by CJ Lyons
Maybe that’s a gift I could give him.
I’ll buy a dictionary, and find all the words that suit him. Then I’ll give it to him. Maybe that will lessen the memory of those other words.
It’s a plan.
I helped him clean them off, carefully scrubbing away the ink that seared into his flesh, taking extra care around the pre-existing wounds.
That same apologetic shame from the first time he was here started up as I worked around his collarbone and shoulders. His skin was raw and pink; it was our form of eraser, scrubbed pain.
“Thank you…” he murmured, as I got a towel to wrap around him. I hugged him from behind, placing a kiss on his cheek.
“People are wicked.” Noah mumbled, still staring into the mirror. “They make others ugly with their words. It’s difficult to see beauty for the description.”
“There are beautiful words too, you know.”
Finally, he tore his eyes away from the mirror, and turned around to look at me. His face was deadly serious. “Tell me one.”
“…love?”
Noah looked away, tasting the word on his lips, and then looked in the mirror, staring me in the eye.
“Like friend, is it? We rely on these words to define us.” I only realised just now that he was referring to us looking up the definition of ‘friend’ before.
“And we need them, right? You have to appreciate the words that aren’t perfect.”
“The perfect words.” Noah said it. That damn phrase that keeps invading my thoughts.
After that, the evening was quiet, and Terra was at work for most of it. She got home at around eleven-thirty, and almost immediately went up to bed after a brief greeting and snack.
As I was heading up to bed, Noah caught my arm, “Please, could I…”
I shifted his hold so he held my hand instead of my wrist. “You’d have followed me anyway.”
“I’ll always follow you.”
I blushed a bit at the seriousness in his voice. The way he can just say things like that is kind of amazing.
So we slept. It was quiet and without any sort of awkwardness. Just a calm, peaceful intimacy.
The perfect sleep.
17 Days, 10 February, Tuesday
We decided not to go to school today. I know we must be worrying Julia and Ariel, but I figured I’d call Ariel later and let her know we’re okay.
As I woke up, I noticed Noah was just lying beside me, and watching me.
Now, I used to perceive that whole “watching someone while they’re sleeping” thing as a bit creepy. But since it was him, I didn’t mind.
It was a long, peaceful day, mostly spent relaxing in my room.
I have no complaints nor anything particularly interesting to report today.
I think tomorrow will be another matter.
16 Days, 11 February, Wednesday
I gave him the letter from May today. It occurred to me yesterday evening, that I had completely forgotten about it, but…
I dunno, for some reason, I felt like I should just wait for today.
Maybe May knew I’d wait this long to give it to him. She is psychic, after all.
I gave it to him in French today, after digging it out of my binder, which is where I had been keeping it.
“Merci.” He murmured, making Madame Tremblay smile.
She rattled something off in French, which Noah answered. They spoke for a few more moments, and she cheerily went off to her desk.
I guess it must make her really happy to know that someone is learning what she’s teaching them. Although, I wouldn’t be surprised if he already knew French.
I copied down the vocabulary notes with a very detached interest, wondering what the letter said. I hope it wasn’t anything that has to do with my expiry date.
As the work period got into full swing, I turned around in my chair, beaming at him. “Did May have anything interesting to say?”
“She wants to meet me for my birthday on the 28th outside our aunt’s house.”
My heart dropped. “The 28th…” I smiled again, to hide my initial horror at the mention of that day. I won’t be here. It was a terrifying notion. That Noah was making plans and unaware that everything was going to end on the 27th.
I wish there was some way I could just live one more day.
That could be my gift to him. To just live for that final day, and sleep through the night to the next day with him. There’s really nothing else I can ask for now.
One more day. That’s not too grand a request, is it?
I bought a new dictionary at the bookstore today. I’m going to go through it and find his perfect words. I’ve got a red pen.
15 Days, 12 February, Thursday
More adverts for Valentine’s Day. Terra is going out, and it seems Julia even has a meeting with someone. Ariel didn’t mention anyone in particular, but I did notice she kept staring at Noah during lunch.
She really must have a crush on him. I do feel sort of lousy about that. I wonder if they’ll be better friends when I’m gone.
I really mustn’t be thinking thoughts like that.
I was re-reading old entries today, as well, and more questions came to light.
What were the names of Noah’s friends who died? Do they have graves?
What was that thing he couldn’t tell me, that I let slide?
It’s odd to read the old entries, and to sympathize with my past self. Those situations are over, and, even though I experienced them, I still feel like a character in some grand tragedy.
It’s an unsettling feeling.
I also swear that I saw the Prophet wandering around the school today as well. Now that was unsettling. I thought I saw him leaning against the wall in the library, and walking past me in the hallway.
It’s like he’s a reaper, just waiting for me to die so he can collect my soul.
Creepy.
He’s such a creepy guy.
I got up to the letter N today. I’m hoping to get all the way to the end so I can give Noah the dictionary for Valentine’s Day. It really would make a good gift.
