Runaway

.11

It was well after two when Greg dropped me off. We all bro-hugged and shook hands and wished each other well. Mark was leaving tomorrow for Florida, and Greg wouldn’t be seen unless Carly was out somewhere. This was basically our long-term goodbye until we saw each other again—if we ever saw each other again.

I could tell from the lack of lights that no one was awake. Who would be? Two had school tomorrow, and Maddie was still probably at her mother’s. My parents had to work, and there was always the if factor with Savannah.

As I walked in, I tripped over a pair of shoes and barely managed to catch myself on the wall. I kicked them out of the way and headed towards the guest room. There was no reason for me to go there except to make sure Savannah was home and sound asleep. When I cracked her door open, the hallway flooded with light. That same light blinded me momentarily.

When I was able to see again, Savannah was staring at me through her large glasses, a book was in her hands, and the blankets were piled high around her. For a couple moments, we didn’t do anything but stare at each other. I was glad to have her eyes on me for once considering I was always checking her out and seeing how she looked. It was nice to have her attention solely on me for a change.

Slowly she shut her book and put it on the floor beside her before she patted the empty space in the bed. I stepped into her room and left my boots at the door. My steps were slow and drunken almost until I was able to crawl on top of the covers beside her. Her hand found mine as her head laid down on my shoulder. Silence held onto us for a while, and I was comfortable.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” I finally asked as she played with my fingers.

“The same reason you weren’t at the house,” she replied softly and yawned. I smiled at that, at knowing that she had waited up for me, at her cute little yawn, at her tired voice. There were so many things in that moment to smile about.

“You never say home, Sav,” I reported as I thought over all of the conversations between us and all of her journal entries.

Savannah moved then so that her chin was on my shoulder and she was staring straight at me. I looked at her expectantly.

What I expected was an answer, not a kiss.

Her lips touched mine softly—soft enough that I had thought that she’d just let a breath out. But I knew otherwise as they brushed mine softly again. As if to indulge in the moment, I left her lips touch mine once more before returning the kiss. And it felt better than amazing because she was doing this without crying beforehand, without admitting her love for me, without any complications. This was purely Savannah wanting to kiss me.

“Stay,” she whispered between kisses. I knew I shouldn’t—that it was wrong of me to sleep in her bed with her—but I found myself stripping my shirt so that my jeans remained. Carefully she popped the belt open. I knew how much she hated the feeling of jeans against her legs.

My jeans joined my shirt on the floor, and I crawled under the covers with her. Savannah cuddled up into my side with her head on my chest after shutting the light off. Her hand joined mine then and her fingers played with mine.

I’d deemed this moment bliss, pure unadulterated bliss.

“Sometimes, Ollie, a home isn’t a place but a person.”

That was her goodnight and it was the loveliest goodnight I’d ever experienced.

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It's really short. It's also everything I wanted to put in this chapter.