I give myself one more day before forcing myself to go back to class.
I can't afford to fall behind on school material, but I really need that step backward to focus on my incensed mother and the results of her fury. She found out about my father helping pay for my tuition, and her rage has pushed my father to withdraw his helping hand. I'm now stuck with the possibility of not being able to continue at Everwood after this school year. There aren't any good solutions, but I've managed to create a shaky plan which includes financial aid and scholarships and for that, I need to attend class.
Over the next few days as I catch up on lectures and homework, Sean doesn't press me for answers. He catches himself each time he starts asking a question, furrowing his brow as he remembers that I promised to give answers later. Though he's worried, he gives me enough space while making sure to touch base every now and then. We discuss upcoming finals and the weather, and never quite broach the subject of our strange dream interaction. I think both of us are puzzled by the experience, but it's not a priority for me right now and Sean seems to understand that. He spends time thinking about it, and my eyes linger on his face while he gazes out the cafe window, immersed in his thoughts.
I spend my time gathering my thoughts and settle back into a routine. It is an early afternoon in the middle of the week when I send Sean a text: Do you want to go for a walk?
Sure, he replies. I throw on a jacket and meet him outside. Sean has on his red beanie and a hoodie under a jean jacket. He smiles in greeting, I nod in return, and we head to the woods.
Snow drifts down in soft flakes, blanketing the ground in a thin layer of white. We walk to the viewpoint in silence, our shoes crunching against the snow and dirt as we trudge upwards. At the top, the valley shows itself in a drapery of white, ice dusting fir boughs like confectioner's sugar. For a moment the clouds clear enough for the sun to shine on the hilly slopes.
"So," Sean says, his breath fogging the air, "What is this about?" There is a log in front of us marking the edge of the trail, and he climbs on it, feet scuffling away the snow. He gestures for me to join him and I do, arms out as I try to maintain my balance.
"I'm sorry," I say first, something I'd planned over the past two days. "For speaking so harshly when you were only looking out for my well-being. It was uncalled for."
"You were — are — going through a lot," Sean says. "I understand. It's fine."
"Still." I take in a breath, preparing myself, and let it out slowly. "I owe you an explanation."
Quietly, I describe what happened after we split up that Saturday night: the awful phone call from my mother, the back-and-forth conversation with my father, the helplessness I felt and the frantic visits I made to Everwood's student finances department. Sean listens in silence, his gaze never leaving my face as I speak.
"Thanks for telling me," he says once I finish, and adds, "I'm sorry, Finn. That really sucks."
I brush snow off of my jacket to give myself an excuse to do something. "Yeah, well — it is what it is."
"Let's focus on something else," Sean suggests. His gaze is solemn as he considers the view. "Do you mind if I ask a question?"
"Ask away," I say.
He kicks a bit of snow off of the log, then asks, "That creature in your dream. What is it?"
I've never told anyone about it before, not even my parents. It was bad enough to bring things out of my dreams as a child and have no one believe me. My parents thought I was delusional. My mother thought I was making up excuses for my poor behaviour, and called me a disgrace.
"When I was fourteen, I spent a lot of time reading fantasy." I say, gathering the words together slowly. Reading was my way to escape the reality of my parents' divorce. I could spin fantastical images in my head for hours as I followed the heroes of the story. "At some point, I stumbled across a story that told the legend of the Night Mare. It was a dark and monstrous horse, and as I considered what it'd look like —" I make a vague gesture, "— there it was. Like an amalgamation of my inner demons."
Sean stills. He contemplates my words, then fixes his gaze on me. "Is there any chance you have dreamt of a fox?" he asks.
I stare at him, images of the grinning fox and its pronged antlers springing to mind. "Yes."
"That," he says, staring at the ground, "Was my imaginary friend when I was four. I was very convinced it was telling me things I should do, like grabbing other kids' toys, or daydreaming instead of listening to the teacher. The doctor pegged it as overactive imagination, and I came to think of it as something I should never discuss, because otherwise I was seen as crazy." Sean gazes at the view. "It's like some spirit haunting me."
There's a moment of silence as we ponder this new information. "I wonder if I am part of your dream, or if you are part of mine," Sean murmurs. "Or maybe none of it is real, and this," he says, gesturing to the scenery around us, "Is all a dream."
"If it is," I say, my gut twisting, "I don't want to wake up." A wellspring of emotion fills my chest, feelings I had tried to push aside in favor of academics, and had failed. I had thought about this, too, over the past few days.
My ears and cheeks are on fire as I face him. I say, the words stumbling off my lips, "Sean, I like you."
He blinks. Cautiously, "Like ... as a friend?"