I think in order for a gift to be very suitable, it must be meaningful.
14 Days, 13 February, Friday
No school Friday!
Which meant that last night, we stayed up late watching telly and reading books. We also worked on our sketchbook assignments, which I can’t seem to really get into. I think the whole idea of assignments is messing with me.
Not to mention, they’re all too damn hard. Our assignment was to get together with a classmate and draw each other.
Now, of course this means that I’m supposed to draw Noah, which I was hesitant to do because I know I couldn’t do him justice. (And I’d have to draw the scars on his face, I think he might be upset about that.)
After struggling with the drawing, (or lack thereof), I decided to do the laundry. Noah always offers to help me, but I always decline. I kind of like the mindless meditation that accompanies the menial task.
As I was coming to collect the throw blankets in the living room, I was completely stricken by the way Noah was sitting.
He’s eating a lolly.
Oh my god.
He’s sprawled over the big armchair and he’s sucking on a cherry lolly while he’s reading a book.
That has to be the sexiest thing I have ever seen in my entire life.
Every time he turns a page, he takes the lolly out of his mouth really slowly, his lips forming an O around it, and I see a little flick of his tongue. The lolly makes a little smacking noise as it parts ways with his tongue, and catches a shine from the lamp. He licked his lips, unaware of how incredibly attractive that makes him look.
Then, slowly, he sticks his tongue out and catches the lolly on it, pulling it back into his mouth.
All the time he’s teasing me, his eyes are focused completely on the book, scanning over the text. He doesn’t even know I’m watching.
I can hardly contain how irres
istible I find him right now. I wish I was that lolly.
…my gosh I sound like such a pervert.
I’m going to do the laundry. Lalalalala!!!
I also got to the end of the dictionary. (Somehow. Geez, that took forever.) There were so many words to apply to him. Amazing, Beautiful, Caring, Delicate… the list goes on and on.
But at least now I can prove to him that there are beautiful words. It’s hardcopy proof.
13 Days, 14 February, Saturday
It was a beautiful day. I can’t believe I only have two weeks left. I’m going to live and love… and then I’ll leave.
I’ve made peace with it.
I’m happy I get to spend my last days with Noah, and we can live happily together until my end.
Last night, I visited Tobias. The blood seemed to have reached a staying height at just above the desks, so he was sitting on the counter.
He was writing something furiously when I arrived, and didn’t stop when I sat down beside him.
“Hey there.” I smiled, looking at his paper with interest. “What are you writing?”
“I am rewriting. I am allowed to do that. I am using a red pen.”
“I see that. What are you re-writing?”
“Gemini.”
“Alright then.”
There was a long silence, where he continued to write. Then, he threw his papers and pen into the blood, frowning at them as they slowly sunk down. “I ran out of ink.”
“I’m going to die soon.”
“I know. I am not happy about this. I do not want you to die.”
“That’s nice of you to say.”
“Noah will lose his mind. That is his most precious thing. He is going to lose everything that day.”
“…Will he lose you?”
“Yes, even I will be lost to him. Everyone will become strangers to him. Tragic.”
“This too shall pass. In the end, we’re all going to be happy.”
Tobias considered me for a while, before sighing deeply. “I hope you are right, Casmaran.”
I woke beside Noah, observing he was sleeping peacefully. I counted three deep breaths before shuffling deeper under the blankets and pulling him close.
Noah was delighted with the dictionary when I presented it to him. At first, I’m certain he just thought it was a normal dictionary, and then his expression changed when he read the dedication in the front.
This is what I wrote.
To Noah,
I know you think that words only ruin things, and that we can’t see beauty for the description… but what if all we’re given is the description? We find beauty in words, just like words can find beauty.
These are your words; the perfect words.
Love Aerie
There.
1. Make Noah smile for real.
2. Begin a collection of something.
3. Make snow angels on New Years Eve.
4. Sew a marvellous dress for Terra for Christmas.
5. Dance in the rain.
6. Paint a picture.
7. Learn to knit.
8. Buy a lava lamp.
9. Write something really interesting and profound, that people will remember. (Note: perfect words)
10. Fall in love, even for a few seconds.
Now the only things left are trite.
I have completed the important items. I feel like I’m just biding time now.
There are still moments to be had.
Like the most beautiful moment I’ve ever experienced, earlier today.
Terra left for her date at around seven, and made a point to tell me she wouldn’t be home tonight. Initially, I took this to mean that she was going to go and hook up with her Tony or whatever, but then I realised her actual intent.
She was telling me this to let me know that she wouldn’t be home to disturb us. Right. She knows what I was planning.
Which I suppose means that I must not have been disguising my attraction as well as I thought. At every opportunity today, I’d be touching him somehow. I am your typical teenage guy. There’s no escaping that, I guess.
We went to my room, as a sort of mutual agreement of what was going to happen. Once I closed the door, he pushed me into it, and captured my lips in a quick, hot kiss.
