Asunder

Chapter 41 - Certain

May rolls around, and so does the time for some gardening.

Well, to Hana, it's always time for gardening. But she needs an extra hand this time of year, especially with the shop opening so soon. And of course, with no hesitation, I oblige.

For the moment, I help make lunch in the kitchen, gazing outside the window into the sunny garden. Alive with green and yellow and white.

Alive with the boy I love.

Sky runs his fingers through his hair, exhales a visibly large breath as he finishes mowing the lawn. With a swift movement, he lifts his dirty shirt over and off his head, his skin gleaming with sweat in the sunshine.

I look away and back to the vegetables I was tasked with chopping, my face warm, and I try to concentrate on making even cubes. But of course, I turn to look outside again.
Sky's eyes meet mine.
We smile at each other as we softly gaze, in the pensive sort of way, the careful sort of way.
The scar on his pectoral catches my eye. And I frown.
He bends his head so his face comes back into view, and grins reassuringly. Brightly.

I loose a breath and get back to my chopping.

Slowly, as the weeks passed, I forgot about that terrible night with Liam. Forgot, as in stopped thinking about it all the time. Now all that's left of the terror is a wistful kind of feeling, a concern whenever I remember, whenever I see his scar.

But he always smiles at me, like he did that night.

Shh, love...

Even when he was in pain, even as he struggled himself.

Angel... it's okay.

An urge, a wind sweeps into and past me, and I let go of the knife and run outside.

Sky seems to sense me coming, looking up from his work, and dropping the hose to the ground when he sees me running towards him.
"Sky!" I half-cry, and sigh, an unstoppable smile on my face as we connect, and he lifts me off the ground to spin me around.

These small pockets of overflowing emotion we share, seemingly out of nowhere, I'm not sure what they are, what they mean. Maybe feeling, caring, loving so intensely is new to both of us, and we just aren't used to it.
But as he hoists me up and I yelp, then quiet as I look down at his face, shining with the sun and his own light, I think I don't ever want either of us to get used to it.

My hand descends to cup his cheek, and graze the edge of his smile; the lips I still haven't kissed yet. He pecks the pad of my finger in a silent agreement.

I think once everything is known between us, once everything is said, then everything else will align. And I give him his time willingly, watching him bloom in the meantime.
"Studio today?" I ask.
He grins toothily. "A promise is a promise."

Sky hasn't shown me his dance in a while. After the night with Liam, he slowed down a bit, not laughing as loudly or smiling as much. He began zoning out in distant thought. Until I placed a hand on his arm, and he came back to me.
He promised me he'd show me a dance today. I was mostly worried he'd stop because of whatever's been bothering him; but of course, I'm also ecstatic to see him perform again.

"How's the choreo going with Ernesto?" I ask.
He sets my feet onto the ground, but holds me to him with fingers dancing at my back. "We're still deciding between songs," he sighs, clicking his tongue. "It's not easy to pick."
"Anything you do the crowd will love it," I reassure him, hand on his heart, "trust me."

Something magical happened; one night when we were in the studio together, Ernesto burst through the door with a rare smile. I'd never seen him that way.
Until he announced to Sky that he was going to be performing at the festival this summer. On stage. In front of an audience.