My fingers tap mindlessly on their sleek kitchen counter top, my eyes roam along their carefully painted cabinets and my ears listen to the calm quiet of the early Saturday morning.
We came back from the beach a few days ago and the taut tension in the air has clearly lessoned thanks to that spontaneous trip. I'm glad I got to listen to Asher's experience in their relationship as well. It's been on mind too: How I'll act and feel in this new dynamic. A dynamic all too similar to the one I had to leave.
Although, they're not similar at all. Thankfully.
Now, I can solely focus on actually figuring everything else out. I, obviously, can't just sit here and let someone steal our privacy like that. If they think they'll get away with this, they've got another thing coming.
I'm definitely ready to focus on fixing this issue if it weren't for the fact that I'm so exhausted...
One other thing that's been on my mind for a while now is the reason why I'm always up at the crack of dawn every day, even on the weekends or our days off.
Regardless if he's had a late-night or has a free day the next day, Asher never fails to set the same ringtone that rings in our ears, without fail, every single morning.
Sure, on the weekends the other two will lull him back to sleep while I attempt to turn it off without throwing the phone on the floor, but still...
Why is the 5:30 A.M alarm so important to him?
He hasn't turned it off once, but I remember the one time he didn't use it.
When I had a cold...
That was the one time none of us got up early. I distinctly remember everyone still getting ready for the day at around 10 when I finally woke up and we ate breakfast and enjoyed tea the rest of the morning. None of them were up before the sun. At least, I don't think they were...
Even in my bleary state at the time, I would've heard that loud and now very familiar alarm.
I don't particularly mind. I mean the sound definitely gets on my nerves some mornings, but I'm never actually annoyed at the man setting them.
I'm just... curious.
"Morning..." the man of the hour's muffled voice brings me back to Earth. I end up staring at his baggy t-shirt and pant-less legs while he wanders to the empty seat beside me. Without a word, I get up to grab the extra cup of hot chocolate I made for him, knowing he'd come down after me, like he usually does since I can't get back to sleep when I wake up.
Looking at his bed-ridden state: Ruffled hair, red cheeks, markings from the crinkling sheets all over his temple and heavily darkened eyes; that curiosity only increases tenfold. If he's so exhausted, why couldn't he let himself sleep in at least over the weekend?
All these questions left unanswered because I simply can't bring myself to flat out ask them. But apparently, I don't have to:
"I'm sorry..."
If it weren't for the continuous silence of this morning, I probably wouldn't have caught it.
"I woke you up..." he pauses for a long breath. "Again," his fingers wring together and lay lazily on his lap. He looks really sad, but not at all tense, which is good. I want him, all of them, to feel comfortable enough around me to tell me anything without fear. Just like I'm trying to do with them. Be as open as possible.
Babysteps...
Despite my strenuous effort, I end up yawning before I can even utter a word and my cheeks flush at my own rudeness. "No, seriously, don't even worry about it," I try, my elbows bumping his before leaning onto his shoulder. "It helps me be more productive anyways,"
"You of all people don't need to be more productive, you need to rest just like everyone else and..."
I hesitate with responding, not wanting to start the day off on a negative tone, but... "I could be saying the same to you, you know," I take a sip of my hot chocolate then place my head back onto his shoulder. One of his hands comes up to play with my hair and I nearly tell him to stop before I fall asleep. It feels too good though.
"I-" his shoulder slouch under me and I lift my head to watch his eyes suddenly take on a shimmer from the tears that refuse to fall.
"Hey, we can talk about something else, if you-"
"You deserve to understand, Noah..." he whispers, the tears finally escaping and small sniffles cover the silence for a couple seconds. "You should know," his brown eyes find my green ones and I try to argue that he doesn't owe me any explanation, but he's simply not having it.
"I was working a regular office job until about 6 months before we met you," I simply nod, letting him explain at his own pace while my hand rubs ovals and circles around his back. "But the boss reminded me way too much of my grandfather,"
"Grandfather?"
"He used to let me help around his garden and looking back now, with all of his pets he had around, it may as well have been a mini-farm," a wry smile touches his lips and makes me retract my hand briefly. I've never seen such an... eerily dry expression on him before.
I don't think I'll ever want to see it again.
"Maybe saying 'he let me' isn't the right phrasing, I was more so forced to do the odd jobs here and there as soon as I turned 14,"
"Jobs?" A flashback of my own brings me back to Mr. Brown.
"Whatever he didn't feel like doing or paying someone else to do, he 'hired' me to do it," he leans back a bit and I suddenly realized I accidentally stopped touching him altogether. He's leaning into my touch and I gladly oblige. "I used to get a bit of an allowance from him, but eventually he got tired of feeling like I was only doing it for him as a chore, so I relied on my parents to give me the money he owed me," another smile, but a softer one, blooms at the mention of his parents.
