ODE TO THE END: A BALLAD OF BROTHERS

CHAPTER 12

"Umm...A-achim?" She whispered.

"You smell nice," a tired Achim blatantly stated. 

He snuggled into her shoulders and Naomi felt her bones melting. How easy it would have been to go limp and allow the boy to sink into her. Again, Naomi's hair fell into her face. Her mane as unruly as her thumping heart. 

"What sort of deodorant is that?" Asked Achim.

"I...uhh." Naomi bit her bottom lip before giving into his weight. She let herself lean atop him, her head laying on top of his. Her skin squirmed and her fingers fidgeted as her bright eyes peaked at every inch of the mysterious youth. "...Now that you mention it, I actually forgot to put any on."

"...Gross," said Achim. "But weird that you don't smell bad."

"Yeah," giggled the sun-kissed girl.

She heard Achim exhale before his breaths again went steady. The pressure his body put on her  was not what she expected, but not at all what she disliked. As Naomi felt the curls of Achim's afro tease her exposed skin, she dared to dabble in the amorous affairs floating in the back of her mind. Naomi steered herself closer to the moon-eyed boy, eyes aglow with visions of his touch. She gently pressed her chin against his forehead, and, with familial woes and forest shadows forgotten, let her lips linger inches from a kiss. "So, about those bad dreams..." Again Naomi whispered to the dreaming vagrant, her silent voice boiling with freshly discovered desires. "Did you want to talk," Naomi sweetly inquired.

"Not really," Achim responded. Half-asleep, the boy then shrugged.

"...I guess you could say I have episodes where I — I ASK MYSELF WHY AM I TELLING YOU ALL THIS!?"  The dark boy yanked himself away from the sun-kissed girl the instant he came to his senses. Distance was taken: two to three yards worth.  "IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS," Achim shouted.

The moment was over. The haze of her inflamed heart slowly subsided, but Naomi could see the color of fluster through Achim's dark skin. Had he felt it too? The deep things that tingled to the touch? She laughed, more out of an unfulfilled anticipation than humor.

"You're so weird," Naomi said with a much needed exhale.

"YOU'RE WEIRD," Achim hissed.

"You really think so, because you're one to talk." Naomi poked her tongue at Achim. While he moped without a come-back, she rummaged through her backpack to pull a bushel of bagged grapes from its mouth. Naomi dangled the hanging fruit before Achim, all too ready to forget the latent sensations, but only as long as he was. "You want some? Weirdos only,"  she said.

Achim's avarice was enticed, but his suspicion subdued him. His eyes narrowed. "What is this?" he scornfully asked.

"Breakfast," Naomi answered. She ate a single grape then tossed him the bushel.

"Breakfast for you." Said Achim. He tossed the bushel right back. "I don't need to eat."

Just as Naomi caught the bag, she heard Achim's groaning belly. She stared at the moon-eyed boy, and sighed before putting the bag away. His refusal was all too familiar.

"Wait!" Achim said. 

His entire face blushed beneath his scrunching brow. He crawled over to his sun-kissed counterpart then extended an open hand. He said nothing.

Naomi , from confused to contently smug, placed her bag of grapes into his palm with a smile.

Achim took the bushel and ate five at a time. While Achim inhaled the sour spheres, Naomi giggled. Him and her mother. To have been so alike and yet so different in the moment....Naomi was amused at first . Relieved. Her joy faded though. Memories of her mother's cold countenance froze the warm feelings over.