Currents

Thirty-six ~ Currents

Thirty-six ~ Currents

When the day of Brent's departure rolled around, I had mixed feelings. Our relationship had progressed more during these two weeks than throughout the whole of summer. He'd let his guard down, and we'd actually had fun—and not just in a sexual way.

However, we both knew he'd have to leave at some stage. We each had an exciting few months ahead of us, and this summer had been a significant turning point in both of our lives.

"Good luck with finding a job," I said as we stood outside the departures gate at Heathrow. "Don't be too mean to people. Chances are they're intimidated by you."

His lips flickered. "Good luck with university. Remember to show gratitude or you might piss off your new flatmates."

"We can compare notes next summer."

His expression of amusement turned serious. "Thank you for these past two weeks. As much as I didn't think I would, I've had a good time."

"Me, too. I hope your flight is okay."

He held up his boarding pass. "Business Class... What's not to like?"

Lowering his mouth to mine, he gave me one more kiss, soft and sweet.

"Take care, Rosalie."

"You, too."

After a final peck on the lips, he turned and strode towards the Departures sign. Despite prolonging the conversation, it was a clear-cut farewell, and though my heart ached, I knew it wouldn't be the last I saw of that rude, but undeniably handsome, lifeguard.

~~~

While most people probably got nervous at the prospect of starting university, I buzzed with excitement. The hardest part was packing—going through my possessions stirred up memories.

I had a bunch of Alastair's stuff to return before leaving. At least it provided an excuse to see him so we could clear the air and move on with no resentment between us.

After transferring everything of his into a plastic container and checking he was home, I slipped on some shoes and made my way out.

His front door was ajar when I arrived, so I kicked it open with my foot and called out his name as I wriggled through with the box full of his belongings. He appeared in the hallway and instantly relieved me of it.

"Wow, I had a lot of stuff at yours," he said, lifting off the lid to peer inside.

Dressed in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, with a scattering of facial hair that suggested he hadn't shaved in the past few days, Alastair looked more casual than usual. When he leaned to plant a gentle kiss on my cheek, his stubble tickled me and there was no rush of his familiar cologne, either.

"How've you been?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Keeping busy. I'm looking to buy my own place."

"Oh? Still around here?"

"Yeah, don't want to venture too far out of the Royal Borough." He smiled at me. "You all packed now?"

I leaned against the hallway wall, crossing one foot over the other. "Mostly. That's how I came across all your stuff."

"I didn't even realise I'd been missing half of this." He pulled out a hoodie from within the box. "Gosh, it must be a year since I wore—"

The words died on his lips as a slim, gold chain fell from the top, landing on the carpet in a tiny heap. Neither of us said anything as we both realised exactly why it had been over a year since Alastair had worn that hoodie.