by Tillie Cole
I knew then exactly what she was asking. Because she stared at my lips like they were a betrayer. She stared at them like something she once loved, lost, and could never win back.
Ice-coldness ran through me as Poppy pulled her shaking hand away. Her expression was guarded, her breath held in her chest as though protecting herself from what I would say. But I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t, that look on her face slew me.
Poppy exhaled and said, “I know about Avery, of course, but were there any others in Oslo? I mean, I know there will have been, but, was it a lot?”
“Does it matter?” I asked, my voice low. Poppy’s paper heart was still in my hand, the significance of it almost scalding my skin.
The promise of our lips.
The promise of our halved hearts.
Forever always.
Poppy slowly began to shake her head, but then, shoulders slumping, she nodded once. “Yes,” she whispered, “it matters. It shouldn’t. I set you free.” She dropped her head. “But it does. It matters more than you’d understand.”
She was wrong. I understood why it mattered so much. It did to me too.
“I was away a long time,” I said. In that moment, I knew that the anger that held me captive had taken back control. Some sick part of me wanted to hurt her like she’d hurt me.
“I know,” Poppy agreed, her head still low.
“I’m seventeen,” I continued. Poppy’s eyes snapped to mine.
Her face had paled. “Oh,” she said, and I could hear every hint of pain in that tiny word. “So what I feared is true. You have been with others, intimately … like you were with me. I … I just…”
Poppy moved to the edge of the bed, but I reached out and caught her retreating wrist. “Why does it matter?” I demanded, and saw her eyes glisten with tears.
The anger within me dimmed slightly, but it came back as I thought of those lost years. Years I’d spent drinking and partying away my pain, while Poppy was sick. It almost made me shake with rage.
“I don’t know,” Poppy said, then shook her head. “That was a lie. Because I do know. It’s because you’re mine. And despite it all, all the things that have happened between us, I kept a vain hope that you would keep your promise. That it meant that much to you too. Despite everything.”
I dropped my hand from her wrist, and Poppy got to her feet. She headed for her door. Just as she reached for the doorknob, I said quietly, “It did.”
Poppy froze, her back bunched. “What?”
She didn’t turn. Instead, I got to my feet and walked to where she stood. I leaned down, making sure that she would hear my confession. My breath blew her hair from her ear, as I said, so quietly I could barely hear myself, “The promise did mean as much to me. You meant that much to me … you still do. Somewhere, underneath all this anger … there’s you and only you. It will always be that way for me.” Poppy still hadn’t moved. I drew in closer. “Forever always.”
She turned, until our chests were touching and her green eyes were staring into mine. “You … I don’t understand,” she said.
I slowly lifted my hand and pushed it through her hair. Poppy’s eyes fluttered to a close as I did so, but they opened again to watch me. “I kept my promise,” I admitted and watched the shock cross her face.
She shook her head. “But I saw … you kissed—”
“I kept my promise,” I interrupted. “Since the day I left you, I haven’t kissed anyone else. My lips are still yours. There’s never been anyone else. There never will be.”
Poppy’s mouth opened, then closed. When it opened again, she said, “But you and Avery…”
My jaw clenched. “I knew you were near. I was pissed. I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me.” Poppy shook her head in disbelief. I stepped closer still. “I knew seeing me with Avery would do that to you. So I sat beside her and waited until you appeared. I wanted you to believe that I was about to kiss her … until I saw your face. Until I saw you run from the room. Until I couldn’t stand seeing the pain I’d caused.”
Tears spilled down Poppy’s cheeks. “Why would you do that? Rune, you wouldn’t—”
“I would and I did,” I said, curtly.
“Why?” she whispered.
I smiled humorlessly. “Because you’re right. I’m not the boy you knew. I was filled with so much anger when I was taken from you, that after a while, it was the only thing I felt. I tried to hide it when we talked, fought against it, knowing I still had you with me even if we were thousands of miles apart. But when you cut me off, I didn’t care anymore. I let it consume me. It has consumed me so much since then that it has become me.” I reached down for Poppy’s hand and brought it over my chest.
