Last Night
By Formerly Known As
Author's Note: This piece nearly killed me. So did the first chapter for that matter...Oh well, hope you like it!
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His gloves. They seem to be all I can focus on. All I want to focus on. His
gloves, lying carelessly on the floor. He must have thrown them there last night. Before we got in bed. Before...just before. I slowly pick up the gloves. I hold them in my hands, concentrating on the gloves and only the gloves. Simple gloves. I don't want to think about last night and what we did. I don't want to think about this morning and what he did. The gloves are a lot like my own gloves. But so different from mine. Mine. Oh crap...I just realize I'm not wearing a damn thing. Not even my shoes. I had better do something about that.
After a few minutes of fussing around and searching, I walk out onto the porch. I still have his gloves in my own, now gloved hands. I sit there staring at them. He must have jumped into his shoes as he left the bed. I think about last night. Drunk. We were drunk. That was one reason he'd just thrown his gloves carelessly on the floor. Mine I'd placed on the small bedside table. We'd both placed our shoes elegantly right next to the bed. Side by side. Easy to get into if danger came a-knocking. Or if one of us decided to dash off the next morning.
Light slowly catches my eyes. I look up slowly. The sun. It's rising. Funny, I didn't even realize how dark out it was. Isn't that always the way of things, though? You never realize just how lonely you were until you find someone to be with. You never know how dark it is until there's light. You never realize how happy you were simply being in someone's company until they're gone.
The darkness fit my mood better. But the sun is slowly rising over the mountains. There's a few clouds out, just the thin long whispy kind that never cause rain or anything. Just sit around and hang out in the sky. They make for beautiful sunrises though. See they have this funny way of catching every shade, every color and sending them streaking all across their lengths. Every color. You never know how many colors there can be in a sunset till you've seen a good many days end. And you never know how many colors are in a sunrise till you've seen a good many days begin.
Last night should not have happened. I think we both know that. But I just can't stop thinking about it. It seemed so right last night. Of course lots of things seem right when you're totally drunk, but last night? I don't...It did happen. You know, I mean, it really DID happen. No denying that. So time to think about to today. The sun's painting a real doosy of a sunrise. It's beautiful. Like him.
Dammit! Why do I keep doing that?! It isn't right! I shouldn't be doing that!
But I just can't help but think about waking up this morning. I don't usually sleep well. I've seen a few too many horrible things. Witnessed a few too many gory events. I have a lot of nightmares. I don't usually wake up from them...but needless to say, I don't sleep real well either. But last night I did. First time in a long time I can remember sleeping like that. So quietly, so peacefully. And then, waking up. With him, a big comforting warmth right beside me. He was sitting up, looking down at me. I looked up at him, something I don't really like doing actually. But this time, it seemed okay.
Waking up, with...him...right beside me, me curled up against his side. I smiled at him, I was just feeling so contented. And...and when I'd smiled at him, a, a look of horror filled his eyes. And then he leaped over me, into his shoes and was gone before I could even get myself untangled from the sheets.
And I'd been left weeping on the stair way to my porch. Shouting his name into the darkened sky.
And now I'm sitting thinking about how pathetic I am. I could have given chase.
Could have caught up. But...well, he deserves better than that. If he thinks he needs to run away, pretend this isn't real, let him. He still has my respect, regardless of last night. Regardless of this morning. That thought brings a rye smile to my lips.
I guess, in this newborn morning light, I can understand his look of horror. I guess I'm feeling pretty horrified myself. And very terrified. Very, very terrified. He's not coming back, I bet he isn't. I shouldn't be so scared.
But what if he does come back?
What then?
And what if he doesn't come back?
Can I live with out him?
After last night, can I live with out him?
Silly question. Yes I can. I've lived with out a lot of things in my life. But the real question is, do I want to live with out him? Will it be worth it? Can I live knowing that we could have been...together? Do I even want us to be together? Well, I guess all my questions are pointless. It's up to him really. I can't make him return. I could chase after him, but that wouldn't bring him back to me. Nothing will. Whether he comes back or not is up to him.
And if he does come back...ah shit. Well, I guess we'll just have to see if he does come back first. After that, well...We'll see if he comes back first.
I glance next to me. At his gloves. Yeah, he'll probably come back. A hedgehog will never leave his gloves behind if he can't help it. So yeah, he'll be back.
I can't say why for sure but the thought simultaneously excites me and scares me shitless. It certainly does nothing to reassure me. Oh well. Wait for him to come back. Then we'll see what comes next. Till then, there's one hell of a pretty sun rise to watch.
HEY! Wait a minute, what happened to my sunrise!? Oh, guess it must have
finished rising. Oh well, I watched it, even if I wasn't paying much attention. Too much to think about I guess. Sometime during the sunrise I went and fetched a carton of orange juice. Not passed the expiration date. Well, thank you for the small things I guess. I open the container and take a swig, staring at the now gone sunrise. I set it down next to
me, next to the gloves.
