Favorite record
It's four in the morning and I can't sleep, again. The walls are tinged blue from the light coming from the television. I'm watching an infomercial about a knife with holes in it, which supposedly makes it easier to cut tomatoes. I think about the last time I tried to cut a tomato, and how it squished all over the cutting board in the process. Maybe this knife will help me cut tomatoes better. I shake my head. That's stupid, 19.95 for a knife with holes. I can do fine cutting a tomato with a regular knife. I got a couple of good slices out of it last time.
I look at the phone in dazed, 4AM-induced sleep-thought. Suddenly, it's screen lights up. Someone's calling me. At four in the morning?
I blink a couple times, thinking I must be hallucinating from lack of sleep. But then it starts ringing. The noise is shrill in the relatively quiet room, with only the soft sound of the infomercial on the television. I check the Caller ID. It's none other than Eren Jeager. My ex. I want to send it to voice mail, but because it's Eren, I answer it anyway. I would always answer it for him.
I answer the phone groggily. "Hello?"
His voice comes through the line, breathing life into my tired veins. "Hey. It's me."
"Hey. It's four in the morning, you know." I say.
"Yeah, I know. I figured you'd be up."
"Well, you know me, ha-ha. Being an insomniac and all." I laugh dryly.
"How are you doing?" He asks, changing the topic.
I think of how I don't sleep anymore, and how I did, for once, when I was in his arms. How when we were together, he always told me I wasn't affectionate enough for him. How I made him feel like shit. Which in turn, made me feel like shit. At least now, I feel slightly less shitty with him not shitting all over my feelings.
"Somewhat not shitty," I answer honestly, "what about you?"
"Pretty shitty," he admits, a small tinkling laugh following, "that's kind of why I called you. I was hoping we could just... talk."
"Get your mind off of things?" I supplied.
"Yeah," He answered breathlessly.
"Well, I'm watching an infomercial right now about a knife with holes in it."
"A knife with holes in it?"
"Yeah, it's supposed to make it easier to cut tomatoes and shit. 'Cus of the holes."
"Tomatoes are hard to cut." Eren admits.
"Yeah, they're a bitch."
Silence followed my statement like a ghost, unwilling to let go. It continued to suffocate us until I say the first thing that comes to mind to break it.
"Hey Eren, do you remember that time we drove all night in my pickup truck?"
"How could I not?"
"And we stopped, and we danced in the truck bed as we watched the sun rise?"
"That was a great night," Eren says, nostalgia lacing the night air.
"Do you want to go for a ride?"
"Do you really think that's a good idea?" I can almost see his face in front of me. It's his are-you-fucking-kidding-me face.
"Well, no. But it's four in the morning. You're feeling shitty. I'm feeling tired. Let's both feel a little less shitty and listen to some old records in my truck in some shitty field in the middle of this shitty goddamn state."
"Okay."
"What?"
"Okay. Be outside my house in fifteen."
"Okay."
I hang up the phone and get dressed faster than I ever have before, pulling on a hoodie over my sleeveless tank and slip on some jeans. I grab a random assortment of records, my portable record player, and a couple of old blankets, because it's cold outside.
I throw the blankets in the back of the pickup and put the record player and the records on the passenger seat, throwing the truck into gear and putting off to Eren's house at four in the goddamn morning.
Idaho gets cold at four in the morning. Fucking potato land.
"Oi, Eren. It's fucking freezing. Haul ass so I can shut the door."
"Sorry, sorry," He says, slamming the door of the cab shut with a thud. He's wearing flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt with a denim jacket.
"Is that really all you're wearing?" I shoot him a dirty look. Of course it's all he's wearing.
I look down at his feet and see he's wearing fucking slippers.
"You came faster than I thought," He looks down at his lap a little sheepishly, but there's a silly grin on his face as well.
I throw a blanket at him that was sitting between us as I set the truck off towards the middle of nowhere.
Eventually we make it to a farm that's been abandoned, hundreds of acres going unused. There's weeds growing up to our knees and I kick my truck into four wheel drive to get over the clumpy dirt, frozen solid by the chill. When I'm satisfied with our placement on a relatively flat piece of land, I park. Eren turns to look at me and I motion towards the blankets and pillows piled up between us in the cab. He grabs them all in a big pile and unceremoniously dumps them in the back of the truck, arranging them for comfort. I set up the record player and motion for him to choose one.
I don't know why I even grabbed that record, but of course he takes it and sets it on the turntable. I get underneath the multitude of blankets, a nice sandwich of fleece, wool, fleece, for maximum warmth and minimum itch. I nod in appreciation at him, snuggling deeper underneath it. The pickup bed is cold beneath me, but I can feel Eren's body heat as he settles in next to me, but still several inches away.
I roll my eyes at him. "Come here, you brat. It's cold."
I reach out my arm towards him, and he scoots over until he's pressed up against my side. I let my arm rest on his shoulders and pull him closer to me, resting my head on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," Eren says suddenly, startling me. I had gotten comfortable. If he hadn't said anything, I probably would have just fallen asleep here.
"I'm sorry, too." I say quietly.
"I asked too much of you."
"I didn't give you enough,"
"It wasn't a good time for me. I needed someone to inflate my ego. I was broken."
"I know."
My heart breaks as I say those two words. I don't want to talk with him about this. I don't want to think about seeing him broken and defeated, trying to smile when he's with me. I can't fix a broken heart.
"I'm sorry I expected you to fix me." Eren looks down at his lap, his hands playing with the frayed ends of the blankets.
"You just wanted more and more, and I couldn't give that to you. I only have so much to give."
"Levi..." Eren looks up, into my eyes. He looks so sad – a reflection of myself, lately, in all honesty.
"I know I can't be everything you want," I say, taking his chin and cupping it with my free hand. "But I can be me, and maybe that can be enough."
Our mouths meet and I feel the coolness of his lips, and then the heat of his tongue.
"I'm ready now, Levi. You are everything I want."
That night, I missed the sunrise. Considering what I was busy with, though, I can't say I mind.