"No." I swallow down the flurry of butterflies that fill my gut. "As more than a friend."
Sean stares at me, then buries his face in his hands. The tension in me crests, and right now, all I want to do is sink through the ground, or run and become lost in the woods. Should I take back my confession? Maybe I had misread the entire situation. Maybe —
"Why'd you have to say it first?" he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. "I was going to —" Sean cuts off and throws his arms around me. The sudden gesture catches me off-guard and my balance shifts, my foot slipping. I let out a startled yelp as we tumble off the log and roll down the snow-covered hill to a stop.
I'm crumpled on top of Sean, chest to chest, a tangle of limbs and cold snow and poking pine needles. Sean's red beanie has been knocked off into the snow beside him, letting his brown curls tumble loose. I am close enough that I can see falling flakes catch on his lashes and feel the fluttering of his heart against his ribs. All the warmth in me rushes to my cheeks.
"Sorry," I murmur, looking anywhere else but at him. Cold nips at my fingers as I push myself up so I'm not crushing him under my weight. "Are you okay?"
Sean's hand reaches up to my face, a feather-light touch brushing the edge of my jaw, and I am trapped by it. I shiver from the cold and the wild drumming of my heart in my chest.
"Finn." Sean whispers my name like a question, an answer, a siren's call. I meet his gaze. His eyes are as dark as the forest that surrounds us.
"Sean?" My pulse trips and tumbles under my skin. Sean takes a shaking breath, then his gaze drops to my mouth. A thousand words crowd in my throat.
"Finn, can I —"
"Yes."
He presses his lips to mine.
It is an eternity before we part, and when we do, I am breathless and unsteady. My fingers are tangled in Sean's hair, gone numb in the snow. His hands cup my cheeks and hold me close so our foreheads touch. I open my eyes and drown in the honey-brown fathomlessness of his.
"Finn," he says again, and his voice is raw from kissing. There's a sweetness to the way he says my name, wondrous and full of promise.
"Yes?" I say.
"Finn, I — um — can't feel my leg."
I realize then that I've been pressed against him all this time, my knee an unyielding weight on his thigh. My cheeks flush and I scramble off of him and stand, offering him a hand. Sean takes it and shakes snow out of his hair, then stomps his foot on the ground to wake it up.
"I'm sorry," I mumble, embarrassed.
"Don't be," He says. He shakes out his foot, then swipes his beanie off the ground and pulls it over his hair.
There is one more thing I wanted to discuss, and as it pushes to the forefront of my mind, my expression turns serious. "Sean," I say, "I really want this, but I want to make sure you're okay with it first."
Sean's brow furrows. "What do you mean?"
I swallow. "You're an amazing person," I say, "And I know I can be difficult. You've been putting up with all my baggage and problems, and I'm super thankful, but I know it's a burden and it's awful of me to dump that on you. You don't deserve that." My breath shakes slightly as I inhale, and I try to clamp down on it and keep my voice even. "And — I'm not a great person, and you're so good, and — and there's plenty of other amazing people out there, and —"
"Hey, Finn. Finn." Sean puts his hands on my face, gazing at me with serious brown eyes. "You're an amazing person. Plus, I literally just kissed you. Of course I want this, Finn."
"Are you sure?" I ask. I wonder if I can really have this, even with all my troubles and downfalls.
"I'm sure." Sean lifts a hand to brush snow out of my hair, ruffling it, then leans in and kisses me again. "I love you," he murmurs, his breath hot on my cheek. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to say that."
A smile breaks across my face. "How long?" I ask, raising an eyebrow, and Sean laughs.
"A long time," he says. He reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together, his hot palm warming my frozen fingers. I marvel at how easily he does it, and how right it feels. Our hands swing between us as we hike back up the hill and follow the trail back to Everwood.
My mother wouldn't approve of this — relationships take too much time away from studies. Relationships are for after stability, after getting a degree and a job and a steady salary. But right now, I don't care what my mother thinks. Giddy happiness burns through my system like a drug, electrifying every nerve. As difficult as these months have been, everything leading up to this moment has been worth it.
I love him.
Sean squeezes my fingers. "I'm really, really happy right now," he says, and his smile is as bright as the sun.
"I am, too," I say with a laugh.
"Should we tell someone?"
"We could."
Sean chuckles. "Beth is going to have a fit when she finds out."
"I know."
In our footsteps, black leaves and colorful flowers mingle and bloom.
THE END
~*~
Wow, we've finally made it to the end!!! Woohoo!!! That's 21k words. Huzzah!
Please let me know your thoughts: Are you happy with this ending? Were you expecting more?
Thanks for sticking around! I'll be putting up an afterword soon.