Within View

Chapter One

          "There's a 5k up in Tacoma in a few weeks. A color run thing," he said.

          He was sitting on the bench beside me. I imagined he was staring out over the ocean, hunched over with his elbows on his knees and a cigarette between his fingers. The ash would have fallen onto the gravel sidewalk as he'd lose track of time, letting himself drift away into his thoughts. He would have been staring out over the ocean, mesmerized, as if he was hearing a voice call for him to swim out to the bluest part of the water.

          "I've always wanted to do one of those, and its kid-friendly so we can take Mason and Kim. My dad says I should get to know them, since they're family now," he continued, and I blinked and sat up on the bench. "We could sign up as a team."

          "Yeah?" I said, trying to act as if I'd been listening the entire time.

          "Yeah," he laughed. The laugh was more like a breath. I could feel him look over to me, and I stared down at the milkshake I held in my frozen hands. "Mag?"

          "Yeah?" I laughed, also through a breath – a shaky breath. I swallowed. The more I tried to keep it together the more I realized how difficult it'd been to keep it together for even this long. The sound of the ocean waves shushed in the moment of silence that fell between us. The seagulls cawed on the distant pier as a boat came in with cages of crab. The waves crashed on the pebbly beach and the foam sizzled its way to our feet.

          "You don't have to pretend like everything's normal again," he mumbled as he took a drag on his cigarette. His skin was pale and damp with a film of sick sweat. "It'll never be normal again."

          "What's normal anyways, ha?" I asked through my teeth. I was imagining things. My eyes burned with tears that I quickly breathed away. And then, strangely, an ache slowly at first filled my stomach and then bubbled up into my chest. Laughter escaped my lips after I tried to refrain from interrupting the silence-crashing waves.

          "What?" He asked, and I finally looked over at him to see his right brow raised and a cautious, half-smile on the corner of his mouth. Fuck, was he gorgeous! More gorgeous than ever. Healthier than ever. My laughter almost became hysterical at how I'd been imagining how he used to be, before he got help.

          "I love you!" I said, and the tears came back into my eyes despite the laughter that rolled out of my chest. I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head. "I love you," I said again, settling down with a tremble in my lip. "I still love you."

          A breath escaped him, and he smiled softly, still unsure. "You don't have to say that."

          "I do have to say it," I said and wiped the tears out of my eyes. "I do, because it's true," I sighed and looked down at the gravel sidewalk beneath my shoes. "It's just," I shook my head, unsure of how I felt and how to say it if I could figure it out. I glanced over to him again, biting my lip.

          There had been no cigarette in his hand at all and there never had been. His hand only held a medium of his favorite strawberry cheesecake milkshake. His white, sleeveless shirt fluttered against his strong chest and stomach in the ocean's breeze as he sat reclined against the bench with his left arm draped over the back of the bench. As I glanced over him, feeling my face warm, my eyes grazed over his strong shoulders and his left arm that was hung over the back of the bench, and then I saw the white scars lining down the inside of his wrist and quickly looked away from them.

          His short, sandy hair was brushed by the strong wind as he continued to watch me with that irresistable half-smile still on the corner of his mouth. His skin had tanned somewhat from being near the ocean every moment he could for the past few days. He looked so alive. So, refreshed. So energetic. 

          "You're back," I finally said, with a tremble in my mouth. "You're really here."

          "My favorite place. Home. With my favorite person," he whispered cautiously. I could see his eyes struggle not to look at my lips, or my shoulders, or my cleavage. "And, I still love you too," he said and turned as if to face the ocean once again. "I loved you, though everything."

          "Jason." Without thinking, I lifted my hand to his face and raised myself to kiss him, but I hesitated. "Can I kiss you?" I asked, with my heart pounding in my chest and my hand suddenly shaking on his warm neck just under his ear. His skin was so warm. It felt good to touch him as he sat to close to the breezy water's edge. Actually, it just felt good to touch him at all: to feel his body, alive, beating, and soft.

          "Can I, kiss you back?" He asked with a breath of laughter escaping him. His face reddened as he smiled. He swallowed nervously and carefully lifted his hand to mine, and his fingertips hesitantly stroked by knuckles, leaving trails of warmth.

          "You can always kiss me," I whispered. A chill moved over my skin as he gently took my hand from his face and lifted my arm around his neck, smooth as ever. His fingers left trails of warmth as his hand stroked over my wrist and arm. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and smiled like he was going to cry.

          "My boyfriend's back," I laughed.

          "Well, the better part of him is back," he whispered, also smiling.

           I closed my eyes when I kissed him, softly at first, feeling the warmth of his lips press against mine. He was so gentle with the way he opened his mouth and tilted his head and pressed a little harder.

          "God, you feel so good," he whispered on my lips. It was as if I could feel his body awakening, with the energy of his pulse radiating from his body into mine. "I miss this."

          "Mmm," I hummed, feeling my body melt in his arms. He trailed his kisses against my chin and jaw, then to my neck where I felt his tongue gently grazing and his lips opening against my skin.

          "Let's get out of here," I said, gripping the fabric at the back of his shirt.

          "And get some drinks?" He offered. His breath was warm on my skin, and I could feel the slight graze of his teeth when he spoke, which made my face hot and my mouth part with a gasp I struggled to keep in my chest.

          "Are you allowed to drink?" I asked, but his answer wouldn't have really mattered. My senses were already aching to be with him – to be free with him. To do whatever with him without worrying, just like how we used to be before everything fell apart.

          "Let's go," he laughed, such a deep, rolling laugh, and we stumbled to our feet, not wanting to let go of each other ever again.