Sincerely, Aurora [completed]

~Twenty-One~

You sat down at the table with me, setting our plates down beside the plate with all of the waffles on it. "So. I was only saying that soon we might get another outing. How would that be?"

"Where?" I asked, putting a couple of the waffles on my plate.

You stabbed a few and transferred them to your plate, too. "I don't really know. It would just be a weekend to somewhere, though."

I smiled. "That's fine."

You smiled back.

And for a while, we sat in comfortable silence, drowning our breakfast in maple syrup. (And you were drowning yours in peanut butter, as well as syrup.)

Even though your mouth was full and there was literally nothing going on otherwise, you made eyes at me all throughout breakfast, like the silly nerd you were.

It made me laugh, though. There's only so much eyebrow-wiggling one can take with a straight face in the early morning.

Sunlight came in through our kitchen window, and made it really feel like morning.

When we were done eating, you took both of our plates to the sink. "Thank you for breakfast," you said as you rinsed the plates off. "Those were the best waffles I've had in forever."

I beamed, scooting the chairs back to their places against the table. "They were easy. You're welcome."

You came back from the sink and hugged me for a long time, just holding me. I closed my eyes, relaxing against you.

It was morning. You were leaving. 

But for now, at least, you were holding me, and you were here, and I was warm and happy.

"I love you," you said softly. "I'll be back for dinner."

This was a daily thing. Maybe I was silly, but I needed reassurance before you left. Mostly because you were the only person that I thought to call if something was going on.

You were my only security, Jude. I needed you.

"You'll be fine until I come home, okay?"

I nodded against your chest, swallowing. "I'll be okay."

You rubbed my back for a moment more before you held me away from yourself and gave me a broad, warm smile. "I love you, baby."

I smiled back, strong. "I love you, too."

"To Polaris and back," you said, arm around my shoulders as we walked toward the front door.

I nodded, smiled. "To Polaris and back." 

You let go of me to slip your shoes on, and I leaned against the doorpost, watching you. 

"And further than Polaris," I continued, brushed my hair out of my face. 

"Much further," you agreed, shoes on. You tipped your head to kiss me gently. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

And you left, just like that. So simply. So ordinarily.

I waved you goodbye, I blew kisses at you.

You didn't come back.

. . .

I usually got a call from you around lunch time. Just a short one, so I could tell you about anything funny I noticed, or so you could tell me about something crazy a customer did.

I didn't get a call that day. I didn't get a text. 

And I didn't call you because I didn't have anything to tell you that couldn't wait for when you got home.