George pov
As we walked up the stairs into the apartment the next day, I was overcome with a sense of nostalgia.
I was able to smile without being remotely grateful that someone wasnt dead, or that I wasnt depressed.
I was able to smile just because I felt like it.
I was able to hold Clay's hands as we walked, not because I explicitly needed comfort, but because despite the need not being there, I loved the comfort he provided.
I was able to walk, the low thumps of footfalls flowing sweetly into my ears, muffled, but not disconcerting.
And now, I was able to walk into my apartment, my boyfriend at my side, and finally feel the carefree joy that came with being home.
Home.
I nearly laughed at the word.
I had always used it, for years, but had always spoken it without knowing how it truly felt.
And it felt amazing.
The chairs had never looked so stable, the couch never held such a promise of a movie night, the corridors leading to my bedroom never looked so colorful with the pictures that remained there since I'd first moved into this place.
The slow padding on the wooden floor had never sounded so welcoming, never held the promise of nice company like it did now as we reinspected the place, a new appreciation for everything in it enveloping us and turning the air in the room to a thick layer of silence that was not ready to be broken.
The light grey walls never were so nice, almost calming. The green plants never made the air feel fresher, the sickly sweet smelling flowers never held so much color.
It was entirely new.
Something I had been losing hope I'd ever experience in my life.
And so I was happy.
I knew that I should be worried, tainted and traumatized by my boyfriends attempt.
I should be weak with relief that he was still here, standing beside me, the crystal light of night shining down onto his golden features.
But I wasnt.
I had never felt stronger with the knowledge that it was undoubtedly I who saved him.
I was the only one he had on this earth, that he cared for, I knew.
He'd told me more times than I could count, and I wouldn't waste what fleeting time we had left to be alive worrying about the end.
Somewhere in our wandering about surroundings that were already familiar but seemed so new, we going ourselves cuddling on the couch, watching The Last Summer.
It was a good movie, and it passed silently between us, love present in the air but not flowing in constant reassurance from our mouths.
Our touch didnt have to be deliberate, and it wasnt.
Our kisses didnt need to be constant for us to know we both enjoyed them.
And we didnt need reassurance.
We were alive.
That was comforting enough.
I was lain on Clay's chest, his head resting atop mine, his arms wrapped around my waist as I sat in his lap.
His chest rose and fell slowly, his heartbeat the same as my own, calming, unbothered.
Soon, however, the movie ended and we found ourselves playing Minecraft, something we always managed to bond over.
Finally, the silence was broken, the song of our voices wafting through the open windows and over the now rising sun.
"What's your favorite ice cream flavor that you've tried that I've bought for you?" I ask him, lighting up a cave hurriedly before movs spawned.
"You would like to know." he says, scrunching his nose up with his own humor.
"Yes, I do, so tell me." I quip back, glancing at him before turning my attention back to the screen.
"I cant believe you cant remember." he says, sighing as he logs out of the game, leaning back on his hands and admiring me from the side.
"No, you never told me." I say, a stifled laugh catching in my throat as I fall into a pit full of lava.
"Shit." I curse quietly.
"Oh, my fucking gods! Language, George." Clay laughs
"You just- whatever. I'm not falling for your change in subject that was oh, so subtle." I say.
"Whatever, you already know what my favorite ice cream flavor is, dumbass. I'm not telling you again." Clay gets up, stretching and pulling me to my feet as well.
"Why cant you just tell me?" I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck.
He's silent for a little while before he speaks again, a small and fond smile on his face.
"You have really pretty eyes." he says.
I roll them, unimpressed.
"Clay." I say, and he raises his eyes brows at my use of his real name. "Cut the bullshit and answer the question! Please?" I say.
It didnt matter all too much what his favorite ice cream flavor was; i simply wasnt going to alllow him to take the win on our arguement.
"Dont worry about it." he says, pausing for a moment. "Actually, let's go out and get some ice cream. What do you say?"
As much as I wanted to win the arguement with my boyfriend, a dusk-time walk to get a frozen treat for breakfast didnt have me uttering my excitement haltingly.
"Yeah, sure, let's go."
We exit the building with more energy than we had lived with thus far. It was nice.
Another one!
Are you guys enjoying this peace spell?
This book is going to end in just a few chapters. I'll try and get them all out today.
Much luv to you all.
Youre all great friends. The highlight of my day is getting to talk to all of you.
Enjoy your life
951 words (hey, its more than the last chapter)

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