"He was a grumpy old man, but he had his good moments too which practically fooled everyone but myself and my parents,"
"Why does he remind you of your boss?"
He turns himself in the stool, his whole body now facing me. "They both underestimated me." His eyes which glimmered like the sun on the sea from tears, suddenly remind me of the red heat you could only truly find in a flame. "They both thought they could use me to get any job done without having to lift a finger, but no, I wasn't as naive as they had hoped,"
My brows furrow in confusion and he definitely notices as he finally chuckles and lightens the mood a bit. "My grandpa would make me get up at 5:30 every morning whenever I spent the summer with him to garden for the rest of the day; I couldn't be with my friends until all of the weeds were gone, no phone until I potted all of the flowers properly and no hanging out indoors away from the sun until I make sure every inch of his huge backyard was thoroughly watered,"
His hands I'm holding are squeezed tightly. How could someone do that to anyone let aline their own family. It's controlling. It's manipulative.
'I trust you finished grading those Essays, Mr. Huxley?'
It's unfair.
"My boss expected pretty much the same things, just in an office setting and I thought I could handle it, climb the social latter, but..." his eyes go dark again, as if reminiscing over times he never wants to go through again.
I squeezed his hands thrice until he finally looks back up at me with a small smile. "I quit after I had my third panic attack of the week, on a Tuesday morning," his smile only grows from there and his eyes simultaneously look past my shoulder toward the entryway. "And two amazing and gorgeous men helped me right out of my slump,"
"My alarm has been a thing since I quit, I felt like such a failure and if I didn't at least get up in the morning then I would feel so... unproductive and I didn't like it," he further explains.
Just like that, from a conversations over tea, I feel a newer and even stronger connection bring us together. Perhaps it's the similarity in our past situations. The fact that he opened up to me about it, motivated me to do the unthinkable.
Open up about my own past with Mr. Brown. Even Tyler doesn't know the full story, but...
I take a glance over my shoulder, at the two men who momentarily distracted the brunet before me. I feel like this is something i need to do if i want this to go any further.
"His name is Owen Brown..."
All three pairs of eyes fall to me and the shuffling of feet vibrate in my ears while I take a deep breath in a horrible attempt to soothe my fray nerves. "My highschool English teacher,"
"Mr. Huxley, please have a seat,"
I haven't spoken one-on-one with Mr. Brown before and i haven't failed any tests, so why....
"I wanted to discuss something with you," he offers me a cup of water in his dusty office that I already feel very claustrophobic in. "It's about your grades," he looks me straight in the eyes over his own cup of black coffee.
"My grades?" But I haven't gotten anything lower than A in his class...
"You see, you're an exceptional student," joy skips through me at the compliment, as well as relief knowing that I haven't suddenly failed a test or something. "And I was hoping, for some extra credit, that you would help me out a tiny bit," he places the mug down with a thump on the wooden desk.
"Help out how?" The teacher's pet in me wouldn't be opposed to doing some extra credit work, besides it might come in handy to be on good terms with one of the teachers here before exams start.
"Things have been pretty..." he glances to the side and I note the small picture frame that must've fallen down on the top of his shelf next to us, "busy at home lately to put it lightly and I could really use some assistance with check some of the other students' homework I've assigned to them,"
i nod slowly, taking in the information before fully processing. "Great, so this stack will be yours to take with you and make sure to not lose anyone's work," he gives me a narrowed look this time and instant regret begins to pool in my stomach. "That would be a bit of an awkward conversation with that student who worked so hard on that paper, wouldn't it?" Before I can even get a word in, he bends down in his chair to pick up a rather large and heavy-looking stack from beside his feet.
"Right, I expect these to be checked and marked, carefully, by tomorrow,"
"Tomorrow?!" I stand from my chair, the thing nearly falling back at the quick movement.
"Yes, is that going to be a problem?"
"Mr. Brown, is this even allowed-"
"I have things to do now, as I said, things have been rather busy," he makes a waving motion with his hand, silently sending me on my way. "See you tomorrow, Mr. Huxley,"
"That's how it all started with him, a simple task, in his eyes, and it only escalated from there," I look down at my feet, the three pairs of eyes still staring at me from somewhere in the room as we've moved to the living room at one point during my awful story-telling.
"Did you tell anyone...?"
I simply shake my head. I was, like, 15 at the time? "I didn't have the courage, not at that age at least, even if I told my parents, I thought my world would come crumbling down from everyone else not believing me,"
To most high schoolers, including myself clearly, high school is their world. There's nothing beyond that. Nothing beyond the gossip or the unappealing school lunches. Nothing beyond the pop quizzes or visiting the school nurse for an ice pack and a slip to get out of P.E.
High school is their world where everything matters.
I was absolutely terrified of the mockery and sneers I'd get for even attempting to put the favored teacher's true identity on blast like that.