“I’m half a heart. This, who I am now, was due to a life devoid of you. This darkness, this anger, was born from you not being by my side. Poppymin. My adventurer. My girl.” And then the pain returned. For that brief few minutes, I had forgotten our new reality. “And now,” I said through gritted teeth, “now you tell me you’re leaving me for good. I…” I choked on my words.
“Rune,” Poppy murmured, and threw herself into my arms, wrapping hers tightly around my waist.
Instantly, my arms locked around her like a vise. As her body melted into mine, I breathed. I breathed the first clean breath in a long while. Then it became restricted, strangled, when I said, “I can’t lose you, Poppymin. I can’t. I can’t let you go. I can’t live without you. You’re my forever always. You’re meant to walk beside me through this life. You need me and I need you. That’s all there is to it.” I felt her shaking in my arms. “I won’t be able to let you go. Because wherever you go, I have to go too. I’ve tried living without you, it doesn’t work.”
Slowly, and as carefully as she could, Poppy lifted her head, separating our bodies just enough to look at me and whisper brokenly, “I can’t take you with me where I’m going.”
As her words sunk in, I stumbled back, freeing my arms from around her waist. I didn’t stop until I sat down on the edge of the bed. I couldn’t handle it. How the hell do I deal with all of this?
I couldn’t understand how Poppy could be so strong.
How did she face this death sentence with such dignity? All I wanted to do was curse at the world, to destroy everything in my path.
My head fell forward. And I cried. I cried tears that I didn’t realize I had left. It was my reserve, the last wave of the devastation I was feeling. The tears that acknowledged the truth I didn’t want to accept.
That Poppymin was dying.
She was really, truly dying.
I felt the bed dip beside me. I smelled her sweet scent. I followed her as she guided me to lie back in bed. I followed her silent instruction to fall into her arms. I released everything that had been pent up inside as she stroked her hands through my hair. I wrapped my arms around her waist and held on, trying my damnedest to memorize how this felt. How she felt in my arms. Her heartbeat strong and her body warm.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but, eventually, the tears dried up. I didn’t move from Poppy’s arms. She didn’t stop caressing my back with her fingers.
I managed to wet my throat enough to ask, “How did it all happen, Poppymin? How did you find out?”
Poppy was quiet for a few seconds, before she sighed. “It doesn’t matter, Rune.”
I sat up and looked into her eyes. “I want to know.”
Poppy ran the back of her hand over my cheek and nodded. “I know you do. And you will. But not tonight. This—us, like this—is all that matters tonight. Nothing more.”
I didn’t break my gaze from hers, and neither did she. A numb kind of peace had settled between us. The air was thick as I leaned in, wanting nothing more than to press my mouth to hers. To feel her lips against mine.
To add another kiss to her jar.
When my mouth was just a hairsbreadth from Poppy’s, I moved to kiss her cheek instead. It was soft and gentle.
But it wasn’t enough.
Shifting upward, I pressed another kiss, and another, to every inch of her cheek, over her forehead and across her nose. Poppy shifted beneath me. As I drew back, I guessed from the understanding in her expression that Poppy knew I wasn’t pushing things.
Because as much as I didn’t want to accept it, we were different people now. The boy and girl who kissed each other as easily as breathing had changed.
A true kiss would come when we’d worked our way back to us.
I planted one more kiss on the end of Poppy’s nose, causing a light giggle to spill from her lips. It seemed as if the anger had subsided just enough to allow me to feel its joy take root in my heart.
As I pressed my forehead to Poppy’s, I assured her, “My lips are yours. Not for anyone else.”
In response, Poppy whispered a kiss on my cheek. I felt the effect of this kiss travel all through my body. I tucked my head in the crook of her neck and allowed myself a small smile when she whispered in my ear, “My lips are yours too.”
