incandescent ²

08. cumulus

lauren

i don't know why in heaven's name i am yelling, and i don't know why on earth i'm yelling arden's name, and i don't know why the hell i'm actually excited to see him.

okay, maybe not excited, but less than sad.

today was a fairly good day if i can ignore all the times i felt like a burden to everyone i know because they keep having to baby me and act like i'm a fragile, disabled human who's barely even alive. the worst part is, it's all true.

arden's close enough for me to make out now, and i can see how disheveled his hair is. he's approaching me in a sort of gliding motion, and it's odd and kind of adorable.

i raise a hand timidly. "hi."

i didn't expect to see him tonight, just like how i hadn't seen him all the other times, but i did, i am seeing him, and i'm not even trying to hide my happiness. it's very disgusting.

i did not expect the confused look i get from him, and then i remember his amnesia, and i sigh.

"tonight just got hella high-key annoying," i whisper to myself. "wanna sit and talk?" i ask him. just because he might not know me anymore doesn't me i have to keep my distance.

does it?

he nods and i smile again.

"okay. let's go? we could just walk too, if that's what you want," i say, and then facepalm. "my words are jumbled up." he's still saying nothing, and it's irking me. the silence is cold, and icy, and it feels like i've been denied attention and warmth. it feels like hell, but after it's frozen over.

"are you ren?" is what i hear him say, and my smile widens to the point where it looks too fake to be real. i have never smiled like this, ever.

"lauren, ren. that's me. arden?"

he nods again. "i had the word written down on my arm and got super confused in the morning. t'was all i could think about at school, home, basically all day." he rolls up the sleeve of his flannel shirt, revealing the almost fully faded ink.

i can only see smudges, and it's too dark to try to make things out.

"i'm glad you're here," i choke out, waiting, keeping my eyes trained on him in order to gauge his first reaction. i expect a backward flinch or something, but i don't get that.

instead, his lips twitch, and he reaches into his trouser pocket. "i think i should write your name down again."

i watch him glide the pen over his skin, and then i look away. we have nothing to talk about, at least, that's what i think, and i don't think we should force a conversation.

on another note—a lower one—i just got confirmation today that i won't make it to my next birthday. but the thing is, doctors have been saying the same for years, and i'm not surprised when i hear it. i just can't not believe it, even though it's the same thing over and over. i feel worse with every passing day, and i know i shouldn't be here, with arden, trying to be friends with him at least, when i might die in a week—

but he doesn't remember things, and that's what makes this so perfect. if he can't recall memories of me when i'm gone, it'll be like i never existed—like he never met me—but i don't think i want that.