[ Quote Aesthetic of the Chapterish ]
We slept in all morning and most of the afternoon. Well, is it really sleeping in when you go to bed at 7 AM? Misty purple light filters into my room through the speckled curtains. I can tell it's not sunny outside because it's more of an overcast light. A mystic and magical overcast light that makes my room hazy and dazey.
Brooks walks around my loft, bragging in all his bare-chested glory. I slip into jeans and a sweater before joining him in the kitchen.
"Why the clothes?" He frowns.
"It's called starting my day." I roll my eyes.
Brooks's eyes flicker to his phone on the counter and a grin spreads across his lips. "It's 4 o'clock. PM."
"Sorry. Some bro kept me up all night," I tease.
Brooks walks up behind me, throwing his arms over my shoulder and backing me up into him. I lean my head back into his chest and look up at his chiseled jaw.
"Dinner?"
His whispered voice tickles my ear.
"Mhm," I nod. "You need a shirt."
///
Brooks picks the restaurant –a small organic place closer to downtown. I select a fresh salad to pair with my glass of white wine. Staring at Brooks across the table, I'm flashing back to Corbel Finn. Aka our official first date. A month's worth of dates, I think he called it.
"So," Brooks says mischievously, his fingers pinching his own wine glass.
"So," I echo.
"Should we address the obvious?" He asks seriously, like we're at some business meeting over dinner.
"Yes. We are exclusive," I tease, sipping my white.
"Cheers." Brooks raises his glass to mine.
Clink.
"What else is obvious?" I ask, intrigued by his mood, by his mind and where it's at right now.
"While I will visit you every month forever, I'm just wondering what we should do. Long-term." Brooks leans across the table, smiling.
I study his eyes, trying hard to emulate his soul-gazing ability. His face is still, hard to read, but damn his smile. That ain't hard to read. Open book.
"Rack up miles?" I joke.
"Come on, Ems. What do you see the next year being like? How's this play out?" Brooks asks.
"Well, if we're still on the same page by New Years then I'll consider it a win," I say. I hide my quivering lips behind my wine glass.
Keep calm and drink on.
"I mean it!" Brooks insists.
"Me too," I nod. "Aren't we taking things slow –I mean, like no pressure?" I can feel myself panicking. I feel myself hyperaware of the couple dining at the table next to us.
"We are. But come on, it's fun! What do you want? What do you dream-want?"
"Dream want? What?" I ask, rolling my eyes at his eagerness.
"Dream-want. Like if we could be whatever you wanted. Do whatever you wanted. Anything. Anywhere." Brooks stares at me.
Go anywhere = running away.
"OK," I say, mulling over his words. "Anything?"
Brooks nods, his grin monopolizing his perfect face. "What do you dream-want for us?"
"What do you dream-want?" I question.
"I asked you first," Brooks frowns. I can tell he is sensing my reluctance.
"I'll get back to you." I smile like I'm trying to be coy, but really I'm just the QOA. Queen of Avoidance, yes.
The walk back is uneventful and like earlier on my way home from the studio I hardly remember moving my legs. All the sudden we are climbing floors and I'm jiggling my key into the lock again.
The door shuts behind me and I toss my leftovers onto the counter, my hour-old salad already wilting under the oily balsamic.
Why did I HAVE to react like that?
He only asked what I wanted, well what I dream-wanted for us. Like in my wildest dreams.
And here I am again, unable to answer for some unknown reason. Like the air is caught in my lungs. Like my voice forgets itself. Like the earth itself doesn't want us together.
No.
Freak.
I just clam up because it's part of the game. Brooks needs to admit everything first.
I sit on the edge of my bed and tuck my hands between my knees.
"Don't get like this," Brooks groans, running his fingers through his hair.
"Like what?" I ask, trying to sound innocent.
"This. All second-guessy. Like you don't know what you want this to be," Brooks accuses.
Shit.
"I –I mean –I don't know," I say, stuttering on my own words like my mind is stumbling over its own thoughts.
Come on, bitch.
"Your problem is you don't know what you want! EVER! It's always been your problem, Ems." Brooks's salty tenor reverberates through my bones. Not a good feel.
"That's not my problem!" I raise my voice, folding my arms. "My problem is I want you. YOU! But this relationship," I pause for dramatic effect. Also because it still feels strange to call this a relationship. "It's not supposed to be like this."
I think of the quiet and awkward silences when the unspoken truth screams the loudest. Are we doomed? Again?
"What's it supposed to be like, then? Tell me." Brooks remains calm. New development. "Tell me what kind of love you want, Em."
What kind of love do I want? Easy? Surface level? Boring?
I think of the failed relationships (looking at you, Trevor) and boy-toy things I've had these last 10 years. It's dawning on me that I may not have taken any of them seriously. Maybe I was always hoping for that unrealistic Jay-Emmy reunion on the beach.
Unrealistic turned to reality.
"I want epic love. The tragic kind you see in sad movies. I want that, only, I want a happy ending." I sigh.
Dramatic? Maybe. True? Definitely maybe.
"What does that even mean? Do you even know? Sad movie love with a happy ending twist? That seems normal to you?" Brooks asks, cocking his head down.
"It's what seems real to me. We're already IN a sad movie! Fuck, since I was 15 all I've ever wanted was you. I just didn't want it to be complicated and now that's all it ever is!" I run my fingers through my hair.
"It doesn't need to be, Emmy Lou. That's what I'm saying. It doesn't need to be complicated. Not anymore. We can figure it all out. Like adults."
Brooks kneels in the space between my legs. With me on the bed and him kneeling, we are almost eye-to-eye.
"If you dream-want epic love, then that's what we'll have." Brooks almost whispers into my lips.
"It shouldn't be this hard, Jay." I shake my head.
Brooks reaches for my hand. I let him take it.
"I didn't sign up for easy. I signed up for you." Brooks looks at me, his eyes searing into mine like he's branding my soul.
"Is this really how you think love should be? How love is supposed to be?" I ask, frowning.
"Our love maybe. And standing here, I think it's the only love I've known. The only real one." Brooks shrugs.
I see a small trace of a smile on his lips. Mine react almost instantly and I can feel myself calming down. I can feel my mouth smiling and my heart following suit.
I don't dream-want epic love.
I dream-want us.