I rolled to pull Poppy into my arms, and our eyes eventually drifted to a close. I fell asleep quicker than I thought. Tired, heartbroken and emotionally scarred, sleep came quickly. But then it always did when Poppy was by my side.
It was the third moment that defined my life. The night I found out I would lose the girl I loved. Knowing our moments together were numbered, I held on to her tighter, refusing to let go.
She fell asleep doing exactly the same…
…a powerful echo of who we used to be.
* * *
The sound of rustling woke me.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Poppy’s quiet silhouette drifted toward the window. “Poppymin?”
Poppy halted, then finally looked back at me. I swallowed, chasing away the razor blades in my throat, as Poppy came to stand before me. She was wearing a thick parka coat over track pants and a sweater. A backpack lay at her feet.
I frowned. It was still dark.
“What are you doing?”
Poppy made her way back to the window, looking back to playfully ask, “Are you coming?”
She grinned at me and my heart cracked. It splintered at how beautiful she was. My lips curved upward at her infectious happiness, and I asked again, “Where the hell are you going?”
Poppy pulled back the curtain and pointed at the sky. “To watch the sunrise.” She cocked her head to the side as she looked at me. “I know it’s been a while, but did you forget I did this?”
A wave of warmth flowed through me. I hadn’t forgotten.
Getting to my feet, I allowed myself a small huff of a laugh. I immediately stopped. Poppy noticed, and sighing sadly, she walked back to me. I glanced down at her, wanting nothing more than to wrap my hand around the nape of her neck and take her mouth with my own.
Poppy studied my face, then took my hand. Taken aback, I stared down at her fingers, wrapped around mine. They looked so small as they gently squeezed my hand.
“It’s okay, you know?” she said.
“What?” I asked, edging closer.
Poppy’s grip stayed on my hand as the other lifted toward my face. She rose to her tiptoes and laid her fingertips on my lips.
My heart beat a little faster.
“It’s okay to laugh,” she said, her voice as soft as a feather. “It’s okay to smile. It’s okay to feel happy. Or what’s the point in life?” What she was saying hit me hard. Because I didn’t want to do or feel those things. I felt guilty just thinking about being happy.
“Rune,” Poppy said. Her hand drifted down to rest on the side of my neck. “I know how you must be feeling. I’ve dealt with this for a while now. But I also know how it makes me feel seeing my favorite people in the world, the ones that I love with my whole heart, hurt and upset.”
Poppy’s eyes shone. It made me feel worse. “Poppy…,” I went to say, covering her hand with my own.
“It’s worse than any pain. It’s worse than facing death. Seeing my illness leech the joy from those I love is the worst thing of all.” She swallowed, drew in a soft breath, and whispered, “My time is limited. We all know that. So I want that time to be special…” Poppy smiled. And it was one of her wide, bright smiles. The kind that could make even an angry guy like me see a sliver of light. “As special as special can be.”
And so I smiled.
I let her see the happiness she brought out in me. I let her see that those words—the words from our childhood—had broken through the dark.
At least for the moment.
“Freeze,” Poppy suddenly said. I did. A slight giggle left her throat.
“What?” I asked, still holding her hand.
“Your smile,” she replied and playfully dropped her mouth as if in shock. “It’s still there!” she whispered, dramatically. “I thought it was a mythical legend like Sasquatch or the Loch Ness Monster. But it’s there! I’ve witnessed it with my own eyes!”
Poppy framed her face with her hands and batted her eyelashes in exaggeration.
I shook my head, fighting a real laugh this time. When my laugh had calmed, Poppy was still smiling at me. “Only you,” I said. Her smile softened. Inching down, I pulled the collar of her coat closer to her neck. “Only you could make me smile.”
Poppy closed her eyes, just for a moment. “Then that’s what I’ll be doing as much as I can.” She looked into my eyes. “I’ll make you smile.” She rose higher onto her toes, until our faces were almost touching. “And I’ll be determined.”
A bird chirped outside, and Poppy’s gaze drifted to the window. “We have to go if we want to catch it,” she urged, then stepped back, breaking our moment.
