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α The light dances in your eyes. Cherries painting your cheeks as you laugh and laugh and laugh.
I can’t help but watch. The halo around you making me holy again as I fall on my knees.
I can’t help but wish. The world may finally stop spinning, trapping us in this moment. A photograph that will never fade.
You, holy and happy and immortal.
Me, a sinner with hands too small to hold this love that is leaking out of my chest. Day by day. Drop by drop. Dream by dream.
Us, two people forever tied and destined to never truly know each other. To never see each other. To never have each other.
The light dances in your eyes. And I wish you loved me.
*
“Oh my god!”
Chimney’s eyes snapped open over his cup of coffee. His head twisted from side to side to assess the upcoming danger.
“What? What’s happening?” He frantically looked around, eyes stopping once he found Hen’s, twinkling behind her glasses and focused on whatever she had been reading. With a long sigh, he sat at the table and took a sip of his coffee with his face propped on one hand.
“What’s wrong with her?” Buck asked in a whispered tone that was full of curiosity and too loud to not be heard. The pan in front of him was sizzling with the scent of tomato sauce and herbs as he leisurely prepared lunch. They were almost at the end of a long shift filled with exhausting calls, and despite the love and care he always put inside his meals, he did not have the strength for anything elaborate. Buck cracked his neck, and Chimney turned to glance his way with raised brows. He then shook his head and murmured something about spine fractures before going back to his coffee with the face of a man who could not wait to go home.
“Oh, this is… wow.” Buck frowned as he glanced at Hen over his shoulder. She was sitting on the edge of the couch, a small book held tight between her hands as she slowly made her way through the pages. The cover seemed to be a simple set of lines, shades of blues, greys and black overlapping one on top of the other. She was sitting too far for him to make out the title or the name of the author. After a moment of silence, her mouth opened and closed, her eyes widening while she kept on reading. “It's… wow.”
“What’s ‘wow’?” Eddie appeared at the top of the stairs, finally showered and changed after their latest call. Eddie was one of the unlucky two who had picked the shortest straw when they had been tasked with rescuing a man who had broken a leg while adventuring into the sewage system.
Buck shrugged at the question, mind drifting back to the sizzling pan and the pot of boiling water while the conversation blurred in the background. He wondered if the pasta would be enough or if he needed to make a salad. His debate turned into an internal argument between his tired body and his worried mind while the others kept talking behind him.
“Karen gifted her a book.” Chimney answered around a yawn, rubbing one eye before taking a long sip from his cup. Eddie made his way towards the kitchen, rummaging around for plates and forks after taking a look at what Buck had been cooking.
“A book?” He frowned, glancing at the woman who was quite literally blushing before closing said book and staring at the nothingness in front of her feet. Eddie stopped with the last fork in his hand, eyes fixed on her as she quite literally squealed before opening the book once more. After a couple of blinks, he put the fork down and went back to the cupboards to retrieve some glasses.
“You have to hear this.” Hen sat down in front of Chimney, the book once again open in front of her face as she skimmed through the pages while mumbling under her breath. “Where was it?”
“It’s a book of poems.” Chimney whispered loudly while Eddie sat down at his side.
“Love poems.” Ravi corrected him with a sigh, as he appeared out of thin air and took his place next to Hen. His hair was wet and dripping, hands gently rubbing a towel on his head while he leaned back with a sigh. He had been the other one who had been lawfully selected to go down the sewing system. Apparently he had tripped over something that had made him lose his balance and fall back into whatever kind of water ran inside the sewers. Everyone had laughed, and after a while Ravi had joined in with a small smile.
“She’s been gushing about it the whole shift.” Eddie hummed at Chimney’s annoyed expression. He turned to Hen with a smile that widened when she let out a victorious whoop after finally finding whatever she had been looking for.
“Okay, okay. Now, you all have to listen to this.” She cleared her throat, her voice lowering in a soft whisper as she read the poem out loud. “I am not jealous, for jealousy would imply that you’re mine. I am envious, instead.”
The words reached Buck’s tired mind in a muffled array of sounds. He blinked, turned off the stove, and then glanced at the others. There was a deep silence surrounding them, but not the type made of sorrow and grief. It was something charged with confusion and expectation, bated breath caught between slow blinking eyes. It was the kind of silence they had yet to learn how to wear again, like a favourite sweater you find by chance, worn by time and stitched with love.
He smiled as he put the bowl full of pasta at the centre of the table before sitting next to Chimney. The spot at the head of the table was empty, and Buck smiled wistfully at the chair before taking a sip of water while they waited for Hen to continue.
“I envy the sun, free to kiss your skin every morning. I envy—“ Hen stopped, lifting her eyes in disbelief. Buck was coughing, one hand splayed on his chest and the other covering his mouth as his cheek reddened with a mixture of embarrassment and lack of air.
“You okay?” Eddie asked from his spot, chair moving as he got ready to reach his friend. Buck waved a hand, lips bending into a smile as his eyes locked with Eddie’s.
“Don’t mind me.” The words came out with a rasp, and he cleared his throat in a futile attempt to save himself from curious glances and worried looks. “Just go on.”
“Yeah.” Hen clicked her tongue and looked back at the page. The shattered silence was slowly stitched together by her voice. “I envy the sun, free to kiss your skin every morning. I envy the moon, solitary companion of your dreams. I envy the rain, free to run into your locks and gently kiss your lips.”
“Oh.” Ravi shushed Chimney, who looked slightly affronted. When his eyes met Hen’s impatient gaze, he shook his head and signalled her to continue. Once more, Hen sighed and cleared her throat before continuing.
“I envy the wind, for it can touch your skin, make you shiver in ways I will never be allowed to. I am envious of the laughter that was not born from my nudge. I am envious of the love you will never direct my way.” She looked up from the written words, pleased to find her teammates with their eyes either closed or lost as they breathed in the feelings that the poem was bleeding through the page.
“If you were mine,” she continued with a whisper, smiling at the next passage. “I would treasure every gaze. I would carry your smiles inside my pockets like pebbles, shining on the side of a roaring river. Small, perfect, and sometimes warm as they sit in the palm of my hand. But you are not mine. And you never will. So I remain here. Waiting. Bleeding. Envious of your never love.”
She closed the book and gently put it on the table with a deep sigh. No one spoke, air heavy with words unsaid and befuddled thoughts as she watched her friends get lost in their heads. She was smiling, happy to have broken down a wall in some of them. To see their minds welcome something that was so dear and important for her.
“Nice one. Let’s eat.” The silence shattered like a panel of glass falling on a rock.
“Buck, come on!” Buck froze with his fingertips twitching a few millimetres from the bowl. “We were having a contemplation moment, man.”
“Chim’s right, that was a great poem. And poems are not really my thing.” Ravi added with a nod, eyes getting lost on the ceiling as he leaned back and absently rubbed his head with the towel. “Who’s the author?”
