His & Mine | Sequel to Make It Known | DISCONTINUED

Chapter Forty-Four: Date

Chapter Forty-Four: Date

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Luke:

Rock concerts are so fricking loud.

I've been psyched for this concert since almost a year ago when I heard the Glorious Sons were coming to Toronto. And then Ophelia bought us tickets over Christmas, and so on the Saturday at the end of spring break, she and I go for dinner and then head to the Scotiabank arena to see the show.

The tickets aren't like, for really great seats. But I honestly don't care, because she bought them knowing that I love this band and that's what matters. My favourite music and my favourite person, at the same time? Sweet.

She looks really cute tonight, in those light-blue, skin-tight jeans and an over-sized Beatles t-shirt that I think she stole from her dad.

Downtown Toronto is as packed and lively as always. Show starts at eight, so I pick her up at six and it takes us forever to find parking, and then we have dinner, then wander hand-in-hand down Bay Street past all the bars and restaurants and shops.

Arena snacks are really fricken expensive. We pass a brightly-coloured candy store on the way and she gets all excited and tugs me inside, and we end up spending way too much money on bags of gummies and sour-chews and ten different other kinds of random candy. We stash them at the very bottom of her tote bag beneath all her crap (did you know that she brings a book with her everywhere?) so they don't find it when we go through security.

"Do you want anything?" I ask her as we find our seats, some time after eight as the opening acts are still warming up. We sit back in the chairs and kind of on instinct, we lean towards each other, she rests her hand on my thigh and I wrap an arm around her and I'm super glad this stupid armrest/cup-holder thing pushes up out of the way, because I can't seem to be around her without touching her.

"I'm good, thanks." Her fingers wind themselves with mine and she rests her head against my shoulder and she smells like Ophelia and I swear it's the best smell in the world.

Actually, uh. There's one other smell I think I like just as much, but, we'll call it a tie.

The concert ends up being close to two hours long with just a quick break in the middle. Ophelia did her homework, apparently, because I catch her humming and bouncing along to some of the songs and it's lowkey adorable because their music is a little... uh. Gritty, I guess. Kinda the opposite of her bright, pure, sweet, innocent, bubbly personality, so it's funny to see her getting into it too.

I think she wants to like them because I like them, and she loves me.

I don't really know how to explain how, the way she loves me, looks at me like I'm her world, makes me feel invincible and... high. Like, how could anything be bad in my life when she's there and she's with me and we're together? Like I said, I don't know how to explain it very well, except maybe to say that she's like the brightest, happiest part of every day and every night and... fuck. Anyway.

"I love this one," she murmurs near my ear as the guitar intro for one of their softer tracks floats through the stadium. People sit back down into their seats for it. It's kinda a sad one, but poetic, I guess, so I can see why it'd be her favourite.

Her hand clutches mine and near the end, as the lead singer rasps the lyrics, "It doesn't matter, wherever your heart leads / You'll be right here, always a part of me," I guess we're thinking the same thing because we turn towards each other and our noses slide together and then our lips meet and I swear it's so stupidly fucking cheesy but she's... it. Everything, always, and it makes my chest hurt sometimes.