“Then let’s go,” I replied and, pulling on my boots, followed her. I picked up her bag and threw it over my shoulder; Poppy smiled to herself as I did.
I slid open the window. Poppy dashed to her bed. When she came back, she was holding a blanket in her hands. She glanced up at me. “It’s cold this early.”
“That coat won’t be warm enough?” I asked.
Poppy held the blanket to her chest. “This is for you.” She pointed to my t-shirt. “You’ll be cold in the grove.”
“You know I’m Norwegian, right?” I asked dryly.
Poppy nodded. “You’re a real life Viking.” She leaned in. “And between you and me, you’re really good on adventures, as predicted.”
I shook my head in amusement. She rested her hand on my arm.
“But, Rune?”
“Yes?”
“Even Vikings get cold.”
I nudged my head toward the open window. “Go on or we’ll miss the sun.”
Poppy slid through the window, still smiling, and I followed behind. The morning was cold, the wind stronger than the night before.
Poppy’s hair whipped at her face. Concerned that she was cold, and that it might make her sick, I reached for her arm and pulled her to face me. Poppy looked surprised, until I lifted her heavy hood and pulled it up over her head.
I tied the strings to secure it in place. Poppy watched me the whole time. My actions were slowed under her rapt attention. When the bow was tied, my hands stilled, and I looked deeply into her eyes.
“Rune,” she said after several strained seconds of silence. I tipped my chin, quietly waiting for her to continue. “I can still see your light. Beneath the anger, you’re still there.”
Her words made me step back in surprise. I glanced up at the sky. It was beginning to lighten. I walked forward. “You coming?”
Poppy sighed and rushed to catch up with me. I slipped my hands into my pockets as we made our way, in silence, to the grove. Poppy was looking all around her on the way. I tried to follow what she was seeing, but it only ever appeared to be birds or trees or grass swaying in the wind. I frowned, wondering what had her so transfixed. But this was Poppy, she’d always danced to her own drumbeat. She’d always seen more going on in the world than anyone else I knew.
She saw the light piercing the dark. She saw
the good through the bad.
It was the only explanation I had for why she hadn’t told me to leave her alone. I knew she saw me as different, changed. Even if she hadn’t told me so, I would have seen it in the way she watched me. Her stare was guarded sometimes.
She would never have looked at me like that before.
When we entered the grove, I knew where we would sit. We walked to the biggest tree—our tree—and Poppy opened her backpack. She pulled out a blanket to sit on.
When she had laid it out, she gestured for me to sit. I did, resting my back against the wide tree trunk. Poppy sat in the center of the blanket and leaned back on her hands.
The wind seemed to have dropped. Untying the bow from the hood’s strings, she let the hood fall back, showing her face. Poppy’s attention turned to the brightening horizon, the sky now gray, with tints of red and orange pushing through.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my smokes and brought one to my mouth. I struck the lighter, lit the smoke and drew in a drag, feeling the instant it hit my lungs.
The smoke billowed around me as I exhaled slowly. I caught Poppy watching me closely. Resting an arm on my raised knee, I stared right back at her.
“You smoke.”
“Ja.”
“You don’t want to stop?” she asked. I could hear in her voice that this was a request. And I could see by the flicker of a smile on her lips that she knew I was onto her.
I shook my head. It calmed me. I wouldn’t be quitting anytime soon.
We sat in silence, until Poppy looked back at the rising dawn and asked, “Did you ever watch the sunrise in Oslo?”
I followed her gaze to the now-pink horizon. The stars were beginning to disappear in a fan of light.
“No.”
“Why not?” Poppy asked, shifting her body to face me.
I took another drag of my smoke and tipped my head back to exhale. I lowered my head and shrugged. “Never occurred to me.”
Poppy sighed and turned away once more. “What an opportunity wasted,” she said, waving her arm toward the sky. “I’ve never been out of the US, never seen a sunrise anywhere else, and there you were, in Norway, and you never rose early to watch the new day roll in.”