bambi eyes || tradley

29. everybody wants to love

"Nah, that's not it." Tristan tipped his head upwards.

Brown eyes curiously scanned over the ceiling before happiness quickly filled them. "It is raining and your ceiling is happy," he realised.

"Mm-hmm." Tristan smiled at his happiness. "Makes everything seem a bit more happy, doesn't it?"

"I told you there would be better days, Ceiling. Hang in there."

Tristan laughed. He still wasn't used to hearing his boyfriend talk to things that can't talk back. Some day he'd understand. "But anyway, would you like to know what's on the menu?"

"Sure."

"Fettuccine alfredo," Tristan told him, doing a little dance with his words. He just liked saying fettuccine.

"And applesauce?"

"I think I have applesauce in the cabinet," Tristan slowly told him as he disappeared into the kitchen. He pulled open the oven door, peeling off the cling film he wrapped over the dishes and turning the oven on. "Our food needs to warm up a little bit, but we can eat salad and... applesauce in the meantime."

"Yay, applesauce!" Bambi quietly cheered. He relaxed in his chair, happily smiling at the plate and glass in front of him. He wondered where this weird obsession with applesauce suddenly came from, but he didn't question it.

"And what do you want to drink, love?" Tristan questioned as he pulled out a cup of applesauce from the fridge and the big bowl of salad he'd put together.

"Ginger-ale," the curly-haired boy easily replied.

"Um, I don't have ginger-ale..."

"Fruit punch?"

"Um..." He poured salad into his bowl. "No fruit punch."

"Lemonade?"

"I don't think so."

"Grape juice?"

"I don't have that either..."

Bambi frowned. "I think that I should
ask what you do have."

"Um, well, I have orange juice, strawberry milk, and water from the faucet."

"How about that tea you are always drinking?" Bambi questioned.

"Oh, raspberry tea?" His boyfriend nodded in response. "It'd take me a while to make, but I'll -"

"No, no, we are on a date, Tris. I will be just fine with water."

"Um, okay."

Soon, the two boys were finally seated with their meal across from them and two glasses full of water. Tristan loved just sitting and spending time with his boyfriend, listening to him speak incessantly and scrutinising his every feature, but he wished that he could take him on a proper date with waiters and fancy tables and fancy everything. Bambi didn't look like he needed nor wanted fancy at the moment. He'd already asked for seconds of his meal before even having a chance to finish them, and he was devouring applesauce like his life depended on it. Tristan was just glad he could make him happy, and maybe just the two of them underneath his happy ceiling was really enough and Tristan was just finding ways to make himself nervous. He wanted to take him out one day, though, even if it were just a walk through the park. It'd probably be the happiest day of Bambi's life.

"... and then I found out that Christmas is an actual holiday," Bambi told him. "I am really excited for next month now! I cannot wait for all of us to celebrate together as a little family! I can bring Joe, James, and Connor to my parents' house with us, and then we can all celebrate together. Would that not be nice?"

"It would be nice, yeah."

Bambi smiled widely. "I am really happy that we are making a difference. My experience with the lab was not the greatest, and I am really happy that we are fighting for our beliefs. Even though our group is small and there is a possibility we may not succeed, we will still make history, and there will always be someone to finish what we start, yes?"

"I assume." Tristan shoved a forkful of salad into his mouth.

"Now that I think about it, I am kind of afraid." He frowned at his plate. "I am afraid of failing, and I am afraid that people will have to continue their lives being tested on, but I am also excited, Tris. I am excited that we are not sitting around and doing nothing. I feel like I am doing the right thing."

"Me, too." The twenty-one-year-old smiled softly at him before swallowing and taking a gulp of his glass of water.

"And then after all of this, we could move to France like you wanted, and we can buy a house there and be together and happy."

"That was just the anxiety speaking that time, really, and it was the only country I could think of at the moment. I don't really want to go," Tristan said with a laugh. "We can stay in England together, if that's what you want."

"Wherever you go, I will follow," the curly-haired boy reassured him. He smiled widely and laced his fingers together. "I love you a lot, Tristan, and I want us to spend the rest of our lives together."

The dark-haired boy smiled at that. "I love you, too, and I don't know what else I would want in my life than to be with you."

Brad beamed at him, happily stuffing his face with more food. Tristan just watched him before the question he'd been thinking about for ages escaped his mouth. "Bambi, since we're on the topic, why do you love me?"

"Ooo, this is an easy question." He paused to swallow his food. "You are pretty.... you are there for me when I am sad... you make me laugh and smile, and you let me in when I had nowhere else to go to." The curly-haired boy smiled after finishing, eating another forkful of his food. Tristan waited for him to follow it up with something else, but after he swallowed, he smiled at him again, finishing off his reply with: "That's why I love you."

"Oh." Tristan picked at the food on his plate. He wasn't sure how to feel about that answer. He wasn't sure what he expected him to say, but his response disappointed him. The twenty-one-year-old had been hoping for something more meaningful, something that'd make butterflies flutter into his stomach and a blush to form on his cheeks. "Okay then..."

"Are you okay?" Brad asked. He cocked his head.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He pushed his chair backwards, the heels of the chair scraping against the hardwood floor. "Well, we should go ahead and bake those biscuits while I'm in the mood."

"Yay!" The brown-eyed boy obliviously smiled and sat up from his chair. "I want to make them into little hearts!"

Tristan just nodded as he disappeared into the kitchen, a sickening feeling swirling in his stomach.