A Guide To Love: Stucky One Shots

BEST GIFT OF ALL

JULY 4TH, 2015

It is a warm morning in DC. The sun's out, bright and warm and the birds are putting an extra effort into their chirping. The grass beneath his feet is lush green and soft to the touch. As he looks up at the sky, he's greeted by the sight of a clear, blue sky. The sky reflects in his blue eyes, making them a little brighter, a little more lively. The park has come alive in the last hour or so. Kids are out and playing, some on the swings or the slides, others running around and chasing each other. He watches them with longing, hoping against hope that he could become one of them. People have already started splaying out their picnic baskets and water pitchers. Some go as far as to bring their own umbrellas, while others decide to bear it all in the sun. There are dogs running free, enjoying the sun on their skin just as much as he is. Some of them come over to sniff at him, lift their heads for him to pet, while others steer clear. He doesn't mind either, it's for the best that nobody recognises him. When the crowd gets too much, he heads back to his apartment. He never calls it home, because it isn't. Not without 'him' at least. But he knows he's never coming, he wouldn't because he probably doesn't want to either.

The staircase that leads to his apartment is creaky and bare wood. Every footstep resounds with a heavy thud and every movement invites shaky trembling. He doesn't grab the railing on the sides, in fear that they might snap if he touched them. That's a precaution he should take in his life too; steer clear of people so he doesn't snap their lives in half. He can name atleast five names of the top of his head that would be been better off without him. Especially 'him'. He would've been so much better off without him.

There's a package lying in front of his door. Neatly wrapped in wrapping paper and even has a bow on top. He approaches it carefully, looking to the sides to see if anyone's waiting to ambush him. He's paranoid and anxious, work hazards, and his first instinct is to move apartments again. Someone knows where he lives and that's dangerous for him. Dangerous for everyone living around him.

He crouches beside the gift and examines it from near. There's a note stuck to the bow, the handwriting on it neat and beautiful, calligraphic to be precise. And it's not the beauty of it that brings a smile to his face, it's from whom the note is.

He picks up the gift, cradles it close to his chest and sighs deeply. He's never been so happy since he woke up in the 21st century. His heart feels heavy and light at the same time, while his mind is overcome with nostalgia. He doesn't know if the tears running down his eyes are of happiness or grief, but he doesn't care or mind. He's floating and drowning at the same time but it's euphoric and electrifying.

He remembers him.

Once he enters his apartment, he moves straight into his bedroom. He places the gift on the bed and carefully unwraps it. The crinkling of the wrapping paper is the only sound in his apartment and it is a gore reminder of the lonely life he leads. He shakes his head to clear the tears that blind him and concentrates on carefully removing the wrapping, so as to not tear them.

Once he unwraps them, he can't believe his eyes. It's such a simple gift but he can't hold back the tears. It's like a dam opening, water gushing out forcefully and quickly. He sobs into his hands, makes pained noises and doesn't try to hold back whatever it is that he's feeling. Because this life has not been fair to him and it's still not getting any better. He deserves better and so does his best friend. But life's a bitch and both their lives are a long standing testimony to it.

He picks up the box of colour pencils, the expensive kind that he could've never been able to afford in the 20th century, and lovingly places them on his bedside table. He rubs his fingers over the box, again and again, convinced that they'll soon disappear and he'll be left with nothing but the cold reminder of this daydream of his. The thought is scary but so is his life.