“Unknown. I tried to look online, but all I know is that it’s a pseudonym.” Hen held up the small book, and they quizzically looked at it. “The title’s ‘Everything I never said’. And the author—”
“John Smith?” Eddie read with a small smile. “Yeah, that’s surely fake.”
“Maybe it’s real.”
“Sounds fake to me.” Chimney dismissed Buck’s comment with a shake of his head, tongue clicking against his teeth. “There’s no way a real person called John Smith wrote that.”
“Then it must be someone who loves their privacy.” Buck shrugged as he filled his plate. “Not everyone wants to be famous, hence the invention of pseudonyms.”
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want my name on something like this.” Hen reasoned with a shake of her head.
“How come?” Buck asked before filling his mouth with food. She frowned at the pink dusting his cheeks, blue eyes roaming around his plate before finding hers once more.
“Some of these are really intimate, and the idea of people in my life knowing I wrote this and literally put my soul and personal feelings on paper like that… I don’t know. It would make me feel weird.” She shook her head once more, accepting the bowl from Chimney and quickly filling her plate. He pointed at the book and wriggled his fingers. She smiled as she ignored Ravi’s expectant hands and left the bowl in Eddie’s hold before passing the book to Chimney.
“What do you think inspired someone to write a poem like that?” Eddie wondered aloud, filling his plate and then smiling at Ravi as he passed him the bowl.
“Unrequited love, given the title and what I’ve read so far.” Hen answered with a sigh. “The emotions are so strong you can almost feel this person speaking through the page.”
“Wow.” Chimney’s eyes widened, fork clanking on the plate as he grabbed the book with both hands. “You have to hear this one.”
“What?” Buck’s eyes widened as he noticed the mirthful look on Chimney’s face. He was smirking with a glee that made him shiver in apprehension.
“At night I dream. I dream of you.” Chimney chuckled, clearing his throat before continuing. “I dream what would be if we leaned against each other. If we gave in that feeling that I know inhabits only my heart. Beating at the rhythm of your existence. Now it gets interesting.”
The silence enveloped them like a blanket woven in bathed breaths and expectant gazes. No one noticed Buck’s flaming face, heat lapping at his cheeks. He hid his laboured breath behind a long sip of water, looking at the others who were slowly eating while listening to Chimney’s low voice.
“Maybe your lips would taste of unspoken promises. Of words I don’t dare say. Of breaths I would gladly trade for one more moment in your presence. Maybe your skin will tremble under my touch. Under my tongue. Under the sensation of my lips trailing down your body.”
“Dios…” Everyone looked at Eddie, his face turning redder under their amused gazes. His wide eyes were blinking rapidly, as if trying to dissipate the image his mind was slowly painting inside his skull.
“And this is not the best part, bud.” Chim cleared his throat, his own cheeks pink as he looked back at the words on the page. “Maybe your voice will echo my name in the darkness. Shaking with every broken breath. Shaking like your legs around my waist.”
Chimney cleared his throat, and Hen smiled slyly at him. She had probably read the words before, her glimmering eyes roaming around as she basked in their reactions. “At night I dream. Your body against mine. Our souls one as I breathe into your open lips. Red with the blood of my love. Red like your name on my tongue, the only prayer I have ever known. I dream of soft skin. Quivering thighs. Lustful eyes. Your soul singing as you shake with the pleasure I give you. At night I dream. And when I dream, I hope to never wake up.”
Chimney closed the book and passed it over the half-empty bowl of pasta with a trembling hand. Buck watched the exchange with a slow, deep inhale before exhaling out of his nose. At least his reaction would be written down as the effect of hearing the heat of those words for the very first time. No one was going to think that his flush would have been caused by the memory of reading them in the darkness of his loft, surrounded by love, yearning and grief. He had a dream, one that he had uselessly tried to hold in the palm of his hand. The memory had slipped away between his fingers, sand falling and falling and falling while the images disappeared like the blood from the edge of an open wound. The words of the poem echoed inside his brain, images fading once again from his mind as he tried to close his fists and grip the present. His chest was heavy, and he focused on that feeling, letting go of the past.
“Whoever wrote this…” Buck looked up from his plate to Eddie’s eyes. He had gulped and was shaking his head. The pink was slowly fading from his cheeks, eyes lost and mouth tilted in a sad line as he shrugged and looked down at his food. “Sounds like they're in pain at the end. I don’t envy them.”
The comment was met with a few hums and nods, eyes lost in contemplation while the sound of silverware slowly hitting the plates filled the heavy silence.
“So… change of topics?” Ravi’s question was followed by a smiling Chimney who took the chance and launched himself into a tale of his son’s latest accomplishments. He quickly put his fork down, phone in his hand, as he proudly showed off baby pictures around the table that was soon filled with cooing sounds and compliments.
Buck smiled and sighed in relief, his gaze quickly moving from Hen’s discarded book to Chimney’s face. His eyes were so full of love Buck could almost feel himself drown in it, the emotion washing over his muscles like hot water after a cold, rainy day. His body relaxed, his mind forgetting about the poems and the awkward reading session as he silently prayed for the matter to disappear like all other topics of conversation. Dust in a whirlwind of words and unfinished phrases.
*****
“I think it’s a woman.” Hen’s voice was distant, and Buck frowned at the phrase as he got closer to the top. “A homosexual woman, given what I just told you.”
“Why? Can’t a man express emotions too?” Chimney’s question was followed by an odd cough. When Buck finally reached the top of the stairs, he saw that the man was trying not to choke over a bite of a muffin he was holding in his hand. The other one covered his mouth while he chewed before speaking again. “Maybe a gay man, given what you just told me.”
“Morning.” Buck took a look at the box full of muffins, grabbing one and biting into it with a delighted hum.
“Good morning to you, thief.” Chimney glared his way. Buck froze with the muffin in his hand, eyes wide and full cheeks reddening by the second as he glanced between the muffins and Hen, eyes pleading for help.
“Don’t look at me.” She smiled with her hands raised in a surrender gesture. Her left one was clutching the small, infamous book. “Someone left them for Chim, and the note just says something about late congratulations for having a son.”
“Oh.” Buck covered his mouth as he resumed chewing. “They’re good.”
“Very good.” Chimney agreed around a large bite. His next words came out of his mouth accompanied by small crumbles. “Gotta find out who did it and thank them.”
“Were you discussing this?”
“What?” Hen raised a confused brow at Buck’s question. He pointed at the muffins, then waved his hand between Hen and Chimney. After biting the last piece of muffin, he munched, swallowed, and spoke again.
“I heard you talking about a 'homosexual woman'?” The phrase came out like a question, his lips furrowing into a pout when Chimney swatted his hand the moment he tried to reach out for seconds. “Hey!”
“I'd like to bring some home.” He commented with an arm wrapped around the box of baked goods, not unlike a thief protecting his gold.
“Maybe give one to Eddie and Ravi when they get here?” Hen commented with a raised brow.
“Eddie’s not coming today.” Buck shook his head, walking towards the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee.
“Switched with someone from B-shift to get the weekend off. It’s his aunt’s birthday.” Chimney continued with a nod. “And Ravi will never know about the muffins.”
