Chapter Text
Polaroids flooded the pages of the thick, red album- some had the same thing taken twice, blurry pictures, and all that. Basil kept them, though. Basil kept every single memory of Sunny that he could capture.
Every. Single. One.
All his love for Sunny had to go somewhere.
And even then, all three hundred-odd pages felt like nothing compared to the real thing. No. In front of Sunny, his heart would race, his mind would fog, his legs would carry him no longer.
Even flipping through these pages- these mere ghosts of Sunny he'd collected over a year or so, he felt his heartbeat quickening. Slightly. But he could feel it.
This was an album he'd never dare to open in front of anyone. This was a secret kept between him and his camera alone.
His fingers worked quickly, flipping the thick, starchy pages until he reached a blank sheet. There was a good chunk of pages yet to be filled.
Next to (yet another) picture of Sunny snoozing away, was a torn out page of a flowery mini-calendar. In red, a circle enclosed a date- January 4th. A date he just couldn't bear to miss.
It had been a year since he moved away.
Sunny turned seventeen last July. And Basil would be turning eighteen this February.
Time really flies, he thought.
January 4th. Sunny would be coming to Faraway Town to stay.
For a week.
Basil's eyes kept drawing him to the picture of Sunny dozing away on the couch. His eyes were closed, his mouth was in a slight pout, and he was wrapped up cozily in a blanket he'd asked him to bring.
He asked him that day. He wanted Basil's blanket to keep him warm, he wanted his and no one else's. Not Aubrey's. Not Kel's, not even his own-
God-fucking-damnit, thought Basil, burying his head into the pillow. How could he be able to stand in front of Sunny without practically keeling over and dying? How could he even be alone with him without saying anything stupid? Anything that would make him hate him?
No. Sunny would never hate him.
Right?
Excited wasn't the proper word for his state now. The words that did come to mind were giddy, manic, yearning. Sick.
The word 'lovesick' rang a bell.
That word also invoked the image of crazy people.
He'd watched thrillers and various shows before with Sunny- the boy always had a taste for violent things. Boy-crazy girls with their hair up in twin-tails, dolled up in school uniforms going after their love rivals, armed with axes and knives and whatnot. Things like that.
Oddly enough, there weren't enough boys doing the same thing.
Sunny seemed to like them quite a lot. The colors they tended to use fit him very well. Blood-red, black, pure white and various shades of purple. They weren't quite to Basil's taste, but that was only proof they complemented each other.
However, the Victorian-themed one that he watched was wonderful. And Sunny had picked it out for him. It was like he knew him in every way.
Fuck...
One entire week. He wanted to shout for sheer joy.
---
The next morning.
After his routine of pottering around the house, tending to his garden (he'd added labels identifying each and every plant), Basil stood outside his bedroom window, watering his white tulips. He'd saved the best for last.
He took care of all his flowers, of course. But somehow....somehow, his mind kept nudging him to those tulips. To Sunny. It was those flowers that resided in his mind, in his heart.
The breeze was cold, and the sky was gray. Winter had arrived.
He felt his camera hanging low from his neck on a brown strap.
He tilted the watering can above the final bunch. The scanty sun just had to fall right on the little shower, sprinkling it with diamonds. It just made those flowers look even more perfect. There they were, growing serenely in the dirty white planter-box he kept a close watch on.
Basil set down his blue watering can. Sunny. All he could think about was Sunny.
He thought about the date on the large calendar that hung up on his wall.
January 4th, 4th of January. Jan 4 on the calendar.
The big day.
He'd encircled the date there, too. Don't miss, he'd written.
He took out a label from his pocket. It read,
White Tulip
Tulipa gesneriana
He'd been getting acquainted with the botanical names of plants as of late.
The distant hum of a vehicle. Basil paid no heed to it, it was just the usual noise of Faraway Town. After the tulips were well taken care of, he'd wait for his tulip to arrive.
There was the hum again.
Wait.
Why was it getting louder?
It suddenly reduced itself to a soft purr.
Could it be? He turned right around, and gawked at the car that had parked itself in front of his house. Polly was hurrying outside from the front door.
"And you three came all the way here, hello!" was her cheerful greeting.
He's here, thought Basil.
Already?
His heart was beginning to race.
Sunny's mother stepped out of the black car, very noticeable in the scarlet dress she was wearing today. Her string of pearls screamed 'fresh from the suburb', even though they'd gone to the city a while ago.
Basil kept staring at Polly receiving the family.
Mari was next to come, carrying along a little cloth sling-bag that resembled a Frosted Cherry Pop-tart more than anything.
And trailing behind, like his sister's raven hair- was Sunny.
He's here, he's here, thought Basil.
Sunny's gaze was glued firmly down to the ground. He seemed to blend right into the scene, wrapped up cozily in an oversized black sweater for the winter.
He'd clearly let his black, fluffy hair grow a bit. It tickled his chin now as he stood there, behind his sister and mother as Polly received them. Was...was that a black stud in his right ear? It did look like it.
Oh, handsome.
Quick as lightning, Basil readied his camera and snapped yet another picture of Sunny.
Perfect. He'd treasure this one underneath his pillow.
Everything else seemed to be a noise in the background, the rustling of the leaves, the dance of the bushes in the gentle wind, all the hellos and how-have-you-beens. They didn’t matter.
Basil had absolutely no clue how long he kept staring at that soft, pretty face. He felt like a deer in the headlights, standing there.
So many thoughts, some too embarrassing to put into words.
"What made you three come here first?" he heard Polly asking.
"Well Sunny here-" said the mother, "Sunny?"
Basil cracked a smile. Of course this would happen.
Mari and her mother turned back, only to find Sunny just standing there.
"There you are." teased Mari, tousling his hair. "Blending in as usual, knucklehead."
"Mariiii...." grumbled the boy.
The girl turned to Polly. "It was Sunny's idea."
"Was it, now?"
"He insisted. "
He watched as Sunny abruptly took his gaze off the ground, as if snapping back to real life. His black eyes roved around the house- as if searching for something.
What was he looking for? Basil followed his gaze as he scoured the area. He looked like he was concentrating, room after room, window after window.
Realization dawned as Sunny leaned a bit to the side.
Shit. Basil felt himself shrinking- Sunny's gaze had locked onto him.
Without even a thought, Basil pocketed the polaroid and took off to the front door like a scurrying rabbit.