Moonbow | Tyrus

Twelve

TJ's POV

I look up at the sky, the wooden railings of the bridge framing my vision. The stream flitters through the rocks a couple metres below, the sound of the rushing water taking over the air. The sun is nearly gone, but the heat from the day lingers on every surface. Emerging stars through the clouds dance in the sky like fairies twirling to a song I can't hear. I'm okay with not hearing, though. The only music I need is the rhythm of Cyrus's heartbeat thumping under my palm as he rests his head on my chest, holding my hand over his heart.  

We both lie on the bridge perpendicular to each other, me sprawled out parallel to the bridge, and him on a right angle, his knees dangling over the edge of the wooden planks. The way we are right now is so comfortable, just us existing in silence, but I also love the sound of Cyrus's voice, which is why I don't mind when he does break the quiet by speaking. 

"What are you thinking right now?" he asks me. 

I like it when he asks things like that, broad and random and completely intentional. He is going to listen to my answer, because he wants to know it. He only asks me questions when he wants to know the answer. He would never waste his breath on something that wasn't of the utmost importance to him. 

"I'm thinking," I utter, "that I'm the luckiest guy in the world. What are you thinking?"

He tilts his head to me and replies, "Your mom makes really good chocolate chocolate chip muffins."

I smile at that, letting out a little chuckle. "Well, she loves having you around, so I'm sure you can come by anytime to get one."

"I know what I'm doing everyday from now on," he says with a giggle. 

"That means you'll have to pay me back by getting your parents to make muffins for me."

A puff of air releases from him as his smile drops, and I realize why what I said was wrong within a couple seconds. In my dreamy state, I had forgotten completely that him and I are not in the same boat when it comes to our families' acceptance. 

"If they ever make muffins, I'll try to sneak an extra for you," Cyrus says after a minute. 

He's trying to be positive, but he's obviously glum, and I feel like it's my fault. 

"I'm sorry," I say. 

"You didn't do anything," he assures me. "I should just tell them. It's been long enough. I'm just...worried they'll be mad."

I don't know what to say to that, but I do want to make him feel better, so rather than say anything, I simply slide out from under his head and push myself up onto my feet. Cyrus looks up, confused and a little frightened. 

"Are you leaving?" he asks in, fear in his voice. 

"What? No."

I take out my cell phone and open up my Spotify to pick a song I've been listening to on repeat lately: "Swim" by DIZZY. The music ripples from the tiny speaker as I set my phone down on the bridge and reach out, offering my hand to Cyrus. Curious, he takes it, and I help him up to his feet. Then I lift one of his hands up and clasp it through mine, putting my other arm around his waist. 

"What are you doing?" he says with a smile. 

"Getting your mind onto something brighter."

Accepting my response, he steps in and follows my lead as I start swaying from side to side slowly. While we dance, the trees stop and turn their leaves to watch us, the river halts in place to gaze up at our movement, and the air makes space for us to glide through it like dandelions riding the wind. After a moment, I step away and bring his arm over his head for him to spin beneath. He does so with a laugh and returns back to me, even closer this time, resting his head on my shoulder.