Cliché Beginnings

Nicolas Pearson

"I like you Nic and I want to show you how much I do."

Have you ever listened to a song on a rainy day and felt so sad you just ended up crying? That no matter how hard you try to know why you just can't seem to put into words your feelings of despair? That is exactly how I'm feeling right now. Tommy said those words with emotions so raw that it felt like both of us will crumble anytime. My heart felt so heavy. I want nothing but to tell him I like him too but I knew it would be wrong to say it on the spur of the moment. When I finally say it to him I want it to be true, to be real enough that I will not feel regret coming. I don't want it to be out of pity. I want to tell Tommy that I like him as much he likes me.

"Carol's family owns this villa. We spend our summer here. It has always been lovely but today, it's even more." He says it while looking at me as if telling me I'm the reason why. I feel myself blush. Tommy knows exactly what to say to stir my emotions. I almost feel embarrassed but I choose to consider it as flattery instead. 

He leads me towards the house and the scent of baked goods wafts through the air. "Who's baking?" Tommy doesn't answer. He smiles, a small smile full of secrets and opens the door. The family room is warm and homey one that'll be warm during the winter and cool enough for the summer. Right at the side of the family room is an opening that leads to the kitchen. The smell of cookies and muffins is even stronger here urging me to come to it. 

There's no one on the kitchen but the freshness of the muffins and cookies says otherwise. How could that be? This almost seems magical. "My mom used to bake these for me and my sister when I was younger. It was my favorite until I discovered the lusciousness of steak and greasiness of fast food." I can't help but laugh. I can just imagine how he looked like the first time he took a bite of a fried chicken. I was the same too. "Don't ask me who baked these because I'm not telling you until we finish this date. Here, have a taste of my childhood." I have the feeling the it's not his mom who made this. That will be too fast of a development for us and it's not Tommy's personality to tell his mom things that are uncertain. I do want to meet his family if given the chance but I don't know if it should be as Tommy's friend or something more than that. 

After we've eaten half the amount of cookies, Tommy led me to the patio at the back facing the lake. It's calming. It's a contrast to the rush of yesterday at the arcade and at the restaurant. Yesterday felt like we were discovering new sides of each other. Today it feels like we're closing the gap between us. Yesterday felt like we were discovering new sides of each other. Today it feels like we're closing the gap between us. "I love it." He looks at me, his eyes glistening against the light. "Thank you, for bringing me here."

"I didn't bring you here just to let you see this view." I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. Whatever could the reason be? "Nic, can I-um, I. Wait. Nic, Nicolas. I-, can I." He keeps stumbling on his words and it's cute. Tommy purses his lips then takes one deep breath. "Can I paint you?" 

I can feel my eyes widening, my cheeks warming and my heartbeat raising. I've always wanted to see Tommy painting but for him to paint me, I can't help but feel shy. "I-Is it alright?" He smiles widely in return. "I would love to paint you, Nicolas." 

I didn't particularly do any pose. Tommy just made me sit at the Patio swing while doing anything I wanted. I don't how he can manage to paint me while I move around but I'm guessing he's doing well. It's been around three hours and I'm getting impatient. I take at peek at him and his lips are pursed in a straight line while his eyes dart back and forth from me and the painting. When he catches me looking, we both shy away. I can't seem to calm down but I love the attention anyway. Tommy's got this different air around when he's painting. He's more relaxed and at peace. He looks happier. If I could paint, I would paint him too so he can see how wonderful he looks at his zone. "Can I talk to you while you paint?" He freezes for a second before answering. "Y, yeah." I close my eyes and let my head rest at the swing. "Why do you like me, Tommy?"

Tommy puts down his paintbrush and let it rest with the palette on the table beside him. "I like you, Nic, for million things I can't define." My breath got caught on my throat. I want him to say it once more just so I can be sure he meant it. "I don't think I deserve this, to be liked so much." He stands, approaches the swing and leans down close to me while his hands supports his weight through the frame. "You deserve it Nicolas. More than anyone. I like you. I'll keep repeating it to you until you believe it. I like you." I was lost for words, my rationality gone with the passing wind. I want this moment to stop. I want to just look at Tommy's eyes, to see the affection that's only for me. Yes, it's all just for me.

I stand, slightly surprising him. I unclasp my fists I didn't know I was clenching and reach for his face. There's no turning back. I know what I'm feeling. Long before he confessed I was already captured by him. I like Thomas Weiss. I like him so much I don't know if I can hold it back anymore. "Tommy. Thomas. I like you. I've always liked you." 

For a long time, Tommy didn't respond. We were just standing, staring at each other. I was almost worried he suddenly realized this is all a mistake until tears started falling on his eyes. Tommy's crying but I didn't know if it's of sadness or relief. He pulls me to him, wraps his arms so tightly around me as if he was afraid I'd disappear. I cry too holding into him. I've been lonely for so long that the thought someone wanting me this much is almost painful.