One Thousand Paper Cranes

Chapter 21

Eliam came into the room, his hair messy. He must've been running his fingers through it. His tie still hung loose around his neck and I wanted reach up and fix it myself, but I didn't know how and he was upset.

I watched him from the bed as he paced the room. His hands rubbed down his face and he let out a heavy sigh. Even in this state, agitated and hurt, he was beautiful. The light coming in through his blinds shone across his face casting shadows across his cheeks and making parts of his eyes blaze gold. His anger made them sharp and defined, just bringing out his beauty.

"We should get ready." He murmured and headed off to the bathroom, keeping the door open. I wasn't going to go after him. In my experience with angry people I'd learned that the only thing to help them was time and space. And that was what I was giving Eliam because even if his reasons for anger were petty they were still valid in his mind.

Finding the silence boring I stood up and looked at Eliam's records. They were organized, of course, in alphabetical order. I smiled to myself as my fingers danced across their colorful tops. My hands landed on one in the middle. I slid it out of the box and laid it on top of the other records. I barely even studied the cover as I pulled out the record and put it on the record player.

A whirring noise filled my ears and then a crackle.

"I don't believe in an interventionist God." I laughed slightly, shaking my head. It was always this song. I let my arms fall to my sides and my head bobbed up and down to the music.

I peeked into the bathroom as I walked back to sit on Eliam's bed. He wasn't getting ready, just sitting on the ground with his head in his hands and knees pressed against his chest, shoulders shaking. I'm not lying when I say it scared me. Eliam wasn't someone who broke down. But I also wasn't going to lie that that was exactly what he was doing.

The music vanished and all I could see was him and all I could hear was him.

"Eliam?" My voice was soft. He picked his head up, bit by bit, until I could see his eyes.

"Yeah?" He said, his still covered mouth made his words muffled.

"Are you al- No. Never mind I'm not going to ask. Get up." I said, setting my face to look more stern. Telling him I meant business. He dropped his arms, his mouth hanging open slightly.

"What?" He breathed.

"You heard me," I stepped into the bathroom. "Get up." He stood reluctantly and crossed his arms.

"I'm not sure I want to do whatever it is you want me to do. I was quite fine sitting and sulking. If you'd just let me-" he said. I grabbed his arms, keeping him in place as he tried to turn away from me.

"No, I'm sure you weren't fine sulking. I'll tell you what. You're going to kiss me." I stepped closer to him. "And you're going to forget, for as long as you can."

Eliam, his eyes half closed, nodded. "Okay. I'll forget." He lifted his head but kept his eyes closed. I met him halfway and our lips molded together. Oh, if my mother could see me now. Not only comforting a boy, but kissing him as well. Though we'd done this before it felt somehow different. All those other kisses, it seemed, we're just leading up to this one. A kiss that should have been insignificant but it wasn't. God it wasn't.

My hand cupped his face, thumb rubbing over his cheek. My other hand eased itself in place along the small of his back. We went together, it seemed, like puzzle pieces. I'd put a hand here and it'd fit perfectly. No matter how you put us together we would always fit.

When we pulled away the lingering effect of his touch swayed between us. He'd opened his eyes now. He looked at me, as if he'd only just now begun to realize I was there.