“How nice of Eddie to care for all his family.” Hen commented with a warm smile. Her lips turned into a grin as she looked at Chimney and then nodded towards Buck with a knowing look. Chimney frowned, then turned in his chair. The snicker almost tumbled past his lips as he took in the awestruck look on his friend’s face.
“He’s such a family man.” Chimney added with a huffed chuckle that turned out to be more air than sound. Buck blinked awake from his thoughts, smile slipping from his lips.
“Yeah… he is.” He nodded, confused by the sudden mirthful mood falling on their heads. It felt like a cool breeze of fresh air, but he also felt stuck between one breath and the next as he tried to find the pun to a joke he had failed to hear.
“To answer your question, Buck.” Hen attracted his attention by waving the book in her hands. “We were talking about the poems.”
“Ah.” His chest filled with ice when he saw Hen frown at his lack of reaction. “I mean. I’m not too much a fan of them, you know.”
“Oh, we know.” Chimney said with a smile before finishing his second muffin. “You almost died by swallowing water when Hen brought them up the first time.”
“Ah, ah, ah.” Buck deadpanned with a smile.
“Anyway.” Hen was clearly trying to stir the conversation back to the main topic, and Buck held back a sigh. “We were debating on who the author could be.”
He frowned with the cup raised to his mouth. “And you think they're a homosexual woman? Why not a man?”
“See?” Chimney pointed at him with his whole hand, gaze fixed on Hen as she huffed and rolled her eyes. “Why not a man?”
“Would either of you ever be able to even think something like this? Something so… profound? Or something even half as profound as these words?” Her question was met with silence, and Buck hid behind the brim of his cup. He took a deep gulp and then licked his lips.
“Maybe, if I were in love, I could write something like that.” The words left his mouth before he could bite down on his slippery tongue. Hen and Chimney turned to face him like a pair of owls blinking at their prey, tension brimming under his skin like lava ready to explode. The roaring laughter echoed around and enveloped him in a warmth made of embarrassment and guilt.
“Good… morning?” Ravi appeared at the top of the stairs, gaze twinkling in the light with a mixture of confusion and astonishment. He froze on the spot, looking from Hen’s sprawled form on the couch to Chimney, who was lying on the table on top of a box. Then, he met Buck’s gaze, who shook his head with pink slowly crawling up his cheeks. The uncontrollable laughter slowly turned into giggles and then into breathless gasps of air. The mood was light, and Ravi walked towards the coffee pot with a spring in his step.
“Hey, Ravi!” Chim smiled between one giggle and the other. “Can you see… can you imagine Buck writing love poems?”
“These poems!” Hen added with a huff, waving the book still clutched in her hand. Ravi blinked at her question, then looked at Buck with both eyebrows climbing high on his forehead.
“Don’t ask.” He whispered as he handed Ravi his favourite mug. The answer he received was a curt nod and a badly hidden smirk as Ravi filled his cup with coffee before turning back to the conversation at hand.
Despite the uncomfortable feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach, Buck could not stop smiling as he leaned against the counter and looked at his friends. Ravi quickly joined in on the joke, siding with Hen as soon as they went back to discussing the unknown author’s gender and sexual preferences. Buck shook his head with a sigh, eyes raising to the sky before taking a last sip of coffee and abandoning his mug on the table as they rushed downstairs. He silently thanked whoever had been listening to his prayers, for the bell had gone off at the perfect time, finally bringing the conversation to an end.
Maybe, with time, their curiosity would melt like an ice cream on a hot summer day. Maybe, after Hen finally finished reading the book, she would abandon it on the top of a very high shelf. One of those filled with forgotten tomes, destined to collect dust and cobwebs.
Maybe, if someone was truly listening, everyone would soon stop talking about those poems.
*****
The door closed behind him with a small, quiet sound. The moonlight made its way through the window like spilled milk, softening the edge of the darkness filling the house with shadows.
Toeing off his shoes, he slowly put the bag on the ground and made his way towards the bedroom. A soft light was still on, the sound of paper rustling meeting his ears as he entered with a smile already blooming on his face.
“Hey.” Maddie’s expression was warm and soft. Her back was propped against the headboard, covers pulled over her legs as she put down the book to smile up at him.
“Hi.” Making his way around her side of the bed, Chimney leaned in for a quick kiss. He took a step back before she could stain her hand by trying to reach out for him. His skin was still filthy with the remnants of their last call, a fire that had taken way too long to be sedated and put to sleep.
“You haven’t showered?” Maddie wrinkled her nose, a smile blooming on her face as he shook his head in denial.
“I abandoned the paperwork and got out before the bell could ring again.” Her laugh was breathy, his eyes full of her beauty. “I’ll go take a shower now. But it won’t be quick, so you can sleep if you want.”
“I’ll wait.” She shook her head, hands curling around the book in her lap as she raised it back in front of her face. “I’m in good company.”
“Not you too.” His eyes widened in disbelief at the title on the cover, head shaking as he smiled at her confused expression. “Hen’s obsessed with those poems.”
“What do you mean?”
“Karen gifted her a copy of this book, and she cannot stop talking about it. Like… all the time. Almost every minute of every shift unless she's busy with something.” Maddie smiled, fingers running over the cover. Seeing her fond expression, Chimney tilted his head and wondered aloud, “How are you finding them?”
Maddie’s eyes snapped up at him as if waking up from a memory. She smiled and then nodded with a glint in her gaze. “I like them a lot. They’re so full of emotion and depth.”
“Yeah, from what Hen told me, they're surely something.” He frowned. Then his eyes softened at the edges, the corner of his lips curling with curiosity. “Hey, would you lend me that book? Just for a day or two.”
Maddie frowned again. His smile widened at the cute scrunch of her nose. “What for?”
“I just want to read some of these poems and see what got you and Hen so interested.” He shrugged, and Maddie smiled with a nod.
“Of course. Now go, and take that shower before the whole house smells like a burning building.”
“Yes, ma’am!” He straightened in a salute before turning around and marching out of the room. Muffled laughter following him all the way to the bathroom and under the warm spray of water.
**
“I get it now.”
“What?” Maddie pulled the covers over her legs, stretching with sleep gently crowding the corner of her eyes. She yawned, slowly lowering her head on the pillow as she looked at her husband from under eyelids heavy with the promise of dreams.
“These poems are so… I don’t even have a word for it.” Chimney waved the book around, looking at Maddie with the eyes of someone who had loved, lost, and then learnt how to live again in the span of a few hours. And all thanks to the magic of words printed on papers. “There are so many feelings.”
“Yeah.” Maddie looked at the book in Chimney’s hand. He had almost reached the end, and it had only been a couple of days since he had stolen it from her bedside table. With a smile, she reached out and snatched it from his hands.
“Hey—“
“Wait.” She raised a finger, skimming through the pages until her eyes glimmered with recognition. She tapped a page, her gaze running to Chimney with a smile blooming wide on her lips. “You have to read this one again. It’s my favourite.”
