You have a place in my heart no one else could ever have
—f. scott fitzgerald
▬▬▬ ♫ : ▬▬▬
Romantic (NOTD Remix) - Stanaj
▬▬▬ ✦ ▬▬▬
AUDREY
I still can't comprehend how one whole month managed to flash before my eyes.
Between this and that, it didn't even cross my mind that we were well into March, already closing that border between winter and spring.
The 'time flies when you're having fun' saying absolutely wrapped up my relatively eventful past few weeks, the main highlights being:
1) The long-awaited dinner date at which my mom and Hailey finally got to properly meet Cameron. And drown him in their ever-effusing questions. Okay, they weren't that bad. We actually ended up having one of the most convivial dinner dates I've ever been involved in.
Hailey and I had helped Mom prepare a special meal, à la Italiano: Caprese salad, hand-sealed Ravioli, Tiramisu. . .— the whole deal.
Snowflakes showered outside as we watched one of the older seasons of 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire?' (Mom's and Hailey's fad). After he beat all of us with predicting the correct answer, my mom's opinion of Cameron probably skyrocketed even higher.
I don't know how he managed to know almost every answer. That mystery is of the same kind as the sudden reason why North Carolina decided to grant this paper town a such a considerable sprinkle of snow, near the very end of winter.
But it had been, overall, one of the most enjoyable evenings of the whole year.
2) The stressful shopping hunt for the best ski gear. I was grateful for Syd to have me guide through that one, as my knowledge in the area of skiing is outright null.
3) Probably the most prominent of it all — mine and Cam's one-month anniversary.
It'd been one week ago.
Having thought about it recently, I've come to this conclusion: I don't think the moment would ever come, when I could officially state that I'm used to our relationship. In the sense of it becoming something mundane, ordinary or unexciting.
With Cam's cup of tea being all the little things and little surprises, there was just no way. All the flowers he'd randomly bring, all the post-it notes— with sweet messages or intentionally mawkish pick-up lines — I would find inside my locker (I still don't know when he managed to discover the code), all the inside jokes, and well. . . the anniversary gift. . .
I remember waking up to an early-morning doorbell that day, sleep-walking towards the door in my pyjamas and thinking I was still dreaming when opening it. I was met by a jumbo ass panda teddy bear that didn't even fit through the front door at first attempt.
We had to ram it in by force.
It was plush and adorable and bigger than myself.
And that was just our one month's anniversary. I wouldn't even know where to begin imagining the present for one year's. . . A pleasant sinking sensation fluttered in my stomach at the mere thought of reaching a whole year together . . .
Anyway, moving on. All I'd gotten him were some special skateboard headphones along with a pack of skateboard wheels, all in a cute little box that I'd manually wrapped and decorated. It felt measly in comparison, but Cameron assured me that it was the nicest and most thought-out gift he'd ever received.
We spent that whole sunless Sunday together, watching movies, sharing childhood memories and dreams, and making a start at creating our own Relationship Bucket List. It was the perfect opportunity to show off my caligraphy knacks and teach him the basics of lettering — unshackling, thus, my innermost stationery fetish.
He'd marveled at the amount of all the different markers and pens I owned, insensible to the fact that every single one was crucial for its designated, specific purpose. How can people so heartlessly underrate the importance of details?
It had been a nice cozy indoors day — just the ideal anniversary celebration for an introverted homebody like me. But for all that, my boyfriend doesn't really happen to share that trait with me. He's constantly trying to get us to go out. Much like Syd and Hailey.
Like, for instance, today.
He'd arrived at my house this azure Saturday noon, with the fixed idea for us to go and try out this new Escape Room our local mall had recently introduced. According to him, the website was inundated with positive reviews. And I honestly didn't have anything against the proposed plan if it weren't for a tiny inconvenience lying pacifically in my backpack:
A lovely, untouched booklet that was my Biology assignment due Monday.
Right now, I was lying on our gazebo hammock, in the most eccentric upside-down position known to humankind, my head on Cam's lap as he waited for me — or, as claimed by him, helped me— to finish the booklet.
I actually had just five multiple-choice questions left at this point— a minute's work — but with the world's biggest distraction sitting beneath my head (also known as my boyfriend), you couldn't blame me for procrastinating.
"Have you ever stopped to think about the fact that the word 'long' is shorter than 'short'?" We were popping strawberries into each other's mouths as he browsed through something on my laptop and I pretended to do homework.
"What is this — an article on the Fifty Random Facts that'll Impress your Girlfriend?" I looked up at him, derisively.
He gave a slothful laugh. "No, but you're close. It's called Totally Useless Trivia to Read While You're Sitting on the Toilet."
Shaking my head, I offered him another strawberry. He lunged his mouth towards it, deliberately giving my fingers one severe lick.
"Ew," I wiped my hand against my sweatpants, pulling a face. "You're weird."
He snorted. "Ouch?"
"A good kind of weird," I mitigated my tone, reaching up to playfully pat his cheek.
