~Scömìche One Shots~

au·tism

/ˈôˌtizəm/

"This is Toby. Toby knows he's different than the other bears... And that's okay. I love Toby."

~~~

The first time he really looked me in the eyes, I knew I was a goner.

The thing about Scott was, he never fully looked people in the eye. He never held eye contact.

It was like he was... Afraid.

I had know him for years, he was my closest friend for nearly all of them, yet he never looked me in the eye for any more than ten beats. Never asked me what was wrong when I was down. Never let an argument go.

But that was okay.

I loved him.

The day when he took a breath, locked eyes with me, and spoke, I knew I was gone down a hole that I would never crawl out of. He called me beautiful.

And he kissed me.

~

Those long years of college were tough.

The years after were tougher.

Over those tough years, we made a pact. Whenever he had a moment when he didn't understand my emotions, he would voice it immediately, no exceptions. It made us closer, if even possible.

He still had trouble outside of my arms, though.

It was hard for him to get a job. No one understood him like I did. He couldn't look them in the eye, he couldn't communicate his feelings to them.

He would come home from a job interview nearly every week, distraught. I would ask him to speak to me.

He would explode.

You don't get it. You don't get it.

I didn't get it.

But I wanted to. I wanted to get it.

I wanted to understand what was happening in his mind. I wanted to understand.

And now I do.

Because he sang.

When he sang, all of his anxiety dripped away. Everything holding him back melted like wax. Every insecurity, brittle and insignificant at his feet.

The real Scott shown through, blinding and alluring at the same time. The flame of his music helped me understand. The sparks of his poetic words helped me finally get it. I could stare into the ethereal blue of his eyes as he sings to me for eternity.

He only sang for me.

And that was okay.

I spent my entire life with him convincing the world that he was normal. He was just like everybody else. But when he sang, he proved to me that this was simply false.

He was not normal. Not to me.

He was an angel.

An angel with complex feelings that were impossible for him to voice to anyone but me. Because he sang.

~

When Scott kissed my lips on our wedding day, he held me close. He whispered in my ear, not understanding why I was crying. I kissed up his neck and told him the truth; I had been waiting all of my life for this moment. I was overwhelmed with euphoria.

Then he started crying, too.

Instead of dancing to the music that was playing, he hummed and whispered melodies into my ear as we held each other, swaying. It was much better than any love song that could be trickling from the speakers.