Two Pieces of a Puzzle ✔

Chapter Ten

ELIOTT

The digital clock on my nightstand read with bold red letters which were almost threatening: 3:52am.

Even then, I wasn't tired. 

I could never get tired of the sound of his voice. 

"And then I said.. hey, are you still listening?"

"'Course I am, why wouldn't I be?"

"It's getting late and all that so.. are you not tired?" he questioned, concern laced in his tone. 

"Not really," I admitted. "Finish your story."

"Hm, y'know what? Forget about my story. I've been talking about myself for too long now, tell me something about yourself."

"Like?"

"Like.. your favourite person? Your favourite memory? Favourite place? Favourite food? Anything really, I'll listen regardless."

I would tell you, Eric.. er- Elias. 

I really would. 

But how could I when everything is linked to you? 

How could I tell you when everything points right back to you?

How do I make you believe I'm not hurting even when I am?

When even my favourite song is the one we listened to together under a tree during fall, watching as the dead leaves dropped down one after the other, performing a graceful waltz on their way down?

When even my favourite movie is the one we watched together on your old laptop at four in the morning in the blanket fort we had spent hours building?

When even my favourite place is the lake we frequently visited, only to talk about anything and everything for hours on end whilst you tossed those rocks into the water just to watch the ripples?

When even my favourite food is the cookies you tried so hard to bake for me - and even though they were burnt, they tasted heavenly because it was you that had made them?

When even my favourite person is you? 

"There's not much to say," I lied. "My life's boring. Don't even remember much of it. Can't even remember what I had for breakfast yesterday."

"That's because what you had for breakfast yesterday doesn't matter. You can tell me about the things that really matter. Come on, it's just me."

It's just me.

Exactly.

But it's not 'just' you.

It's you.

"Hey, what are your thoughts on Riopy?" I inquired in an attempt to change the topic.

"Riopy?" he repeated. "Can't say I've ever heard that name before."

"He's a pianist," I informed. "Have you heard his music?"

"Don't think so," he began. "I don't really listen to instrumental music, doesn't tickle my fancy."

Doesn't tickle my fancy.

"You keep using the words that people no longer say," I said with a quiet chuckle. 

"If that will make me different from other people, then so be it."

"Why do you want to be different from other people?"

"I've lived my entire life wanting to be different," he admitted, the subject suddenly taking a turn. "Just to.. feel noticed? I guess you could say that. Yeah, pretty much - noticed."

"Did you get what you wanted?" 

He waited for a moment, then let out a soft sigh, "Don't think so."

Amidst my train of thoughts, I casually blurted out, "I've noticed you."

He didn't respond for a second; then two seconds; then five; then ten.

"I've noticed you too, Eliott," he finally whispered. 

I said nothing. 

I simply basked in the glory of having found my lost lover again. I sat, my back pressed against the headboard of my bed, a wide grin on my face - and for the first time in ten years, my heart had stopped aching. 

"Hey, Eliott?"

"Yeah, Er-.. Elias?"

He didn't notice. 

"Can I call you Eli?"

My heart began to race - no, it began to leap more like. It leaped into the furthest dimension and to the point of no return and danced with the endless possibilities of how all this could turn out. 

So many possibilities, but I was sure of nothing. 

"Sorry, is that-"

"No!" I managed to say. "You can call me whatever you'd like. But wouldn't that be confusing since your nickname is Eli as well?"

"I prefer being called Elias," he admitted. "Good eye, though."

I nodded as if he could see me, and said nothing else. 

"Does being called Eli make you uncomfortable?"

"Want me to be honest?"

"Is that asking for too much?"

"Not really," I sighed. "Just reminds me of someone I can't seem to forget."

"Is it alright if I ask you who this someone is?"

"An acquaintance, a friend, a potential lover, the only person I ever really trusted, the only person who ever really believed in me - you name it."

"Oh," he let out before clearing his throat. "Sorry, didn't mean to make you recollect bad memories."

"They're not bad at all," I interrupted. "And that's what sucks because I wish they were. Because maybe if they were bad, I wouldn't still be thinking about it."

"That's not true," he interrupted. "Maybe it is for you, who knows? But if it were a bad memory, you'd take it to your grave. People never really forget the bad things that happen to them."

"I'd rather this memory be bad than good in all honesty."

"Why do you say that?"

"So I can hate him," I confessed, not knowing whether the reason behind my brutal honesty was to be blamed on the hour, or how much I trusted Elias. 

I was talking about him, after all.

"I want to hate him so bad," I continued. "But I can't - and that's what sucks. He was such an important person to me and.. and that's what sucks. I shouldn't have gotten attached."

"You can't blame your heart for getting attached to someone," he said. 

"I know. I can only blame myself."

"Same thing. Your heart is a part of you."

I didn't have an answer for that. 

We changed the topic eventually and continued talking about things that would never matter. 

I went to bed without looking at the moon that day.