I hear a faint noise. A faint rustle of grass. I look up. He's coming back. HE'S COMING BACK! Oh, wait, I already knew he'd come back. Now the twenty million dollar question is, what is he back for? This is stupid. He wouldn't just come back for his gloves. Right?
He walks forward, the sun is behind him. His face is in shadow, no pun intended. The sun light has turned his already dark form into a silhouette. His lithe, slender form approaches. He has something under his arm.
He walks up, till he's standing right in front of me. Okay, he's back. He came back. Now it's time to do something. Say something. Throw his gloves at him and tell him to get the hell off my property. Tell him to never leave me again. Stand up and kiss him and tell him that I love him. Ah, fuck. I can't be serious about that last one. Am I?
No, no I'm not. Well, maybe just a little serious.
Okay, stop stalling and say something. Say something to make him stay, to make him go. Say something grand, say something bold. Say something he would never expect.
"Hey." Or I could always say that. I should kick myself right now. Of all the things I could say, of all the things I could tell him, I say that.
"Hey," he answers. Okay, I guess there are worse things to start a conversation with. I can't think of any right now, but I'm sure there are a few. He stands there. It seems like eternity, he stands in front of me. Not leaving again. But not really...here. With me. Just...standing there.
Finally he begins to speak again. "I, uh, got some donuts. I thought you...might be hungry."
What, that's the great wisdom he has to share? He thinks I'm hungry. He think he can just get away with leaving like that by bringing food. He just thinks he can waltz over here and make everything all better...Wait, did he say donuts?
Now that the subject has been brought up, I am pretty hungry. I smile a little.
Just a little. He doesn't seem real happy. I think he's about to take off again, leave me behind again. But he doesn't leave. He sits down next to me. Slowly. He opens the donut box. There's a wide variety here. I pick out a jelly filled, my favorite. He grabs a maple bar. I never did get maple bars. They aren't all that good in my opinion.
We sit around and eat our donuts. He's not leaving. He's not leaving. He hasn't made any moves to stand up. Why am I not feeling any better about this? He's still here. I should be glad. But I can't shake this ridiculous notion that he just came back with the donuts as...I don't know, a favor or something. For the bed to sleep in. For a good time. For, I don't know, keeping his gloves safe. I just don't know. He's here now. But...is he gonna stay? Is he just here for breakfast? Nothing is making any sense.
I turn towards him. He looks up. Our eyes meet. Emerald to garnet or some poetic crap like that. Okay, no more stalling, just get it out. I clear my throat. "You, uh, left your gloves behind." I pick them up from where they lay next to the orange juice container.
He stares at them for a moment, as if contemplating some great question. I have the urge to shout 'THEY'RE JUST GLOVES!' But I remain silent. I want him not to take them. To...stick around...to stay. To not leave me again. Wait, I shouldn't be wanting this. I mean, I just shouldn't.
But I do.
He looks back at me. Our eyes meet again. He nods.
"Thank you," he says, pulling them from my grasp. I watch as he puts them on slowly, with that steely grace of his. He's not leaving. He has his gloves back and he's not leaving. Things are looking up. I think.
I chomp quietly on my donut. He has something he's thinking about. So do I, I suppose. Of course, after last night, there's an awful lot to think about.
He looks back at me. "Do you have any coffee?" he asks.
Coffee? He wants coffee? As in black chalk in liquid form? As in that gross brown mess that looks and smells a bit like watery mud? As in growth stunting liquor of hell? He drinks coffee?
"Sorry," I manage to say, "I don't do coffee."
He gives me a horrified look. I can't believe it. He drinks coffee. And he likes it. The grossest stuff around and HE likes it.
Grasping at straws I manage to grab the orange juice carton next to me. I hold it up. "I've got orange juice, though."
He sighs and it sounds so loud and over dramatic. Like I've committed some horrible sin or something and all he wants to do is save me. "Alright," he says, "give me a cup of orange juice then."
Oh yeah, cups. Man! We just had to do this right when I don't have any clean dishes left. I was planning on doing them. Honestly I was! It was just that, this whole thwart-Eggman's-latest-evil-plan thing came up and how was I to know I'd be sleeping with someone when all that was done?
Well, might as well come clean with him. "Uh, sorry, Shadow," I say, "no clean glasses."
He gives me a wry look. A faint smile flickers across his face like a fish darting across a pond. I just know he's going to say something demeaning to me. Oh, great, AM I BLUSHING?
I quickly hurry on. "I'm not really use to having people around." I say.
"Generally I just drink from the carton."
His faint flickering smile breaks into a fully fledged smile. Not a smirk, like I was afraid it would be. A real, honest smile.
"Alright then, Sonic," he says, taking the carton from my hand. "But later you're going to have to get a coffee maker."
What?! Coffee maker?! There's no way I'm gonna do that! I'm not going to have a machine in my house for making the grossest substance on earth! No way, no how! I begin to rant about it, but can't really seem to get my heart into, as he, still smiling, drinks from the carton, then places it between us. I'm still hungry so I grab another donut. A chocolate one. With sprinkles. He grabs another maple. Another one!
