imagines ; d.t.

g.d. ; home is wherever you are.

YOUR POV
"Call me when you land?" I said against his chest. He nodded and kissed the top of my head, then pulled away to wipe his eyes.

My boyfriend of over four years, my childhood crush, my high-school sweetheart if I may, was leaving for college. More specifically, college that was thousands of miles away in Pennsylvania. We'd been slowly preparing for this one day when he would eventually have to leave for the past few months, and up until this moment it felt like we'd just forgotten about it in most ways. That didn't mean we were still subconsciously trying to extend the time we spent on dates or at each other's houses. It was aways in the backs of our minds, but now it was so real.

He nodded but said nothing, his cheek resting on the top of my head. His arms tightened around me, and I did the same. Maybe if I held him long enough, tight enough, the school of his dreams would suddenly be closer to our small town of Florland.

He had always had so much in store for himself, it was unreal. It was overwhelming, really. All the things he was good at, all the things he put in extra studying hours for when they weren't really necessary, just because he was so fascinated by them. He was so incredibly smart, so incredibly talented that I could basically see all the good things that were to come for him. But despite this, I knew there was no way in hell he'd ever be able to accomplish them all by living here, where the population is less than a thousand and weeds grow taller than trees.

I never had any intention of leaving, and knew that he would be the only reason I'd even consider it. This town didn't offer much, but what it did offer was enough for me. Family, friends, a strong sense of community. Schools that actually care about education and waiters in restaurants who always remember your name every time you walk in. It felt like home, but with him all the way across the country from here, I knew there'd always be something missing.

"Hey," I whispered, peeling his arms away and gently taking his face in my hands. His eyes were watery, and faintly bloodshot. "We're gonna work this out, okay? I know we will."

He nodded, and wrapped his arms around me again. I giggled and did the same, taking in every moment up until the bus came.

He'd offered several times for me to come with him, and all of which, he was dead serious. I wanted to, of course, but there were so many things keeping me from doing so. Money, lack of knowing what I want in life, family, etc. All things with simple solutions, but not all at once. I couldn't make money, find out what I wanted to do, and deal with my family in one span of a few months. He was the only thing I was sure of, which was scary. We'd never known life without each other.

The tires and engines came far too soon, and before we knew it, the bus was right there. Right next to us, ready to take him away from me and drive him to the nearest airport, where he was gonna start a whole new life for himself. A whole new life that didn't include me.

Neither of us knew when to let go, and the people that were exiting the bus were already long gone before we loosened our grip. "I love you, y/n. So much."

I sniffed and wiped my eyes as I watched him pick up his bags. "I love you too, Gray. Please don't forget about me." I smacked the side of his arm because the heavy feeling in the air was overwhelming, and I needed a sense of comedic relief. This wasnt this end, it was a pause. A short intermission before the show continues.

He smiled sadly one last time before he turned around and stepped onto the bus. A part of me hoped he'd turn around, at least glance at me, but he didn't, and maybe it was for the best. I kept my eyes glued to the bus the whole time he was making his way to his seat, the whole time the engine was starting up again, and the whole time it traveled down the street. It turned a corner after pausing at a stop sign, and that was it.

I wiped my eyes and stayed put, standing next to the bench people sat on when they waited for a bus. I sat down on the cold piece of wood and let out a breath of air, reaching into my pocket for the small cardboard box and lighter.

He was gone. He was really gone. No amount of cheap, gas station cigarettes would change that, and I knew this, but damn did they help just a little. I inhaled the toxins and breathed out the remnants, forming light smoke clouds. I stared down the street he'd just left from, stupidly hoping the bus would just so happen to take a pit stop down this street again.

I remembered all the nights he and I had spent trailing down this very road, walking directly in the middle of it as if cars wouldn't run us right over. Hand in hand, cigarettes in the other, spinning around and around and laughing like we were high on something. For no reason at all in particular, we were happy. We were just happy, and didn't know any other way to express it other than this. We'd skip down the sidewalks and twirl each other around, only to collapse in a field of grass a few towns away and make out under the oak trees.

We'd drive through towns blasting music and getting dirty looks from the locals, who probably would've called us "hoodlums" if we were within any audible distance. We'd stop and eat at century-old diners only to throw crumpled up straw wrappers at each other, and play table football with folded up napkins. We'd make pit stops of our own, wherever and whenever we could, just to enjoy life. I couldn't handle the thought of him on a bus, heading towns away, without me. No me in the passenger seat, no gas starions or thrift stores to stop at and stroll through.

He was about to make adventures of his own, on his own, in cities rather than towns, with people of much more importance than the ones around here, at least to themselves. Stuck up, big city people, who'll coax him into buying pricey tequila shots and set up interviews for jobs he doesn't want. Each time he'll come to visit, if he'll ever visit, he'll start to be more and more like them. It'll start with an expensive shirt he bought with his first paycheck and wants to show off, then he'll be showing up around here with Bentleys and diamond encrusted sunglasses.

I didn't want to see him that way. He was better than that, and I scolded myself for thinking for even a second that he'd be naive enough to be anything like those people. He loved his roots, he was proud of where he came from, and I knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't try to cover that up with the money he'll make.

I sighed up at the sky as I finished my cigarette, tapping off the last round of ashes. I dropped the butt and dug it into the ground with my heel. I was beginning to reach into my pocket for another one, until rapid footsteps and a familiar voice echoded off the outside walls of the corner stores. I stopped fighting around with the box and turned in the direction of all the ruckus to see Grayson sprinting down the street at top speed. I dropped the box all together and pushed myself off the bench, running to him just as fast as he was to me.

"Y/n!" He yelled out one last time before we collided, wrapping our arms around each other and laughing, when this was no laughing matter. He just got off the bus that was supposed to lead him to the airport, the airport that would then be sending him on a one-way flight to college. A career, a city, money. But instead, he was here. Not on that very important bus.

He pulled my face back just enough to kiss me, desperately and passionately, like it was the last time he'd ever do it. A few minutes ago, it was, I reminded myself.

"What are you doing here?" I whined against his lips, then reconnecting them directly after.

He smiled against my mouth and took my face in his hands, pushing back stray hands of hair. "I couldn't do it." Kiss, kiss, kiss. "I just couldn't."

"Grayson, you have to go to school," I said.

He shook his head. Kiss, kiss, kiss. "No, I can't."

"Why?" I asked, pushing the hair back out of his face.

"I just," he stopped to sniff and chuckle again, then kiss me once more. "I realized I'd rather be here, with you. In a small town with not a lot of opportunities than anywhere else in the entire world with everything handed to me on a silver platter."

"Gray," I whispered, shaking my head then kissing him again because I just couldn't help but not. "Grayson, grayson, grayson..."

"Y/n..."

"You loved that school though, you said it felt like home to you when you visited last summer."

He shook his head as well, pressing our foreheads together and breathing heavily over the lack of air in between kisses. "No, no, no ... home is wherever you are, y/n."