Two Arts

Chapter 26

T.W. Abuse. (It'll be signaled right before the conversation starts and when it ends to allow people to skip through.) Don't forget to vote ⭐️♥️

We spent the couple of weeks after our trip upstate constantly together. Making up for lost time.

Sadie slept at my apartment multiple times, for Keynes's utter enjoyment. The feline would sneak into her arms in the middle of the night in a way he rarely did with me. And she'd hold him til he was satisfied and ready to move on to his next napping spot. I held the two of them and felt a sense of belonging I had never experienced in any recent times.

I had Sadie send me her meal plan and I did my best when she was over at around time to eat to try and follow it closely. Even if it meant planning my groceries accordingly and fixing my messed-up routine.

Putting Sadie's well-being first was a no-brainer.

I read about eating disorders and even got in contact with a professional who could answer accurately all of my stupid questions and give me pointers on how to help my partner with her struggles—or at least how to not be disruptive.

I didn't make Sadie particularly aware of my efforts, I didn't want her to think I saw her any differently because of it. I truly didn't.

She was Sadie.

I figured in a relationship like ours one would do what needed to be done.

She was perfect all the time.

I would've changed nothing.

I wanted her to be happy and feel good, but that was as far as my concern went.

Having Sadie around brought back many memories and old habits.

Writing my papers with the famous actress hanging out on my couch in her underwear and an old T-shirt of mine reminded me an awful lot of when she was studying for her high school finals. My contribution at the time had been to lose pieces of clothing for every chapter she could recount or—if she was lucky—for every ten consecutive flashcards she could answer correctly.

It bit me in the ass the following year when I had already passively learned most of the material and there weren't worthy enough hands that could replace Sadie's on my body.

Specific memories of our study sessions would resurface when I'd get to those topics and melancholy would take over me and force me to throw myself into any kind of distraction available.

But it was finally all better.

Sadie's hands were back where they belonged.

-

"Will you take off your shirt once I submit this paper?" I joked, not raising my eyes from the screen.

Sadie knew exactly what I was referring to and stepped behind me. Her chest against my shoulders, her scent bathing me. One of her hands slipped underneath mine on the laptop's touchpad and she scrolled up to skim through my work. I rubbed my forehead against her cheek, taking in as much of her perfume as I could hold.

"This is a big paper—"

I bit her neck.

She sighed and continued "I think it calls for more than just a shirt," She cooed.

My lower abdomen stretched and pulled, I hummed against her skin, "Yeah, I think so too."

There would never be a day in which we could avoid being all over each other.

I could feel my eighteen-year-old self's heart heal.

As if I was getting to write over the memories of loneliness and despair.