And all of that stuck with me to this day. It took me so long to grow out of my timid and held back nature, but I still have my days. The worries and anxiety of how others would treat me if I ever did snap at him, never left and stuck to me like glue in the form of frequent nightmares.
Even telling the story now doesn't seem significant enough to be told. The thought of their reactions makes me realize how much I wish I had just kept my mouth shut. I should've continued to convince myself that I'm overreacting and that I'll get over-
Big arms wrap around me tightly, just about leaving enough space for me to breathe. My own shaky hands find their way to Sebastian's back and I can feel my the way his upper body moves with each slow breath that I find myself match.
In and out, inhale and exhale, in a slow rhythm. If i close my eyes, maybe I could convince myself that I'm floating.
"You're okay." He whispers, voice low and careful.
I'm okay.
Maybe, if I spoke up about it back then, things would've turned out differently. The larger part of me now definitely wouldn't have cared if people believed me or not, but that smaller part that's been my persona all throughout my teenage years knows why I stayed quiet when I shouldn't have.
In a way, this is kind of inspiring me.
Speaking up. I think that's what I'll talk about in the next podcast. It's something that I'm sure some people need to hear and I hope they'll take it to heart. Because if there's one thing I regret in my life it's that I didn't speak up.
I undermined my own feelings and I still do that to this day.
When I fall out of my trance, I look over at Asher and Julian who are already watching me with a tender look in their eyes. They simply nod in my direction, reaching out and both holding my shoulder or stroking my fluffed up hair. "Thank you for telling us all of this," Julian speaks first and Asher looks over at him before focusing back on me with a surprisingly serious expression.
"Your feelings are and have always been so valid, Noah, I hope you know that," he leans in and turns Sebastian's embrace into a group hug.
"So have yours, Asher," I end up replying into his ear and I feel his arm tighten around me ever so slightly.
So, we took things pretty slow over the weekend and we wouldn't have done it any other way. Come Monday, and our full focus for the rest of our vacation is on figuring out who is taking all of these pictures behind our backs and why they seem to stop once the sun sets.
"Well, we've already established it's someone with access to the office, so it's someone we know, right?" Asher's fingers absentmindedly run up and down my arm like they usually do whenever he's concentrating. We're sitting on the floor in front of Sebastian's desk, the four of us creating a somewhat pointy circle.
"Most likely, or indirectly know, since a visitor's pass is an option, but it would mean extra work for whoever's doing this since they'd have to sign in every single time..." Sebastian runs his thick fingers through his hair, looking down at the printed pictures and scanning over them multiple times.
"Why aren't we calling the cops again?"
"Sarah is already on that and people are already investigating, but let's face it, it'll take a while for any answers to actually come up in a city like this,"
I just want to try to get this over with as quickly as possible. I want to enjoy every second with them without feeling like I have to look over my shoulder constantly.
"It's pretty hard trying to 'stay aware of our surroundings' when we're out together, we have so much fun, so we end up forgetting to actually look around..." Asher slumps down onto my lap with a huff while i continue running my eyes over the pictures until an idea finally comes to mind.
"What if we could at least narrow it down a bit by being able to scratch the person possibly needing a visitor's pass out," I state, my free hand that's not running through the brunet's hair taking one of the photos from the office.
"How could we do that?"
"These are all pictures taken with a camera," I start, my fingers grazing over all of the other crystal clear photos, "all cameras, tripods and other related equipment has to be signed in with the visitor before they reach security,"
"Okay?" Asher slowly sits up, his own eyes looking over the pictures again while Julian makes something like an "ahh..." sound.
"Meaning, all we have to do is check the sign-up sheets from this date," I point to the photo dating back the furthest, marking the start of this whole ordeal. "All the way up to when we started summer break,"
"That might work..." Sebastian's rubs at his chin, making the three of us chuckle.
"Of course, it'll work," I stand from my 'seat' and stretch my arms up as far as I could. "I think we could all use a break, tea anyone?"
Right as I reach the door, a gentle hand pushes it back closed and the other spins me around by the waist. "Love, you're the tea drinker in this household," he reminds me, his blond locks tickling my nose a bit and I end up laughing a bit at the soft touches.
"Oh right, coffee anyone?" I finally respond and he grins down at me before placing a few small kisses on and around my nose.
"I'll help," and we're out the door in a flash, setting off to make our third batch of coffee of the day.
A/N: I wanted to quickly bring you guys into my thought process: I do plan to bring this story back around full circle and end it once we reach the end of Autumn. (Since this story started in Winter!) Meaning, once their summer break ends and the temperatures start cooling down, the story will slowly, but surely, be coming to an end!
I do have many more story ideas that I have yet to share, which I'm super excited about. But for now, my sole focus is on bringing this story to a proper close!
I love you all so much and thank you for 20k+ reads, I'm so so so sooooo thankful! <3