He takes my mouth with his, a hand grazing my throat like a warm, rough necklace.
"Touch me," he breathes onto my lips.
My hands slip under his shirt, over his abdomen, his muscles tight and warm against my fingertips. I touch the places on him I'...
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Goldwen, Virginia 3:16 PM
The café is called Hallowed Grounds. I like that.
Tucked just off campus on the corner of Fourth Street, it's brimming with tables and cozy sofas near a fireplace at the back. Wooden shelves line the walls, packed with books and odd trinkets. The smell of freshly ground coffee beans is thick in the air, mixing with vanilla and cinnamon from the baked goods showcased under glass domes on the counter.
We find a small booth near the window, the sunlight filtering through in lazy beams that warm the spot. I like to watch the people on the streets with their smiles. People here in Goldwen seem happier—and sadder—at the same time.
We order without even needing to look at the menu because our waitress Emory says she took one look at us and knew we'd like two lattes and a shared plate of the café's renowned turkey and cranberry sandwiches. We say, Damn right. The young girl with bright red curls tied back in a messy bun walks away with a grin.
I let my gaze wander around the bustling café. Students and friends with books spread around them seem to be the norm. September is around the corner, and they seem to feel it.
The lattes arrive quickly, topped with foam and cinnamon. I wrap my hands around the warm ceramic, feeling the heat seep into my fingers as I thank Emory. Greyson, meanwhile, is already taking a sip, his eyes closing for a moment.
"It's like old times, isn't it?" I say. "Only, everything's completely unfamiliar."
Greyson's agreement is muffled by food as the turkey and cranberry sandwiches are next, arriving on a rustic wooden board. They're fantastic.
As we eat, I can't help but feel a flicker of restlessness. There's so much to see, so much to do. Goldwen is a treasure trove of new experiences waiting to be discovered, and here we are, sitting and sipping coffee like there isn't a whole world buzzing just outside the café's old, painted door.
Then I think, I'll be here soon. Then I remember I won't, at least not for another year.
As I bite the edge of another cranberry sandwich, I let slip the news I've been sitting on since yesterday.
"I fill out the forms to defer school here. Just one more year."
Grey deflates, his head dropping forward in a relieved laugh. "Really?"
I blink. I braced myself for worry, a bit of anger, or at least an attempt to convince me not to wait.
"Yeah," I say slowly. "You're... happy?"
"Fuck yes, I'm happy. Jesus Christ, Ember. I've been trying to picture it all day—you here, me back home. I hated every second of it."
A confused kind of smile tugs at my lips. "Okay. I'm kind of excited, though," I admit, shifting in my seat. "To come here, I mean." I shrug. "But it won't hurt to be a super mature twenty-year-old freshman, right?"
