the anatomy of love [BxB] COMPLETED

39

Sometimes impending doom feels more like teetering over the edge of a cliff and looking at the fall to a never ending abyss. The heart stutters, the breath catches, and yet the mind still lingers on the possibility. Not wishing for death, just flirting with the risk.

A seduction, not a romance.

But some days there isn't much of a difference.

Jackson feels his body leaning, leaning, leaning, to some edge with a fall he has never dared risk. He has never wanted it this bad, but is it worth it?

Wes has not texted him all day. The minutes stubbornly push towards the inevitable end to his day at the office, and Sofia will make sure to keep him honest about leaving. But if Wes doesn't text, does he have any reason to stay?

Maybe he needs to take matters into his own hands and write the ending he wants.

Since when does someone else determine his plans?

Jackson impulsively texts Wes: parking garage @ 3pm

Then he puts away his phone, hoping Sofia didn't notice. He probably won't show up, but it didn't matter. Not yet. Jackson's heart beats frantically like he had just played a soccer game. It feels exhilarating. It feels sickening.

It feels real.

A few minutes later his phone vibrates. Loudly. Out of the corner of his eye Jackson can see Sofia glance up and narrow her eyes. He doesn't dare check his phone. How is he supposed to focus now? Did he say yes? The suspense drags minutes into hours. By the time Sofia stands up and declares the day over, finally, Jackson's entire focus is on that text.

He goes to the bathroom and opens his phone.

Mom. Shit. His mom texted him. Not Wes. He checks his chat with Wes. Of course he doesn't have his read feature on, so Jackson will never know if he has actually read it or left it unopened.

Does he wait an hour until three? His balance on that cliff's edge swings violently towards the bottomless pit, enough to yank his stomach like a rollercoaster drop. Jackson's head spins. To love is to die. Is he dying?

With a shaky breath, Jackson tries to get his head straight. Maybe a drink somewhere will clear his thoughts. A coffee, yes. No. That will wind him up like a fucking bomb. Tea. Maybe he should go to Delilah and ask for tea. Hers might have some magical powers that will make this all go away. The thought of admitting he needs help outside of their sessions, though, feels too needy for some boy trouble. How about a nice, decaffeinated herbal tea from a nearby cafe with cute potted plants, pastel decór, and over priced cake pops?

Jackson heads to a cafe called Tea Pots. An hour. A whole entire hour to kill.

It feels more like eternity.

He enters the shop, smiling when all eyes swivel towards him. Some gazes drop immediately without recognition while others linger out of curiosity or approval. One pair of eyes widens. They belong to a boy his age in brown corduroy pants and a white shirt with a green cactus painted on the pocket, standing in line waiting to order. Jackson suddenly matches the dark hair, earrings, and carefully vague smile to the barista at Rock & Roast cafe. He thinks his name is Griffin.

Jackson grins and the boy smiles back with more intention, relieved to be recognized as well. He walks up to him.

"Second time meeting in a cafe," the boy says with a look that suggests he appreciates the coincidence but might believe its fate if you ask him on the right night. Jackson remembers why he liked him so much last time.