behind the streams | dnf

forty | Dream

happy pride y'all :) this was all by chance but it do be a good day for the last chapter- and so with that i hope you all enjoy <3

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A yellow-warm leaf flutters over the newly-paved road, the asphalt dark and bold. I still remember the rumble of construction during the entire past week, as old cement was replaced with new and street markings were redefined.

I'm more than grateful the process's complete now- days and nights of hearing the drilling in the road made it feel like it was doing the same to my skull. Other residents had voiced similar complaints.

Now the pavement is rich with color, but it's a stark contrast to the skimpy trees that line along the sidewalks. Always at this time of year, there'll be a beautiful swell of color as the leaves take on shades of brilliance I only see at sunset, but it'll last so short and leave so soon and before I even know it, the branches have been stripped bare.

Currently, we're in that unfortunate stage. Shortly after I watch the initial leaf tumble off into the distance, a few more follow it, carried by irregular and tumultuous patterns of the wind.

The same breeze, cold and biting, leaves a chill at the tip of my nose. Standing at the front door, leaning against the wooden frame, it's the only part of me that I can't keep untouched by the chilly outside air.

It's autumn. It feels like winter.

I breathe it all in, and then out.

It's Thanksgiving.

My eyes drift open, not even realizing they had ever closed. Again, the neighborhood scenery welcomes me. The road. The trees, even though they're nothing more than slender, jagged scores. The sky, particularly grey-toned as well, but making the leaves of reds and oranges pop out even more.

It's a dreary choice of weather for a holiday, but there's something invigorating about it. Maybe it's to do with the sun not outshining the festivities; with conditions like this, it makes staying inside and giving our thanks more preferable, more comforting.

"So serious." The cheery voice cuts through my thoughts at once. An arm links in mine. "You need to go to more parties."

My hands remain in my pockets but I do let the smile tug at my lips, recognizing the line from a movie we watched two-three nights ago. It's an appropriate circumstance to use in, at least. "Hi George."

The side of his head leans against my shoulder, and a hand snakes tighter around my forearm. It presses me more into the doorframe, slightly uncomfortable but I wouldn't waste breath to complain.

There's a short stretch of silence as now we both stare out. Nothing as much as a car passes. The trees sway. The leaves tumble. Wind blows cold across my face, a new warmth presses against my side.

He sniffs, and whispers, "what are we looking at?"

It earns an audible laugh from me this time, and I can feel his amused gaze on me. I shift against the wooden frame, lessening the dig of metal near my elbow. "Nothing, really."

"Yeah, I know that."

"Well, then I'm not sure."

"So you've been staring at nothing, this whole time?"

"Well." The tone of the word dips low, and negotiative. "Maybe I was. The sky looks nice, you know."

"Wow, clouds."

"Wow, someone's grumpy."

"I'm not." Knuckles make gentle contact with my shoulder before he presses his cheek back against the same area. "You've just been out here, for like," he pauses, whether it's to do the math or make up a number on the spot, "20 minutes."