. With a smile, he swiped the green arrow to answer the call.

"Hi, Audrie," he said, glancing up at the glass doors. No sign of Asher. "What's up?"

"Hey, Lucas," she said. "I miss you, little brother. I feel like I haven't seen you in forever. Just wondering if you're coming home any time soon or if I'm going to have to drag my arse down to Brighton."

"It's only been a few weeks," he said, doing the mental maths before realising he was wrong. Almost two months had passed since Audrie's twenty-sixth birthday, the last time he and Asher had headed back to Farnleigh.

"It's been seven!" she cried out. "I don't want to sound like a pathetic clingy sister but I miss you and Ash."

"The others aren't enough for you?" he joked. "I'd have thought if anything, you're overexposed to all your young siblings."

"You'd have thought so but nope. I finished my PhD, Lucas. I don't know what to do with myself without the horrendously debilitating stress," she said with a laugh. "I'm sure Coop's going to miss me yelling at him for no good reason. So, what's your answer? When are you two getting your butts up here?"

Lucas leant away from the wall to peer through the doors again. A couple of people filtered out of the arts building, their faces a picture of nerves and excitement. Movement at last. "Today, actually," he said, squinting at the faces as though he wouldn't instantly recognise his boyfriend. No matter how poor his vision, how much he needed a new pair of glasses, he could always spot Asher in a crowd.