In all the places, I run into him at the supermarket.
I catch him turning into the snack aisle, dodging the plastic hearts that hung from the ceiling around the store. It's two days before Valentine's, and the store has gone all out. I watch him narrowly avoid crashing his shopping cart into the small, clearly on a sugar rush child of six, who was running around as his mother scolded him.
I casually peruse the chocolate section, pretending to decide which type of Hershey bar I wanted. Chocolate has become something of an addiction for me ever since we've gotten back from the island. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him grab three bags of chips and toss them into his cart, pushing it down the aisle as he prepares to leave.
Before I can think it through, I call to him, "Jackson?"
His shoulders tense slightly, but he turns around as I nervously push back my long black hair behind my ear. "Hey." His greeting is a challenge, and mine is a submission.
"Hey." I motion to his cart, "Grocery shopping?"
"Just stocking up for the road trip," he replies neutrally. He seems to struggle with something for a moment before, "You?"
My lips twist up in a half smirk, unusual for me, I know. Out of habit, I guess, he mirrors me. "Candy craving, actually." He nods, and motions for me to walk with him.
"You always did get desperate for chocolate on Thursdays for some reason." he half-mutters, remembering, as I help him load his goods onto the conveyor belt.
"That's because on Thursdays, we always had the least amount of food back on…never mind." I trail off because no one likes to talk about our time on the island. Especially not him.
I help him load everything into the trunk of his ancient, half-dead car, unwilling to end the last few moments I have with him. But he only had so much junk food, and when he slammed the lid down, I scuffed my shoe against the asphalt, and let out a tiny, "Well, I guess this is goodbye."
I turn to walk away, but he grabs my arm. Has he changed his mind, then? "Look Mel, I don't have to leave till tomorrow. How about you and me take a drive? One last time?"
"Why not?"
He pulls out of the parking lot, and in those moments where he's utterly absorbed, I look at him. Really look at him. He's dyed his hair a deep brown, and in the dim light, you could mistake it for black. He's got an earring now, as well as a tattoo on his left shoulder. I can't see it right now, under his t-shirt, but I know it's there. But he can't change his blue eyes, or their ability to pierce me.
We make it out, and now that we're driving on an empty back road, he gropes with one hand for something on the backseat. With a jolt, I realize why it the silence is so deep. There's no radio playing. I shake my head to prevent the inappropriate giggles from coming out. I can't believe he still hasn't fixed the damn radio.
He finally grabs what he's been looking for, and drops it into my lap so he can drive properly. It's Jack Daniels. So the old friend of his has dropped by again. I give him a questioning look. He shrugs, eyes on the road again. "Hey, only if you want to. More for me if you don't." Bastard. He's knows that I'll drink it so he won't be drunk while driving. I take the bottle by the neck and take two satisfying gulps of liquid, enjoying the burn as it travels down my throat. Hey, better me than him.
I toss the paper bag out the window before cranking it back up and resting my head against the glass, the bottle resting between my legs. On impulse, I take another sip, just a tiny one this time, to burn away yesterday's loneliness. And another, for the day before's. And another for every day of these last miserable three months.
"Woah, slow down girl. I don't need weepy Mel around tonight." He takes the bottle and places it between his legs.
The empty silence fills the car again, leaving us both to our thoughts.
Alright, this was originally going to be a one shot, but now it's a three shot. I'll post the next section as quick as I can, but no promises. This is for Elven in Spirit, and I hope you like it sweetie! Serendipity545.