“The perfect words…” he murmured, “My perfect word. Aerie.”
I grinned, and we fell onto my bed. We lay on our sides, facing each other for a few moments. Noah touched the collar of my shirt, unbuttoning three buttons before stopping. He just stared at my chest, with an almost mournful look.
I realised that he looked that way because my skin is relatively unblemished. I suppose there is some beauty in the blank canvas. I took off my shirt completely, allowing him a complete look.
As I reached for his shirt, he grabbed my hand, twisting my arm gently, taking in the complete blankness of my skin. I touched his face, already aware of the rough bumps of the scars below his eye. Noah shrank away from my touch, obviously still bothered by the scars.
“These scars are your words. Without them, there’s no record of your story, right?”
He blinked slowly, a smile forming on his lips. “Yes…” He kissed me again, and allowed me to unbutton his shirt. Each button slid open with a satisfying tug and release, displaying more of his wrecked body. I threw his shirt somewhere into my room. It didn’t matter where.
“Tell me about all of these. Then I can share the story with you so it’s less painful.”
Noah stared at me for five full seconds, with a curious expression on his face.
“This one…” he indicated a large scrape up his side, “I received this when I tried to escape from him and fell into a glass table. This was also what caused this,” he pointed to a few pockmarks on his left pectoral. “And this.” He grabbed my hand, twining his fingers around it. I took this to mean that he was indicating the scars on his palm.
I followed his story as he read it aloud, tracing the darkened lines with my fingers.
This was from a knife,
This was from a fist,
You can see my life,
Scars upon my list.
Now you see why I haven’t pursued poetry.
“He struck me with a metal pan, which caused this.” He moved his hair away from his sharp jawline, revealing a dent, where a large chunk of skin was obviously chiselled out.
I felt it against my fingertips, leaning forward and kissing it gently. At that moment, I could feel his heartbeat beneath my lips, and kissed his throat in rhythm with it.
The reactions that bloomed underneath my touch were amazing. At that exact moment, he was happy, blissful… excited.
Noah moved closer, his bony torso right next to mine. As he fidgeted slightly under my touch, the more jagged scars tickled my bare skin.
“Aerie…” he ran his long fingers through my hair, making my breath hitch. (It seriously felt awesome.) He removed my glasses, placing them on the nightstand with care. “My Aerie…” He placed his hands on either side of my face, looking deep into my eyes. I swear I could see the turquoise colour reflected in his irises.
Then, his lips touched mine again, and everything began.
I want to describe this delicately as well as truthfully.
The whole thing, in a brief summary, was clumsy, passionate, and amazing. Concurrently.
It didn’t take long for us to be completely revealed to each other, both of us finding wonder and interest in the other’s body.
I revelled in the detail of his stories, and he revelled in the utter blankness of mine. It was like I was eager to transcribe those stories, so we both had proper accounts of our story.
It wasn’t my story and his story now. It was ours.
Once we became one, the lines blurred and merged, scattering words and letters and scars between us. They crashed and shattered, bleeding and singing our songs and stories aloud. Pages were torn, and placed between others, and our fingers entwined around the pen.
; Ink ran between us, filling every line that had yet to be written. It dripped from our tongues, translating the language between our bodies.
By the end, there was space for both of us to write.
The perfect words.
Our story.
12 Days, 15 February, Sunday
Another lazy Sunday. This will be my penultimate Sunday. It’s kind of weird to think of it like that, but there you are.
Around ten, Noah dragged himself out of bed; I could hear him moving around and making to sneak out of my room. I rolled over and looked at him as he opened the door. From what I could tell, he was wearing my nightshirt, and that was it. (I didn’t have my glasses on.)
“Where you goin?” I mumbled, sitting up slowly.
“Just a quick shower, go back to sleep.”
I complied, and rolled back over, and lay there in a half-sleep for quite a while. If this was his definition of a quick shower…
He really was taking too long. I heaved myself out of bed and pulled on some shorts, expecting to hear the sound of water from my bathroom, but didn't. This led me to two options.
Either he is finished his shower and didn’t come back to me, or he’s downstairs.
As I made my way downstairs I detected the sound of water from his bathroom. Go figure. Noah does seem the type to be really particular about his hygiene space. I knocked on the door and waited for a response, but received none.
This reminded me of the first time he was here. Huh.
Slowly, I turned the knob and opened the door, very aware of the increased volume of the water.
“Hey, Noah… you alright in here?”
Again, no response.
I looked to the shower with decidedly less apprehension than previous scenarios, and there he was.
Noah was sleeping in the shower.
Just lying there, in the bottom of the tub, completely relaxed and peaceful. Water fell on him like rain, bouncing off his lips and chin, across his torso, and all the way down to his legs. The little beads of water reflected a brilliant shine of light from the window at the top of the shower, where warm sunlight shone through.
I pulled the curtain aside, and touched his shoulder, making him mumble and open his eyes.