09 | sinope

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s i n o p e

i don't admit this to myself but i set my alarm a little earlier but it's not because i want to get to work on time but because i can't help but want to see him again.

so when i arrive i get to work immediately and go about my day and i may smile at the old woman and the small boy and the bright-eyed girl with the pigtails that stop early that morning but i only have eyes for the blue-eyed boy with the sprinkling of stardust on his cheeks and i grin when he stops by earlier then he normally does (and he smiles wider than usual, too).

he waits for me to finish helping the little girl before he leans on the desk, his smile contradicting the glimmer of sadness in his eyes but i don't prod, instead i ask how he's doing, if he's feeling better and he says "yes," but his eyes tell a different story.

i don't push him, instead i hear the soft rumble of his stomach and his skinny frame covered under a large sweatshirt and ask if he's eaten anything yet and he says,"no, not yet." but he swallows with difficulty, and places a hand in his pocket, over his stomach. untold stories are caught in the whispers of his eyelashes, i think.

so i say,"you should eat something, jupiter. especially with that hangover you must have," (and his gaze lingers on my mouth when i say his name in such a way that has every butterfly in the world migrating to my stomach).

his brows furrow in concentration and he leans forward, his hollow cheeks stained with roses as he trips over his next words, "a-actually, i was hoping we could grab something. t-together? i mean it's the least i can do after yesterday but i understand if you - "

"jupiter,"

and he freezes then,a shaky exhale escaping past his lips as i nod and say " i would love to."

(and his smile is brighter than all the stars in the world.)

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