He raised his eyebrows blankly, eyes trained on the computer screen. ". . .should I be flattered then?"
"No, but you know what you should do? You should actually use the computer for something useful and google up something for me." I tapped my pen against that one question I just couldn't make up my mind about. "What vitamin is required for the synthesis of the redox cofactor FAD."
"Mm-hmm," I heard him hum and supposed that that meant that he was searching it up. Notwithstanding, a good minute later I was still not met by any sort of response.
"Cam," I switched my nagging tone on. "What's the answer?"
"Mmm," he didn't draw his eyes away from the screen for a single second. "So I didn't hear the question, but the answer is. . .yes?"
When I realized that my deadpan poker face wasn't being perceived, I rolled my booklet into a tube and gave his pretty, concentrated face a good smack. Friendly, but good.
"Hey!" He flinched, rubbing his cheek. Oh, come on. The hit wasn't that strong at all. "What was that for?!"
"Have you not been listening to anything at all? I've asked you to google something up for me," I sat up, "tell you what — gimme that," I snatched my laptop from his hands.
"Noooo, I wanna do it," he whined, kid-like.
"But you're not. You're too busy learning useless trivia," I turned the computer screen towards me, typing the question up myself.
"I got engaged. It's so addictive," he justified.
"Well, you're the one who's impatient to go to the escape room. The sooner I finish these three questions, the sooner we leave."
"It's just these questions and we're going?" His eyes brightened, hope twinkling behind them.
"Uh, yeah. . .and I also need to get dressed. . ."
His eyes trailed down my frame. I wore a coral-gray sweatsuit that I treated as home clothes, though it was decent enough for the outdoors.
"What's wrong with what you're wearing?" He was frowning, wholeheartedly nonplussed.
"Uhhh, you're telling me you wouldn't be embarrassed to appear in public with me wearing this?" I quickly undid my haywire bun, rerolling it up to stand tidily.
"Why on earth would I be embarrassed?"
"Well, a sweatsuit is not exactly date clothes."
"Princesa," he interjected, expressionless. "We're going to an escape room. That's exactly the kind of clothes you'd wear there. Besides," he smirked, reminiscing, "wasn't your idea of a perfect date one where you could wear comfy clothes to? "
"I mean. . .sure, but. . ." I was standing on the small table that sat amidst the gazebo, hands still fixing my hair while having a mental debate.
Without warning, my absent mind was forced to plummet back down from the clouds as Cam knocked my balance off and I landed on his shoulders — piggyback. I squealed, taken by surprise.
"Let's go already," he began carrying me out.
"Wait wait wait wait wait — my phone!" I protested. Reluctantly, he turned around and rode me back to the gazebo — where I'd left it.
Cameron's car was in vehicle safety inspection this week so he piggybacked me right towards the bus stop. Not that he seemed to mind the break from driving, may I add. Ever since I got into that car accident, his disinclination in regard to driving had become particularly acute.
I couldn't blame him.
We both stood leaning against the bus stop post — his arm hugging me close to him. I fiddled with his long fingers, my eyes meandering along the caramel skin of his arm. It was a manner of his — I've noticed — the tightness with which he'd always hold me close. As if he never wanted to let go.
As if the thought of that scared him.
My phone chimed with a new message when we took the standing spot on the bus.
"Who's it?" He inquired, out of interest.
"Syd. She's been insisting on this new idea of hers — a couple photoshoot."
"As in me and you?"
"Yeah. Says she's always wanted to hold one out. Honestly, it's the only other thing she talks about apart from the upcoming ski trip," I grumbled, leaning my head against the bus window and watching as it blurred with condensation from my breath.
"Hey, doesn't sound a bad idea to me," he crossed his arms as I shifted my gaze to him. "You don't want to?"
I cringed my face. "Not really."
"Why not?"
"Pffft, too lazy. Not to mention that modeling for Syd is worse than modeling for a painter."
"But she's a good photographer, is she not?"
"She is. Just very. . . perfectionist when it comes to her shoots." The bus veered and my balance faltered. Cam was quick to grab me with a braced grip, locking his arm around my waist.
"Bit like yourself," he traced his finger along my hoop earring. My cheek was lying against the skin of his collarbone, absorbing its heat. It was the heat of a thousand burning suns.
"Yeah, but, only when it comes to her photoshoots. Don't be fooled," I clarified, with a smirk.
Syd only fretted over the things she really liked. She wouldn't care less about an incomplete Maths assignment that decided our final grade but pity the person who dared to move her one millimeter to the left when she had already calculated the exact angle for her shot.
"Looks like this is our stop," he murmured against my hair, before giving it a kiss and leading me along to hop off the bus.
We stepped into the mall, hand in hand, the blitheness that I always felt around him engulfing me completely. I shut my eyes and felt it fill up my heart.
I'd never let anyone come and steal that feeling from me again. The feeling of our happiness.
I was no longer running and hiding from everything. I was no longer scared of storms and blizzards, drama and difficulties. Not anymore. Whatever came our way, I was ready to face it.
We were ready to face it.
Together.