This guy just doesn't have decent taste in foods. He'd better like chilidogs or this will NEVER work between us. Not that it might not work out anyway. This could all fall apart tomorrow. Whatever this is.
Silence sits between us, interrupted only by the sound of us chewing donuts and the occasional swish of the orange juice carting being moved about. It's almost funny really. Anyone else and I would have been talking up a storm. I'm not much for silence, I prefer it to be filled with action. And if I can't have action, a conversation works just as well. But...for once I just sit here and eat my donut. In silence. His presence seems to discourage noise. Even when he speaks, it's in that deep, rich soft voice that you have to struggle to hear. A voice that commands the rest to be silent.
Not that I ever let him silence me. Maybe I was the only one, but I always talked over him. My noise battling with his silence. The two of us, always battling over something.
But now I'm silent. I let the silence sit between us. And it isn't a bad silence. It isn't a good silence either. It's just a silence, clinging over everything, haunting us with the conversation that isn't there. Well, it's haunting me, but like I said, I don't really like silence. But I'm scared, so scared. I don't want him to leave. I don't want to lose him ever again. I didn't know I had him...but now I don't want to lose him.
He came back. He didn't take off again. But he can take off, anytime he wants. Anytime at all. And if he runs, I still won't pursue him. I just...won't. This might not work. Maybe we'll wake up tomorrow and realize how completely idiotic all this has been. How it will never work. But that's for tomorrow.
I stare at the donut box, contemplating.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
"Huh?" I glance over at him. He's staring at me with those crimson eyes, waiting for me to respond.
"You know," I state slowly. "I never did get that phrase. I mean what does it mean? I've just never understood it."
He sighed. "It means, I want to know what you're thiinking. Like I'd pay you for your thoughts to know them. That's what it means."
"Yeah, but I mean it's a stupid thing. Lots of people say it, but no one's ever given me a penny-"
"It's just an expression," he interrupted, "and you are just stalling, hedgehog."
"Heh...maybe you're right."
"You know I am, Sonic. Now tell me what's on your mind. It's not like you to be so silent."
Funny, I was just sort of thinking that myself. "Well, if you really have to know, I'm debating whether to have another donut or not."
He laughed, a loud, flamboyant laugh. I nearly burst into tears at the sound. I'd never heard him laugh like that. He had chuckled and snickered and snorted at me. I'd even heard an actual laugh from him occasionally. But no matter what, his laughter always seemed so sad. Always quiet and subdued. This was the first true, first deep, first long loud laugh I'd heard out of him. It was the most beautiful thing of the day.
Still laughing, he said, "You were not thinking that! No one can look as serious as you and be thinking about DONUTS!"
"I was too! Food is a very important thing!"
He kept laughing.
"It is! If I eat too much it slows me down. If I don't eat enough, I run out of energy. I have to be very careful what I eat."
He chuckled into his hand, but managed an answer. "Yes, well, maybe if you ate healthier you wouldn't have to watch the amount as much."
"And what's that suppose to mean?!"
"I've seen the kind of things you eat and basically all of it is junk food. Cheese burgers, french fries, chilidogs-"
"I'll have you know chilidogs are a staple of society! And besides, who was it who bought the donuts?"
The conversation devolves quickly into an argument. Not a bad argument. A simple one. A playful one. For the two of us, it's more of a conversation than an argument. Everything's a challenge between us. Everything's a battle. But hey that keeps things interesting.
We both grab another donut with out thinking about it. I grab a custard filled donut. He grabs one that is covered in cinnamon and sugar. At least it's not another maple bar.
This probably won't work. I know that it probably won't. I mean, we're just too alike. We love the battle too much. We'll most likely battle ourselves out. But...we've got to try. I don't know about him, but sitting here on the porch...it feels right to me. It feels like this is where I'm meant to be. So this might not work. There's a very good chance it won't work. But until we know for sure it won't work, we'll take this day by day. Battle by battle. I don't know who's winning and who's losing. But we're going to try. Who knows? Maybe that way we'll both win.
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Disclaimer: Still don't own nobody but myself. I own this piece of writing. Steal and suffer demons of hell and/or my lawyers.
Author's Note: Well there you go! It's done it can't torture my sanity any longer. I think... Special mucho big massive gigantic huge super mondo thanks to DudeG. Thank you for saving my sanity and this story. With out you...I would already be locked up in a mental institution...And because I know you, if the people in the pretty white coats do catch up with me, I know a trick or two to help escape. Or at least make the psychologists crazy...Thanks again DudeG.
Thanks also go out to Vincent Valentine for a few good conversations, Stephen Zacharus for making me feel important, David Macintyre for being online basically always and being willing to share ideas and mythology with me, Gogehenks for reintroducing me to the Hampster Dance website (DO THE HAMPSTER DANCE!!)(*does the Hampster Dance*), and Sean Catlett for his willingness to also save my sanity. Did I forget anyone? Thanks you guys.
Thanks also to everyone who read this piece. Even if you didn't like it. Even bigger thanks to everyone who left a review...whether you liked it or not.
Okay, I'll shut up now.