Your My Dream (BoyxBoy)

Your My Dream (BoyxBoy) 29

*Jessie's POV*

The inside of my eyelids are turned red from the sun. Morning. And it terrifies me, so I snuggle closer to the pillar of warmth next to me and pretend my life is just a bad dream. But you can only pretend for so long before someone wake's you from the fantasy.

"So it's really over..." Tristan whispers to himself, the sound to close to be misheard. I feel my bottom lip tremble and a sob steels its way from my throat. It is really over, and without the numbness to protect me I feel my emotions driving knife's into my heart.

"Sorry.. I didn't know you were up" Tristan murmurs and strokes my hair softly.

I cling to him, trying to make whatever seems to be building in my stomach come to a halt. It doesn't, in fact, burrowed in his warmth it grows more steadily. I feel like something evil is trying to claw it's way out of me or something. I'm shaking.

"It's okay Jess..." Tristan assures me, rubbing my back in small circles.

"No it's not" I disagree. Nudge my head further against his chest. He sighs.

"Your right" he says under his breath.

We lie like that for awhile before I finally realise that were both crying, holding each other so tight it actually hurts. The physical pain is the last thing on my mind though. No, emotional pain has the floor, and my ugly tears are making spots on Tristan's sweater.

He leans down and kisses them with enough tenderness to make me feel a little better. What's that ridiculous old saying? Oh right. It's better to have loved and lost then to have never have loved at all. I guess that's true. I guess I love him.

Moot point to tell him now.

We don't get a very long time to hold each other and cry, listening to the gentle wave's as they lap onto the beach. No, soon Vanessa and Evan are stirring, slowly being pulled from there dreams into the blinding sunlight of a new day. The last day..

I sit up, wiping my eye's and hoping my face isn't to deformed. Tristan sits up to, his arms never unravelling from around me, almost as if were attached. That attachment doesn't stop as we pack up our few things, and start walking back to the house.

Once we get there, we all silently begin to pack our things. No one wants to talk. Evan doesn't want to intrude, Vanessa doesn't want to think about it, Tristan doesn't want to lose me, and I.. I don't want to lose any of them.

Once we're all packed up we sit in the living room. It's still pretty quite, even as Miss. Lucille enters to tell us goodbye. She looks.. Weary. As if our reluctance to talk is some kind of trap for her to fall into. Still, being a good hostess, she clears her throat to speak.

"Evan, Jessie. You've both been very good guests. Thank you for that" she says. There's no infliction in her tone, but I think she's secretly warmed up to us a little. No long do her eye's hold menace and her sculpted face disapproval. Interesting, but I'm to upset to feel any pride at this accomplishment.

"Vanessa, Tristan.... I'll miss you" she tell her children, then give's them both stiff armed hugs, that they return awkwardly. "Thanks mom" they both conjure up the energy to mumble sheepishly. Then the Taxi's here and we're all piling in.

Through the plane and Taxi ride I flip through my picture's. the one's on the beach, the one's around the house, the one's of the ocean, and the one's I took on the Taxi ride in. beautiful picture's, each holding still a moment I was happy.

I fall asleep on the ride back home. I guess all the travelling and the crappy movie on the plane wore me down. I'm woken by Tristan shaking my arm, his face close to mine. Seeing my eye's open he give's me a very short kiss, drawing a whine form my mouth.

"I'll see you tomorrow..." his voice breaks half way through the assurance. Yes we'll see each other tomorrow. But when will we see each other after that?? Not nearly as often. Not nearly often enough. So I lean up, press my lips against his, and slid my tongue in.

It's a different kind of kiss, and it feel a lot like a promise. It feels hopeful.

The taxi driver clears his throat in a disgusted manner, and I slid from the car, lips still locked to Tristan's, only breaking the kiss when it's necessary for him to be able to drive away. I go into the house feeling empty and full of agony at the same time.

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Inside my own home I find everything to be distant. Ugly. Unfamiliar. Uncomfortable. I think that's just my mood though. My family swarms me, especially Kelsey and mom, desperate for something to take their minds off the move. By the time there halfway done there interrogation, I'm considering writing my trip to California as a novel. They're certainly making it feel longer then a week.

I can scarcely look at mom. I think I have it bad? Sure I'm leaving Tristan, and it really hurt. Just thinking about it I feel a small tear leak from the corner of my eye. Kelsey and mom look away, pretending not to notice. That the name of the game now. Pretending.

We all pretend for a while together. Pretend dad hasn't ruined are life's. pretend tomorrow were not waking up to go far, far away. New York, huh? How will I ever survive when my whole life I've known everyone in this town? In New York you scarcely know your neighbours.

When were done pretending, we go off to our separate rooms for the night. Sleep doesn't find me in my room, and I'm eager for a distraction, an illusion. Something to keep my mind of tomorrow. Something to keep my mind off today. Something to keep my mind off the very real possibility that I'm in love and I'm leaving my love behind.

There's a knock on my door. For a moment I think I simply imagined it, but then the doors pushed open, and there stands an uncertain Kelso, his legs half tensed to walk the other way, his eye's thickly bagged from lack of sleep and his hair appropriately messy from lying in bed.

"Kelso?" I say curiously. Kelso doesn't talk to me anymore. Not that we were ever particularly close. Still, I'm his older brother, so I used to have some insight into his life. Lately I've had none.

"Yeah" he says. State's. I don't even know. He just say the word, his voice as undecided and doubtful as my own. I blink at him, then focus. He's been crying. Should I point it out? No. it would only embarrass him. And who knows. Maybe he's come to make nice.

"What's up?" I start cautiously.

"Can we talk...?"

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Oh, beloved fans :) I can only imagine the looks on your face's as you stare at me (well, you computers..) thouroghly dumbfounded as to just what i'm doing with my story. i bet you think i'm insane? Maybe a little, but this has been the plan along along. The plot tline, the story itself. Don't worry lovely little fans, readers, haters, and commentters. I only plan to make this story more messed up :D

Oh, and last couple chapters.... 14 comments? that just won't do!!! I'mma need atleast twenty five before another chapter is posted. You guys really must learn (And sorry to those of you who do) that you need to commetn consistently, or I won't UPLOAD concistently :) Thank you all