Chimney took the book, carefully holding it open at the designated page. Maddie’s index tapped the paper again, indicating the beginning of the poem. They had no title, no number, and no other identification if not for the single black swirl that signalled the start of the very first verse.
He quickly scanned the page, smile slipping slightly as he recognised the words he had read that very same morning while they leisurely sat around in the loft of the station. Close enough to bask in each other's comfort, and distant enough to have their personal space to unfurl the events of a heavy medical call. After reading that poem, Chimney had found himself gazing in between the lines for a very long moment, letting his vision blur as he digested the meaning hidden in the words of the poem. Belatedly, he recognised it as the one that had started the argument with Hen. That one poem that had convinced her of the gender and sexual orientation of the mysterious author.
“Read it for me?” He looked down at his wife, her eyes slipping closed as she curled into his side.
“Okay.” He agreed easily, clearing his throat as her smile widened and her eyes opened to stare at him with wonder. “Some say love is a sin. Then I am a beggar at Satan’s door. For my love is warmer than a blazing fire.”
Maddie’s eyes slipped closed once again. He smiled down at her relaxed expression before continuing. “Deeper than the darkest ocean. Stronger than the punishment of any deity. If loving you is truly a sin, then I will pray. My lips against your skin. My eyes full of you. My soul aflame. If—“
“If loving you is a sin, then you are my religion.” Maddie mumbled low, eyes opening to find Chimney smiling gently at her. “Sorry. I just love this line. Please, keep going.”
His gaze slowly turned back to the page, hand burrowing in her hair as he found the line he was about to read. “Your body, my temple. Your soul, my only true God. If loving you is a sin, then I will burn. I—“
“I will burn with your name on my lips.” He smiled down, fingers running gently through Maddie’s hair.
“You like this one too?” She smiled and nodded, eyes glimmering in the low light.
“I do. My favourite poem, remember?” Her smile widened, and something deep inside his chest sang. A delicate melody that filled his body with warmth and a sense of safety. “Keep going, please?”
“Of course.” His eyes skimmed the page, and he smiled softly to himself. “I will burn with your name on my lips. My ears ringing with the sound of your laugh. My heart still beating to the rhythm of my love.”
“For you.” She finished with a low murmur.
“For you.” When their gazes locked, he noticed she was already looking up at him. Slowly, the book fell on the blanket as he leaned down and kissed her. It was slow, a sweet encounter of lips filled with words unsaid and others repeated so many times his heart felt like a bursting pipe. Too much pressure and too little space to contain it all.
“I love you.” His whisper was low, barely a breath against her smile.
“I love you too.” Her forehead was warm against his lips, eyes closing as she burrowed her face deeper in her pillow. She yawned, and he chuckled while turning to leave the book on the bedside table.
“We should go to sleep.”
“Yeah. I like that idea.” She turned around, pulling the blanket over her shoulder. Chimney turned off the lamp, and the room plummeted into a deep, blinding darkness. With careful hands, he ran his finger over Maddie’s side, slithering an arm around her waist as he breathed in the scent of her shampoo.
“Good night.” She spoke around another yawn.
“Good night, love.” He smiled as he kissed her nape.
Silence enveloped them like the hug of a long-awaited friend. The one who always has their door open and a warm cover ready to be wrapped around your shoulders after a cold, rainy day. This time, the air was filled with the scent of vanilla and something unique, something that made him think of home.
“Oh, I almost forgot... You still awake?” Maddie shifted in his arms, and Chimney felt himself balancing on the thin edge between sleep and consciousness. Despite the drowsiness, her voice reached his brain in a muffled, undeniable request. She always remembered the important things right before going to sleep, and he blinked to stay awake long enough to register her words.
“What?” He sighed, and the mumbled word seemed enough confirmation of his wakefulness for Maddie to continue.
“I haven’t been able to see Buck in a while. Would you mind getting him the book so he can sign it for me? And, please, don’t let him write anything stupid.” Chimney frowned, the words gently breaking the walls of sleep as he nodded and hummed along with his wife’s request.
“Get Buck to sign the book. Noted.”
“Thanks.” Maddie turned back to burrow her face into the pillow.
When the meaning behind the concoction of syllables sank in the folds of his brain, Chimney’s eyes opened and the frown between his brows deepened. “Wait. Why should I ask Buck to sign your book?”
With a sigh, Maddie turned her head towards the ceiling, her voice full of confusion and sleep echoing in the darkness. “Because he wrote it?”
Silence appeared between them like an uninvited guest. The clock was ticking loudly from its place down the hall, wind howling outside the window while Chimney concentrated on taking deep, slow breaths. He then sat up with the hurry of a man burning, turning on the lamp on his bedside table and making the shadows recede in the corners of the room.
Maddie groaned, one hand raised to shield her eyes from the bright assault as she mumbled something under her breath. Once she finally blinked away the spots from her vision, she took in her husband’s befuddled expression. Confusion filled his eyes, uncertainty folded in the corners of his mouth as it closed and opened around nothing but puffs of air. He then chuckled, mind waiting and searching for the pun at the end of the sentence.
“What did you say?” Worried, Maddie slowly sat up next to Chimney.
“That I want Buck to sign the book he wrote. Because… you work with him and you’ll see him tomorrow?” Her nose scrunched, and she yawned in the face of her husband’s internal turmoil.
“Buck… wrote them?” Quickly, Chimney snatched the book from its spot. “These poems?”
Maddie leaned back, watching Chimney as he waved the book with one hand while pointing at the cover with another. She raised a hand, gently taking the small item from her husband’s shaky grasp.
“Yeah. I convinced him to get them published. You know, to try and earn something with having to pay for the new place and leaving Eddie’s—“
“Buck wrote these?” Chimney interrupted her, eyes widening as he snatched the book from Maddie’s hold. He quickly got up, pacing next to the bed as he mouthed the words he had just recited aloud.
“Are you… okay?” Maddie stared at him, smile tugging at her lips as she watched Chimney’s expression slowly fall. He climbed back into the bed, folding his legs under the blanket. “You didn’t know?”
He shook his head, eyes wide as he turned the pages once more. He stopped on the first poem Hen had read to them at the station a few weeks back. His eyes drank up the words, love bleeding through the page and soaking his hands, burrowing deep inside his soul. “These words… who are they about? I mean—“
When his eyes locked with Maddie’s raised brows, the words died in his throat. He shook his head, closing the book with a sound of denial. “No.”
“Well—”
“Maddie, no.” She bit her lip, smile breaking free through the corners of her mouth.
“I mean. He didn’t actually confirm it, but…” Chimney’s eyes were wide as he stared at her widening smirk. “I asked, and he got all flushed. And then, he didn’t deny it.”
“Oh… my god.” Chimney looked down at the cover of the book, fingers trembling as he touched the name of the author. “Of course… the privacy.”
“What?” Maddie tilted her head, wondering if her husband was falling into a pit of nonsensical thoughts.
