A Collection of Imagines

John

Butterflies

I think it's about 10:00 am. I don't want to get up though. I don't feel like taking on the day. I just want to stay here in bed and eventually slip away.

I'm standing outside her childhood bedroom door. I haven't been here in ages. It feels like forever since I stood here and waited for her to change into her prom dress. Since she cried over her husband cheating on her the first time. Since I almost told her I ... I shake away that memory as I place my hands on the door frame, leaning in to hear if she was up.

I shuffle in my sheets, trying to let sleep overtake me again. I'm too hot, but too lazy to get up to turn on the fan. I create a barrier with my comforter to push myself into the corner. I open my eyes to see what I have created. A mountain of blankets is shielding me from the rest of the world as I lie in the corner of my bed.

I place my ear on her door. I hear her moving, but I don't think shes out of bed yet. I look down at my watch see that it's 10:12. She needs to get out of bed anyway. I open her door.

My door opens and I groan. "Five more minutes, mom." I wait a couple seconds after I plunged my face into my pillow, expecting the door to close again. When it doesn't, I groan once more. "Mom."

She's trying to hide herself within the thousand sheets that are on this small bed. The slightly dazed expression on her face makes her appear younger. My eyes soften at her tired state. Was she always this precious?

I feel a hand push against my lower back. I whip my head around, "I said—." My eyes go wide. Holy fuck. He's here .... after all this time. The one face I wanted to see in this whole mess. He's here.

Her eyes go wide, surprised that I'm standing in her bedroom after I went away, leaving her in the mess that she calls her marriage. No, that's not going to happen again. All of the sudden, she stands on her bed and jumps into me. Legs wrapping themselves around waists and arms around necks. I laugh, taken aback by her sudden affection. I hug her tighter against my chest and bury my face into her neck. Taking in her scent. I missed this.

"I'm so glad you're here." It's a true statement. I couldn't believe it when he told me he needed to leave. I thought I lost the one person I needed the most. My best friend. And throughout this whole mess, I hoped that one day he would come back. To me. "I missed you."

I moved my head to look at her. "I missed you too." The way that her eyes poured into mine said something that made my heart jump. The silence that poured out of us was deafening. Here's your chance, John. "Listen—," I hesitate. Her eyes become frantic because of it.

"You're not leaving again, are you?" He can't leave, please. He pulls me back into him.

"No. No, I'm not going to do that again." I place my hand on the top of her head and she relaxes against me. "I'm not going anywhere." I walk toward the bed still with her in my arms. I sit at the edge and I wait for her to decide that she's done being comforted. I know it will be soon. Too soon.

He sits at the edge of my bed and hold him tighter. I missed his smell. His security. His affection. I sit on his lap, chests still touching, and I move to look at him face to face. His golden orbs remind me of our days as teenagers exploring the world with a different lens. His chocolate hair covering too much of his face. I push it away. Why do I have this heavy urge to kiss him right now? I shake the question from my thoughts. "What were you going to say?"

I watch the words fall out of her mouth. Slowly, watching her lips curve at each syllable. The plush pillow that I have longed to feel on my own. The butterflies that were once so juvenile return to my stomach. I'm reliving the times when I was 17. Watching and waiting for her to realize that I have been here this whole time. I lean forward, close my eyes and pray that she doesn't reject me.

His eyes don't leave my lips. Is he thinking the same thing? I look down at his. I watch as the air goes in and out of his perfectly shaped mouth. Whoa, I have never thought of that before. And yet, here I am. Sitting in the lap of my best friend, chests pressed against one another, and thinking about kissing him in my childhood bedroom. He leans forward and I don't stop him. Butterflies appear in my stomach, my breathe hitches, and my hands grab his hair. Inviting a familiar feeling, even though in actuality it's completely foreign.

I don't think I even need to tell her. This is all I need to do. To show her how much I have cared for her all these years. I hope that she finally realizes that no matter how many times she pushes me away, I will always be there.