" LOVEBIRDS " + STENBROUGH [discontinued]

03

the first thing stanley uris learns about the boy next door is that his eyes are the color of a bluebird. soft, and warm, and filled with a light so unreal and beautiful it hurts. stan loves bluebirds.

and then he sees his hair, and learns of the gold and bronze the bury themselves in his copper locks. he learns that it's messy as it is neat, and has the perfect amount of both, and it looks so soft that stan wishes to run his fingers through it.

and then it's that he's so tall his ankles stick out awkwardly of his pant legs, and his voice is deep and soft and warm all at once, and that he's allergic to raisins. and he has a stutter. and that he prefers chocolate chip anyway, which is what he tells stan and angie when she offers him her variety plate of cookies she made.

stan learns his name is bill—bill denbrough, to be exact—and that his mother is kind, and sweet, and that his eyelashes are long (and he discovers this because he rolls his eyes embarrassedly when his mother tells him to show stan his room).

"you really like folding paper," stanley says out loud, as he crosses the threshold, and notices the small origami that sits around the room, on his shelf, and night stand, and desk. a paper airplane sits on his desk, and hanging from a hook on ceiling is a beautiful origami bird. stan's heart flutters like its wings.

"y-yeah," bill stutters out, blushing a deep rose color and itching the back of his freckled neck. he's covered in freckles, but not too many. and stanley is in awe, because he has no freckles. just pasty skin, and a few weird moles, and a pair of glasses perched on a slightly hooked nose thanks to his horrible eyesight. "it's r-re-relaxing."

and looking out bill's window, he sees into his bedroom through his own open window.

"you sent a paper airplane through my window," stan says absentmindedly, and turns back to look at bill, who stands awkwardly in the middle of his carpet, watching with wide eyes, almost nervous eyes. like he fears judgement from a boy who is so messed up that he has no right to be judgmental anyways.

"y-yes."

"mind showing me how to make one? i want to send you a note, but i can't for the life of me figure out how to get it to go the distance between our windows." stan sits on the window seat, and gestures bill to sit beside him. and the two sit besides each other, and stan looks out the window and down, and bill follows his eye. paper airplanes litter the ground between their houses.

"wow," bill mumbles, impressed by how bad stan is at this.

"seriously, it never works," stan says. he looks up and at bill, who is literally glowing thanks to the sun that streams through the window, but stan tries to ignore the flips his heart is doing. "i think i need help, or else i'll be responsible for an entire forest being destroyed. i mean, this is only the half of it. imagine how much crumpled paper is in my room!"

bill chuckles.

"maybe y-you have to i-in-invite me o-oh-over s-sometime to s-s-s-see." stan blushes, as bill stands to grab two sheets of paper.

and they sit, while their 2/3 of their mother's talk downstairs, facing each other and folding paper.

"this looks wrong," stan mumbles, holding up a wonky piece of paper. bill's looks much better, with crisp lines and perfect symmetry. bill smiles softly at stan's attempt, taking his hands and placing them flat on the cushioned sear between them.

bill guides stan's hands in refolding and flattening the edges of the plane.tingles shoot through their hands, hearts beating wildly, both boys painted the color of the pink nail polish on bill's fingers.

"t-thuh-there," bill says, grinning with pride as stan holds up his plane. he tosses it towards bill's closet door to see how far it goes. it hits the door.

"that totally would've gone farther if the door wasn't there," stan grumbles. bill nods.

"b-but that's a guh-good thing!" bill says, as a knock on the door signals a goodbye for stan and bill.

"talk to you soon!" stan says, and he does.

later that night, he folds a much better paper airplane, trying to remember the feeling of bill's hands guiding him.

and on the piece of paper, before it was folded, stan writes a letter.

dear bill,

i enjoyed spending time with you today. and i'd like to do it again. perhaps tomorrow or the day after, depending on your schedule.
we can also talk through our windows, if you can't meet me during the day. either way, i'm looking forward to being friends.

best wishes,
stanley uris

it's only after five drafts he gets one thst isn't too bland, but doesn't end with him pouring his heart out, his feelings for a boy he knows little about besides his looks and his words that slips from his fingertips onto paper.

he pushes the curtains, opens his window, kneels on the window seat, and aims it into bill's bedroom.

stanley releases it nicely, and it sails smoothly in between his curtains and into bill's bedroom.

until the next paper airplane comes sailing in.