“We were talking about the author’s name being a pseudonym the first time Hen brought the book to the station. And Buck said that maybe… maybe the writer wanted privacy.” Maddie nodded, hands rubbing Chimney’s arm as she looked down at the small book. “Not fame.”
“You know him. He’s not someone who likes praises.” A breathy laugh fell from his lips as he shook his head in disbelief. After a moment of silence, Maddie yawned, and his own eyes suddenly felt heavy as roofs covered in a thick layer of snow and ice.
“We should really go to sleep now. We can… talk in the morning?” She nodded around another yawn, watching Chimney blink at the book’s cover once more.
He slowly put the small tome on the bedside table, turning off the light and letting the shadow take back possession of the room. They scooted back to their previous position, shuffling under the blanket in search of warmth. Maddie’s breath slowed down, while Chimney hugged her and tried his best to forget about the new information frying the tired neurones of his overworked brain. After a long moment of silence, he groaned, turning onto his back as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.
“What’s wrong?” Maddie turned around, worried and slightly annoyed by the disturbance.
“I read one of those filthy poems right before you came to bed.” Her frown softened, head once more falling onto the pillow with a huff.
“And?”
“And? And?” He groaned once more, the words leaving his lips with a whine. “Maddie, I read about Buck’s sexual fantasies. And they’re about Eddie, for god’s sake.”
She chuckled, hands pulling him closer as she gently ran her fingers through his hair. “Was it the one that said something like 'My tongue was crafted to bring you pleasure’?”
“Stop, for the love of—I need to clense my brain. Where's the bleach?”
*
α I am alone with the thought of you.
My veins are bursting with liquid pleasure.
My lungs breathing in the memory of your essence.
My lips moving around your name.
I am alone with you.
I feel your body under mine. Your moans die on my lips as I kiss away your hunger.
My hands were made to caress down your sides. To smooth your shivers. To hold your trembling hands.
My tongue was crafted to bring you pleasure. To dwindle the fire in your veins. To lap away the remnants of your desire.
My body was made to be yours. And yours alone.
Even if you will never have it.
Even if you will never think of me.
Even if you will stop knowing my name.
For I will have fire under my skin anytime I hear yours.
*****
Buck startled with a muffled curse and one hand splayed on his beating heart when he closed his locker and came face to face with Chimney. His skin was pale, darkness pooling under his eyes as proof of a restless night. With a new baby in the house, the tiredness pulling at the corners of his eyelids had become as normal as the happiness washing off of his smile and words. But something felt different about his expression. There was something deeper in the way his gaze searched Buck's face for something. As if awaiting the answer to a question he was yet to ask.
“You have to tell them.”
“Good… morning?” Buck raised a brow as Chimney showed him the small book of poems. He swallowed down a groan, closing his eyes for a second longer to avoid rolling them in disbelief. For the past month and a half, that book had been the topic of almost every idle conversation he had with his friends and colleagues. And if they weren’t talking about it, then any line of topic was moulded into a new road that would inevitably end up in a discussion about a poem or speculations regarding the author.
Chimney glanced around the room, eyes roaming through the clear walls before raising the book in front of his face. Buck unconsciously took it from his hands, letting the weight settle in his palm as he watched Chimney’s expression morph into a grin full of mischief and amusement. He felt something uncomfortable pool in the space between his ribs and his lungs, heart speeding as he tried to decipher the glint in Chimney’s eyes.
“My lovely wife requested an autograph, Mr Smith.” Buck’s pulse raced under his skin, fingers flexing around the spine of the small book. His eyes widened, and he quickly scanned the empty room before looking at Chimney with panic rising in the back of his throat.
“How—“
“She told me, obviously.” Buck inhaled deeply through his nose, looking down at the cover of the book. “And I won’t be able to keep it in for long.”
“What?” His eyes snapped up in surprise, filled with a concoction of fear, incredulity and hurt. He could feel his fingers tingle, his whole body ready to respond with flight or fight at the sound of the upcoming danger. “You’re going to tell everyone? You can’t—”
“No, no.” Chimney raised his hands, leaning back from the blazing fire burning Buck’s skin and engulfing his gaze. The last thing he wanted was to start the day with an argument and a lost fight. “Just… You know Hen has been researching a lot. And you also know how she gets when she notices I know something she doesn’t. And trust me, she’ll notice as soon as she sees me.”
Buck deflated with a long exhale, shoulders hunching under the weight of the secret he had been guarding for way too long. He smiled and then shook his head, quickly opening his locker to fish out a pen that for some reason he always forgot to bring back home to where it belonged. Leaning against the locker on his left, he wrote a couple of words to his sister before gently slamming the book into Chimney’s chest. He did it with a small tentative smile, cheeks growing pink under Chimney’s inquisitive gaze.
“You can tell her.” The words left his lips accompanied by a sigh. Breathing became suddenly easier, as if a weight had been dislodged from his ribcage.
“What?”
“You can tell Hen if you want. It was a long time coming anyway.” Buck shrugged, ears turning red as his eyes locked with something behind Chimney. “I kept this secret for longer than I should've.”
Chimney glanced over his shoulder, noticing Eddie chatting with someone from B-shift after crossing paths right in front of the entrance. The light was warm around his frame, a bag slung over his shoulder as he smiled and tilted his head while listening to his colleague.
He turned back to look at Buck, and the words melted on his tongue as he took in the expression softening his features. For a moment, he imagined his friend bent over a piece of paper, or maybe sitting in front of his laptop, writing and reading his own emotions as they bled into his poems. The raw longing that was swimming in his glimmering eyes, the sadness melting in the upturned corners of his lips, the passion rising beneath the coloured skin of his cheeks. His love was like a clear body of water, reflecting the light as the wind of emotions gently touched the surface without ever actually breaking it.
After a moment, Buck’s expression was taken over by a sadness that washed into Chimney’s body like a breath of cold winter air. His stomach was suddenly surrounded by ice, heart cracking when he saw his friend’s fire dwindle into the shadow of a flame. Without thinking, he put a hand on Buck’s shoulder, and the words almost plummeted back into his own throat when those two oceans turned to him in search of answers he did not have. In search of a certainty that was not his to give.
“It will work out between you two.” A humourless chuckle fell from Buck’s lips, one hand raised to run over his perfectly combed curls as he looked sheepishly at the ground in front of his feet. Chimney frowned and squeezed his hand, tilting his head to catch his wandering gaze. “Hey, trust me on that.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Chim.” Buck gently took hold of his wrist, moving it away from his shoulder. He took a step back, spine lengthening as Chimney suddenly felt a door slam into his face. Gone were the pink cheeks and the sweet smile, quickly replaced by a mask that slid into Buck’s face with the easiness of habit. “I’m condemned to… to want and never have what all you guys have. It’s just… this is nothing more than a silly dream.”
“Good morning, guys.” Chimney’s mouth closed with a click, and he turned to glare at the newcomer. Eddie’s eyes moved from his angered expression to Buck’s face before going back to meet Chimney’s blazing gaze. He took half a step back, hands raising as his bag slowly slid in the crook of his elbow. “Should I… come back later?”
