The Birds & The Bees | S.R.

Ch. 22 | Three Bruises

I considered all the things I could say. I thought extra hard about what I wanted to say more than anything.

I miss you, I thought to say again.

Please come back safe, like you promised, was only a reminder of the way he'd already failed.

I love you, I thought, but it didn't seem right, either. It seemed almost too cheap.

Then, seemingly at the same time, we realized that nothing made sense because it hadn't been my turn to talk at all.

"I'll be counting rabbits instead of sheep tonight," he said through a solemn chuckle.

My laugh, however, was genuine as it could be under the circumstances. I took a deep breath in, and then sighed before I spoke softly, "Don't let them keep you up, though. I want the night to go by as quickly as possible so I can see you again."

"God, I can't wait to hold you," he laughed, "I think I might never let you go again."

Hugging tighter to the plush bunny on my lap, I answered, "I hope you never do."

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he whispered to avoid acknowledging the inevitability of our next separation.

"Goodnight, Spencer," I answered much the same.

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The night was restless but quiet. At one point, I might have found the silence comforting. After all, what college girl really wants to hear the signs of occupation in her household while she tries to fall asleep.

But I missed it. I missed the soft sounds of Spencer's breath and the rustling of sheets when his happiness became too much to bear without a little wiggling. I wanted to hear him padding to the kitchen in the middle of the night because he couldn't sleep, and I wanted to follow him out to the couch to remind him that he wasn't alone in this anymore.

I missed the sound, but I kept the apartment quiet, because I wanted to hear his keys the second they began jingling and clinking against my door.

Sure enough, around 7pm, I heard it. Before my brain had even fully processed what I was hearing, my feet had already whisked me through the space and straight to the door just in time for it to swing open.

"Spencer!"

The same way I always did when we'd spent any modicum of time apart, I threw myself into his arms. Although I was no stranger to him struggling not to fall, nor dropping everything he was holding in exchange for me, I'd never quite gotten the response I received in that moment.

A sharp hiss of pain, followed by a whistling breath that he tried to turn into laughter.

"Oh!" I squeaked, jumping back with my hands up in surrender, "Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? Did I hurt you?"

Spencer's breath was still heavy, and I hadn't missed the way he clung to a certain spot a little longer than the rest when he smoothed his shirt out. When heavy arms fell again, they didn't stay that way for long.

As if to prove that nothing was wrong, he pulled me into a significantly softer embrace.

"You know me. I'm not exactly known for my physical prowess," he sighed.

"Did something happen in the field?"

His answer came in the form of a kiss; with two hands on my cheeks and his body a healthy distance away. When it ended, however, I was not satisfied. I stole another few taps of his lips on mine before glancing at the spot where he'd lingered.