⋆ n e w t i t l e s & s u d d e n o c c u r r e n c e s ⋆
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súton (n.) twilight; the approach of death or the end of something
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THE DAYS START TO BLEND together like colors at an artist's touch, a chill touching the air and consistently driving the temperature down. In mid-December, it's difficult to go anywhere without a thick coat and Christmas spirit. My time with Jordan has been mostly spent getting to know him better in between heated kisses and passionate embraces. Today the sky is stained an unwelcoming shade of grey, the air more windy than usual. The heaters are on full blast in all of the classrooms, students huddling together in the lunchroom as the doors continuously open and close from others going to and from their classes across the courtyard.
When I get to chemistry, Jordan's eyes are full of heat when he sees me despite the cold outside. I take my seat next to him and he pulls me closer to him, lab stool scratching against the floor.
"So, I just realized something," he says, resting his head on the palm of his hand as he stares at me.
"What's that?", I ask teasingly, taking in the way his maroon sweater clings to his large muscles and hard chest appreciatively. He wears an earring every day now since I let it slip that it made him even more attractive. Today, a small silver hoop dangles from one ear, glinting in the harsh lighting of the room.
He sees me looking him over, and he smirks, knowing exactly what I'm doing.
"I never asked you to be my girlfriend," he remarks casually, causing my pulse to speed up as it so often does in his presence.
"I didn't think you needed to," I say, smiling up at him, "but if you really want to...". I let my words trail off.
"Andromeda Marie Vega," his deep voice pronounces every syllable like a song, eyes filled with a mischievous glint, "will you be my girlfriend?". He takes my hand dramatically, causing me to giggle.
"Hmm, I don't know..."
"What do you mean?", he gasps, feigning hurt.
"Will you be a good boyfriend?", I ask, a sliver of sincerity weaving itself into my words.
"The best," he replies, green eyes shining with an unreadable emotion.
"Then yes, Jordan, I'll be your girlfriend," I finish, adding a theatrical flair to my words.
"Tease," he murmurs, kissing me on the nose. I can't help but smile at the fact that just four months earlier, every day was filled with an empty loneliness, a longing for someone to care, and now every moment is spent in the company of someone who makes me feel wanted, protected, and cared for.
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Nora, Miho, and I stop for some hot coffee at a shop after school, bringing along our books to study for midterms coming up soon.
"This is so annoying, why should seniors have to take this shit again? We've already suffered through three years of this nonsense," Nora groans, exaggeratedly dropping her books onto the table.
"At least we only have a few more months before we're free from this prison," Miho replies morbidly, and I laugh.
"Lighten up guys, it's not that bad," I say, eyes shining with mirth.
"Yeah, yeah, well we all don't have a boyfriend to make our days less hellish," Nora teases, winking at me. I roll my eyes and pick up my pencil, flipping through the textbook. We work in silence for a while, sipping our warm drinks, before a loud noise disrupts the calm.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, hearing the special ringtone for Jordan, and apologize to the girls, "sorry, I have to take this." They just shrug, and I answer the call, pressing it to my ear.
"What's up?", my tone is casual as I wonder why he's calling me now, knowing I'm busy.
"Sorry, I know you're studying right now, but I really need you." His voice is heavy with fear and I can immediately tell something is wrong.
"Okay, I'm coming right now, is everything okay?", I ask, the words rushing out quickly.
"I'll tell you when you get here," he responds, and I start packing up my books, shoving them into my bag, ignoring the surprised stares from Nora and Miho.
"Something is wrong with Jordan, I have to go now, I'm sorry," I say after I hang up, and they both nod understandingly, waving me off. I hop in my car and drive over to his house, hoping that everything is okay, my mind coming up with a hundred possibilities.
I pull up into his driveway, springing out as soon as it's parked, sprinting up his driveway and pushing open the heavy front door that looks as if it was forced open earlier today. My heavy steps echo up the stairs until I finally reach Jordan's spacious room. He's lying on his bed, facing the large windows on the other side of the room, a black hoodie pulled over his head. I cautiously make my way over, sitting down near his legs.
"Hey," he pushes out, voice strained as if he'd been screaming earlier.
"Hey, are you alright?", I ask, leaning over his face and pushing a strand of his hair out of his eyes. He looks up at me and his whole demeanor seems defeated, eyes holding unspeakable sorrow. He pulls me down next to him, rolling over so there's enough space for me to curl into him, his strong arms wrapping around me and his familiar scent washing over me.
"The police came this morning," he whispers, his breath tickling my hair, and my heart rate speeds up. I don't say anything because I can sense more to the story on the edge of his lips.
His voice breaks as he speaks his next words. "They forced their way straight through the front door, and in front of a five year old girl, a scared woman, and me, they arrested him. They fucking arrested him, Bumble."
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hehe only five chapters of the story left :)
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