“No.” The word tumbled out from Buck’s mouth, a smile too wide gently appearing on his lips. Chimney ignored the way his blue eyes shone under the light, false warmth hiding the pain that he could glint in the curve of his mouth. “I was leaving.”
Without another word, Buck left the locker room, and the air shifted into something heavy and sticky, like honey mistakenly poured onto the pads of their fingers. Chimney looked down at the book in his hand and quickly opened his locker, leaving it inside and fishing out another copy he had bought that morning. If there was one thing Maddie was good at, it was meddling in her brother’s life with all the care and good intentions of a loving older sister. And given that he had married her, he could do nothing but aid her by nudging her schemes into motion.
“Something happened between you two?” Eddie looked around like a lost puppy, and Chimney almost laughed at his expression.
“No, nothing at all.” Closing the locker, he walked towards the other man, gently slapping the book against his chest. “Here.”
“What?” Eddie looked down, hand gripping the book as he scanned the cover with a frown.
“Apparently Maddie got two copies at the store, something about a buy two pay one kind of sale. And since you’re the only one who doesn’t have it yet, she wanted me to give it to you.” Still frowning, Eddie ran his eyes over the cover before looking back up at Chimney with his head slightly tilted to the side. “You should read them. Like… all of them.”
“What for? Hen’s basically already told us everything that's written in this thing.” Chimney shook his head, smile widening. When Eddie met his gaze, he saw something swimming in his eyes, an emotion stuck between uncertainty and exasperation.
“Not everything. Especially not the last page. That one… it's really something.” He walked out, mumbling something about coffee and secrets. Eddie took a deep breath, his mind focusing on the smell of Buck’s shampoo still lingering in the air before going back to the book in his hands.
The cover was a simple blue thing with grey and black lines that interlaced with seemingly no pattern. He mouthed the title, and when he flipped through the pages, the smell of a new book hit him with something like longing and a long-lost feeling he could not quite place. It had been a while since he had had the time to sit down with a book in his hands, and poems were not really his favourite genre. But then, he stopped at a random page, eyes finding a line that Hen had quoted just the previous day. Eddie slowly sat on the bench, bag falling to the ground and book open in his hands as he mouthed the words written on the random page he had opened.
α You appeared in my life like a tornado.
My heart ripped from my body.
My soul shaken to its very essence.
My mind filled with the letters of your name. Dancing at the rythm of you.
Like a wind of novelty, you stepped into my world and destroyed it. Bones and ashes left in your wake.
And all I could do was build. A new world.
You, the centre of gravity.
Me, a small, invisible moon. Forever condemned to orbit around your existence.
Close enough to admire you. Far enough to never touch.
You appeared in my life like a tornado.
You stayed, becoming the breath that lives inside every beat of my heart.
With a deep inhale, Eddie slowly closed the book. He then exhaled, staring at the lines running over the cover. Something was unfurling inside his chest, thoughts and feelings that he had always shoved into the back of his mind, hidden inside a place that was becoming too small to accommodate whatever had been growing inside of him. And the poems he had been hearing thrown around the air had started watering whatever seed was burrowed in between his heart and breastbone. Maybe reading them would finally help him understand and settle into whatever his mind was trying to tell him.
Shaking out of his thoughts, he quickly changed and went back to find the others. The sound of laughter and conversation reached his ears, and he walked the steps two at a time, book tightly held between his burning fingers. His heart was beating rapidly as he tried to forget about the blue eyes that had appeared in the darkness of his mind as he read the words of that poem.
*****
Eddie snapped out of his trance with a startled yelp that died as a gasp on his lips. When he raised his eyes from the book to the man standing behind the counter, he noticed Buck’s eyes were furrowed and shining, his mouth tilted slightly downwards with the expression he usually got after trying to attract his attention for way too long. He had apparently resolved to hit him in the face with an oven mitten, now held tightly between his fingers as he got up and helped Buck with whatever was happening in the kitchen. The book was discarded on the couch, words still lingering inside his brain.
“You looked so lost in thought. What's gotten into you?” Eddie didn’t meet Buck’s eyes, his gaze focused on the pizzas that the man was gently moving from the oven onto the plates Eddie was holding up.
“Nothing.” The answer was a mumbled set of syllables, and he could feel his ears burn under Buck’s inquisitive gaze. However, he did not call Eddie out on his lie. He shook his head and smiled as he brought the pizzas to the small table in front of the TV. There was a game playing, and half-empty bottles of beer were sitting on the low table as they fell next to each other in the softness of the couch. Buck’s new apartment was not as big as his old loft, but it was cosy despite not feeling exactly like home.
Eddie scooted closer to the edge, trying not to linger on the feeling of Buck’s knee gently knocking against his. They were sitting close enough for their thighs to touch, warmth seeping through their clothes as Eddie tried and failed to concentrate on the task at hand. His friend’s presence was solid at his side, voice quiet and light as he launched himself into talking about the latest deep dive he had fallen into after helping Chris with a history project.
Time slid between his fingers like small crystals of sand blown by the wind. The colours changed on the screen, his mind numb and lost as he went through the automatic motions of eating and drinking and smiling at his friend. Hopefully, he had been nodding and chuckling at the right moments as Buck kept filling the silence between them.
“Hey.” Eddie tightened his hold around the bottle against his lips, turning to stare at Buck. He could almost feel his own skin burning under the thin cotton of his shirt, right where Buck had gently nudged him with his own shoulder. Looking down at his lips, he noticed he had sauce at the corner of his mouth. He forced his gaze back up, Buck’s eyes filled with worry and words unsaid as he wolfed down the last piece of his pizza before speaking with his cheeks full. “Penny for your thoughts?”
Eddie chuckled at the words, Buck’s smile warming something inside of him that he tried to snuff out with a sip of his beer. “Nothing. It’s just… nothing.”
Buck frowned, cleaning his hands with a napkin before erasing all traces of sauce from his mouth with a careful swipe. Eddie bit his tongue and took another sip of his beer as he stared at the empty plates in front of them.
“Something’s bothering you. You’ve been… lost in the past few days. Like you’re often thinking about something.” Buck’s hand was warm, and Eddie forced himself not to lean away from the touch. His thumb was gentle against the skin between his neck and shoulder, rubbing right above the collar of his shirt. His palm was heavy as a branding iron when Eddie forced himself to look up into his deep, blue eyes. “I… I’m just worried. You know you can talk to me, right?”
“It’s nothing, really. Just something stupid.” Eddie shook his head with a smile, putting the empty bottle onto the table with a sigh. The hand fell from his shoulder as he moved, and he wished he could worm his way back into the fleeting touch.
“It’s not if it worries you.” After a long moment, Eddie sighed again and turned to grab the object of his despair from behind his back. Buck held back a groan at the book that appeared in Eddie’s hands, cheeks flaming as he tried to drown his racing heart with a long gulp of cheap, cold alcohol.
“Chim gave mee this book and I’ve been reading these poems. And I just… I don’t know how to explain what's going on.” Eddie looked down at the moving pages, opening one and scanning the words. “I’ve been thinking about… things, and… I never felt like this.”
“What do you mean?” Buck looked down at his empty beer, thumb worrying at the label as he wished for his blood to stop crowding the vessels in his cheeks. Eddie sighed, and Buck’s head snapped up when he flopped back against the back of the couch. Unseen, his blue eyes trailed up the curve of Eddie’s neck, stopping at his lips as he wondered how they would feel against his own. If they would taste of beer or something else.
“I don’t know, man.” Eddie turned his head, and Buck forgot how to breathe for a long moment. “It’s just that reading these was so… personal. But also not. I felt like I was intruding on someone’s deepest thoughts, but I could also imagine them myself as if they were mine. And I… this doesn’t really make sense.”
Buck opened and closed his mouth, mind racing as he tried to find the right thing to say. The perfect words to deflect and go back to his one-sided conversation about the discovery of electricity and the invention of lightbulbs. He then looked down at his hands, taking a deep breath as he resolved to catch this opportunity for what it was. Buck slowly leaned forward and put the bottle on the table as the words finally found their way out of his mouth.
“I know exactly what you mean.” He was aware of Eddie’s eyes burning the side of his face. When he turned, he tried to smile at the inquisitive gaze. “I used to write a diary.”
Eddie’s lips twitched. It was not amusement, but something soft that filled the curve of his mouth. “Yeah? A diary?”
Buck nodded, ignoring the way Eddie had lifted a leg to turn and face him more comfortably. He slowly tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling and waiting for someone to fill him with enough strength to voice all that had been tearing him apart from somewhere inside his soul. For the past week, Hen and Chimney had been looking at him with a mixture of pity and gentleness in their eyes. They were often asking how he came about with certain words and phrases for a poem, the conversation bleeding into knowing looks as soon as Eddie entered the room.
There was only so much a man desperately in love with his best friend could take. And his heart had almost reached the end of the line. He had to get the words off his chest, knowing that he would never be ready for the pain bleeding out of his hands as he picked up the broken remnants of his heart. Because this love was never meant to be. It was a hapless thing born in the wrong place and at the wrong time. And Buck had to put an end to its existence before it would root deep enough to dig out his very soul when the world would inevitably shatter around him.
“It was Dr Copeland’s idea, back when I was seeing her.” Eddie hummed, a quiet sound that made Buck’s breath stutter inside his lungs. “But… after a while, as I kept trying to write about my days and whatever crazy thing had happened to me… something changed.”
When he glanced at his left, Eddie was frowning with his head propped against his closed fist, elbow digging in the back of the couch. He was silent, furrowed eyes glinting with curiosity while Buck licked his lips before continuing. “I started writing about things that happened. And then the pages turned into... poems. At first, they were mostly sad and about all I had felt after a rescue gone bad or a close call. But that was how I found out that writing was actually the perfect way for me to understand the chaos of what I was feeling and put it somewhere… outside of my body. And I...”
He took a deep breath, words escaping him as he thought about how to best continue his explanation. Eddie rescued him with a frown and a whispered question. “That’s why you can understand this author? Because you also wrote poems?”
Buck smiled and looked back at the ceiling. He missed the fondness melting into Eddie’s eyes, running all over his face as if he was trying to burn the image inside his memory. A picture of that exact moment, when the world was slowly shifting around them. Silent and tilting just right. Without actually answering Eddie’s question, Buck took another deep breath and braced himself for the next part.
“One day, Maddie came to see this place, and I had left some papers around. Some old things I had written and shoved inside a random box with pots and pans.” Eddie chuckled low, and Buck smiled at the gentle sound. “Well, she found them and read them. But after that she suggested I could publish a small book or something to make a bit of money, given that I had to pay quite a bit for this place and the moving and... you know.”
Slowly, Buck raised his head and looked down at the book in Eddie’s hand. Following his gaze, Eddie’s mind swam with puzzle pieces that were slowly starting to slip together when Buck smiled at him with his head cocked to the side and pink dusting his cheeks. “Maddie put me in contact with a colleague of hers who had self-published a collection of the most absurd calls she had gotten in the ten years she had been working as an emergency dispatcher. From then, it was all about putting a bit of money into editing and finding someone to draft a simple cover, and… here it is.”
He tapped the book with his knuckles, Eddie’s fingers curling tighter around the spine as his mouth opened and closed around slow, shaky breaths. “W-Wait. You mean… this—“
“They're mine. In this book there are some of the poems I wrote in the past… year and a half, let’s say.” Buck’s eyes searched Eddie’s face for a reaction. There was a crease between his brows as he stared down at the book, his lips curving into a smile as he looked up at his friends.
“You’re joking.” His chuckle died into a sharp breath when he noticed the mirth missing from Buck’s expression.
“Try me.” Buck closed his eyes, head resting on the back of the couch while he bit the inside of his lip. His heart was beating loud inside his chest, and it was hard to hold back the emotions piling up inside his throat.
“What?” Eddie’s breath stuttered when Buck’s eyes opened just enough to stare at him from under his lashes. He licked his pink lips before speaking, and Eddie almost didn’t register the words reaching his ears.
“Read any line of any poem from the book, and I will finish it for you.” After a moment of silence, Eddie frowned but nodded before opening the book.
“Okay, then. Let’s see…” The sound of rustling paper was accompanied by the advertising playing on the television. Buck closed his eyes and waited for Eddie to speak, the noise from the screen lulling his heart back to a steady rhythm.
“Sometime today, Diaz.”
“Shut up. Give me—here.” Eddie cleared his throat, eyes taking in Buck’s blushing face before going back to the book in his hands. “The world may finally—”
“— stop spinning, trapping us in this moment. A photograph that will never fade.” Buck opened his eyes and smirked at Eddie as he closed his mouth with a click.
He looked down and flipped a couple of pages before reading aloud. “My lungs breathing in the memory—“
“the memory of your essence. My lips moving around your name. I am alone with you. I feel your—” Buck stopped between one breath and the other. Eddie saw his cheeks burn as his eyes looked all over the ceiling with a layer of glimmering emotion. “I’d rather not finish this one.”
“Yeah.” Eddie agreed easily, face flushing while he took in the next few words. “But how do I know you actually wrote these and didn’t just… memorise them?”
“You don’t believe me?” Buck smiled, shaking his head in front of Eddie’s narrowed eyes. “Why would I lie about this?”
“I don’t know.” Eddie shrugged, looking down at the pages as he tried to imagine Buck writing those verses. He shook his head, disbelief pulling down the side of his mouth. “I just… these poems are so…”
Buck waited, lungs unable to fill completely while his heart pounded against the inside of his ribs. He fiddled with his hands in his lap, eyes glued on Eddie’s face as he patiently waited for him to conjure the right array of words. The perfect adjectives to describe the feeling that those words had conjured inside his mind.
“There’s so much longing. And… and loss.” Eddie’s eyes lifted to find his gaze. Buck didn’t know what his friend read on his face, but his brown eyes crumbled like the shards of a broken mirror. “Who… I mean.”
Eddie gulped, book closed, as he fiddled with the corners of the pages. He looked down, avoiding Buck’s gaze as he sat up and chased his wandering gaze.
“Who what, Eddie?” His voice was soft, barely audible over the sound of the show that was playing in the background. When Eddie raised his gaze, Buck felt something starting to crack inside his chest.
“Who are these for?” Eddie ran a hand through his hair, a small, tentative smile dancing on his lips but not quite reaching his eyes. “I mean. You had many relationships, and I just… I don’t see you writing poems about them. None of them. Is it… someone from your past?”
The chuckle that fell from Buck’s lips was burning from somewhere deep inside his chest. A mixture of loss and defiance as he realised this was the moment he had been waiting for. The moment he had been dreading since he had first decided to share his words with the world. Eddie's question was the perfect opening for what he needed to say. For what he wanted to say. And with a smile, Buck let himself crack open, head resting back on the couch as his eyes burnt with the image of Eddie’s confused expression. Brown eyes bright in the light, cheeks pink and nose scrunched. He hoped that one day he would not have to conjure that face from thought. That he would still be allowed to drown in the feelings filling his every bone. Because in that moment, with the words finally unlocked and free on his lips, Buck realised there was no changing what he felt. There was no one else he was going to love as much as he loved his best friend.
“They’re about you.”
The world kept turning, the sound of muffled laughter filling the silence from the comedy that was appearing and disappearing in the corner of his eye. Buck watched with bated breath, lungs burning and heart aching with the pain that was yet to come. His blue eyes took in Eddie’s face, the incredulity and disbelief morphing into denial as he opened the book once more, cheeks burning when he met his gaze with confusion.
“You—what? Wait. Do you mean that… I mean, these words. These feelings—”
“I love you.” Another weight disappeared from his chest. Buck inhaled and felt his muscles relax into the hold of rejection as he watched the colour drain from Eddie’s face. “It took me a long time to make peace with it, but… those words are all for you. I was just lying to myself when I started writing.”
“A year.” The word was barely a whisper on Eddie’s lips, one finger tracing the words of the title etched on the cover. He looked up at Buck with eyes wide and full of words unspoken. “You said… you’ve been writing these for a year and a half?”
Buck nodded, teeth digging into his lower lip as he held back the tears crowding in the corner of his eyes. He would let them fall in the silence of the night, darkness enveloping him in a blanket of solitude as he let himself break. But only after Eddie would be gone. Not there. Not with Eddie still staring at him with an expression that was a mixture between horrified and shocked.
“I did. That’s why I was lying to myself. I was in denial back then, but… you left.” He leaned forward, ignoring the way Eddie flinched when their hands touched. Eyes looking down, he opened the book onto the last page and put it back into Eddie’s expectant hold.
Eddie’s gaze moved all over his face before slowly gazing down at the poem written onto the very last page of the book. He mouthed the words under his breath, voice low and barely audible as his heart picked up speed against his burning lungs.
“The walls echo. They scream with the memories of you.” He looked up, and Buck nodded, eyes boring into his face with a gentle smile. Eddie looked down and swallowed before continuing. “Laughter bleeds out of the wallpaper, tinkling in the silence like spirits haunting my every breath. I feel your presence in every step burnt on the grounds beneath my feet. I see your face…”
“I see your face in the way the light catches the mirrors.” Buck continued in a whisper. Eddie took a deep, shaky breath, the book quivering in his grasp as he tried and failed to make his vocal cords cooperate. He glanced up and almost leaned away when Buck’s warm hands gently enveloped his, holding the book steady as he stared right into his eyes. He was drowning in blue, unable to hold onto his breath. “Your soul trapped between the glass and the frame, reflection of what I never had and lost. Your eyes watch me as I try and fail to exist within these walls.”
Eddie could not move his gaze, trapped in the storm that was Evan Buckley. His breath was stuck between one beat and the other, Buck’s smile widening into a soft, fragile thing as he raised a hand to catch a stray tear Eddie hadn’t felt falling down his own cheek.
“Fail to exist in a world without you. For you have taken my heart. My soul. My very breath. The moment you walked away. With everything I never said.” They sat there for a long silent moment, breath shaking between Eddie’s parted lips as he let the words soak into the essence of his soul. Then, when he noticed Buck’s eyes quickly gaze at his mouth, Eddie decided to ignore his whispering mind and give in the beating of his heart.
Buck’s surprised gasp died in the space between their mouths. Eddie’s hand let go of the book, fisting the front of Buck’s shirt while the other burrowed into soft hair, pulling him closer when Buck instinctively tried to lean backwards. He could feel a hand cupping his cheek, another one closing at the base of his ribcage, big enough to cradle his whole heart. It was slow and soft, lips touching for only a fleeting moment that seemed to last forever before Eddie leaned back and smiled up at Buck’s awestruck face. His blue eyes were wide open, searching Eddie’s for an explanation, a pinch on his skin that would break this dream into reality.
Something passed between them, a quick and mute exchange of glances. Before he could open his mouth, Eddie felt Buck’s hand slide under his jaw and pull. Buck’s lips were soft while they moved against his mouth, electricity running under his shivering skin as he let himself melt into the moment. The kiss turned into something urgent, a feverish meeting of gasps and bites before Eddie leaned back and pulled Buck’s hair to stop him from chasing his lips.
“I love you.” Eddie took a deep breath, feeling the words run free and settle the truth deep inside his bones. “I just… You need to know that those poems made me realise that.”
“What?” Buck’s hand was warm against his side. Despite the uncomfortable position, Eddie smiled as Buck’s eyes fluttered when he gently ran his fingers through the hair on his nape. He took a deep breath, smile making his cheeks hurt as he looked at Buck’s face up close. He knew he would spend the rest of his lifetime drowning in those eyes. Blue like the most beautiful of oceans.
“I was reading them the other day and I just… I couldn’t stop thinking of you.” His cheeks turned pink, the thought of Buck writing those poems with him in his mind finally sinking into his brain.
Silence slithered in the spaces between them as Buck gently pulled him forward. There was no urgency in his movements, hands still holding Eddie’s face and side as Buck slowly leaned back. Eddie followed him, lying half on top of him, head resting on Buck’s chest as he took a deep breath and listened to the rapid beat of his heart. The warmth of each other’s bodies was settling deep into their bones as they smiled and traded kisses alongside whispered words. There was no hurry. They would give in their needs as soon as their hearts and minds wrapped around reality. Sinking in the idea of heartbreak turning into something sweet, and soft, and glowing. Realising that it had always been love, the small, fragile thing growing between them.
“You appeared in my life like a tornado.” Eddie quoted with a twinkle in his eyes, head tilted to look at the surprise washing over Buck’s face. It morphed into a smile full of soft edges and pure adoration.
“You stayed, becoming the breath that lives inside every beat of my heart.”