Colors, pictures, places, times, days drifted before my minds eye. I was thinking.
Well, I call it thinking.
John calls it "Please leave a note so I can be sure you aren't in a coma time."
Anyway, I was deep in a trance, sifting through files in my crowded mind-house. It was slow going, but I knew the more I used it the easier it would be. I had many specific memories of the Trio, mainly consisting of the shape and size of their fist as it came towards my face. Unfortunately, as entertaining as they were to relive over and over, they were not helping me think of a way to catch them.
I shifted to another file, one of just times I've seen the Trio. Skipping class, in the halls, one rugby team that I was forced to see, walking away, chatting up Donovan, scaring undercla- Chatting up Donovan. Donovan, connected? How would that help? Obviously with one of the Trio, he's using her for sex and an ego boost. She isn't that good-looking though, she must've given them something. Information. I opened my file on Donovan. Oh, how could I be so stupid! Of course!
I snapped out of my trance and stood, "John!" I looked around the room, noticing the darkness out the window. It was late. I must've been thinking for hours. John, I soon saw, was slumped over the desk, asleep.
I walked over to him and pulled on his good shoulder, leading his mostly-asleep form to his bed and covering him up with a kiss on his forehead. What? I can be thoughtful if in the right mood. As I made my way through the general mess of our floor, I noticed John's new journal on the desk, open to a newly wrinkled page formerly known as John's pillow. He wrote in it every day, sometimes twice. I smiled and flicked off the light.
I had a plan, now I just had to prepare.
New Years Eve. The holiday always seemed over-hyped for what it was: a simple re-starting of the calendar. Normal people went out and drank their failures away from the whole year until they believed they were at a party. Everyone makes new-year resolutions they'll never keep while listening to that blasted song that gets stuck in my head each year. It was boring, dull, tedious, all of the above. But this year, I at least had someone to celebrate it with.
Don't get me wrong, I didn't curl up next to him and watch fireworks and sparklers on the telly, we did it our own way.
By starting the day off right.
By sleeping in.
(Until noon. Ish.)
I had traded places with John and fell asleep at the desk, resting my head on the open laptop. John woke me up with a gentle shoulder rub, knowing that I would be sore there from sleeping awkwardly.
"Tea?" he asked.
I nodded and he went about plugging in our handy little electric kettle and made us tea. It was the one form of sustenance that I didn't consciously avoid: No one makes tea like he does.
"So have you figured out a plan yet?"
"Of course," I replied. "I finished it last night, but I didn't wish to wake you."
"About that," he started, "didn't I fall asleep-"
"On the desk. Yes."
"And you-"
"Moved you to-"
"My bed?"
"Obviously. Who else would've?"
He smiled, "Thanks, you know, for... that."
I blushed into my teacup.
We sat side touching side on John's bed, leaning against the wall with our (perfect) cups of tea.
"So about this plan?"
"Ah, yes, you ought to be filled in on the details. Here's what's going to happen..."
"And that's why we can't start until after school begins. We have to wait for it to arrive, I had it special ordered online." Our conversation came to an end several hours later. We had sussed out all the details, all that he was aware of anyway, and were half way through dinner.
"Do you really think a simple tape recorder will do the trick?"
"Simple? John, please. The one I've ordered is spy-worthy. To call it simple is just an insult."
"Yes, of course Sherlock," he said, "and yet a simple one from the store 'round the corner would've done the same work at a much lower price."
I huffed and ignored him while he took the empty carryout boxes away, still smiling.
"Well, we've talked about Christmas traditions, what about your New Years ones?" John asked.
I huffed again.
John looked a bit sad.
"Nothing again? No fireworks or resolutions gone bad?"
"Of course not, John. It's all just folly. False hope and happiness for idiots who believe it that sort of thing."
He turned away. "Ah. The idiots of the world," he said. "I guess I'm an idiot then."
"John-" I tried.
"When I was little," he interjected, "and when everything hadn't gone to crap in my family yet, Harry and I would always try to see who could stay up longer on New Years Eve. I always lost, of course, but we had fun. Drank pints of root beer and sat on the roof watching far-off and near fireworks. If that's all folly then, I guess you don't want to kiss at midnight either?"
"John!" I stopped his unconscious pacing with a hug and tried to make it right. "John, you could never be an idiot."
It was his turn to huff. "Compared to you, anyone is."
"I'll take that as a compliment," I said and was rewarded with a slight laugh. "But you, John, you are different. You are my conductor of light, my muse, my energy and happiness. I could never call you an idiot."
His frown turned into a smile and I knew I had made up. That was a fight. My first real relationship fight. Success.
He stood up straighter and kissed me full on the lips. I pushed back and his lips parted under mine. Our eyes closed and soon his tongue slipped past his lips and I welcomed it. The kiss deepened and our tongues battled for dominance as I pulled him closer. John pushed his hand through my curls and I slipped mine beneath his jumper, stroking the soft, warm skin beneath. Heat built up around us until we were suffocating but we didn't care, we let it consume us as we clung to each other, lost in the moment.
The moment, minutes or hours later, did in fact end and we ended up on his bed, pulling up a movie on Netflix. Some sort of comedy-romance with an obvious plot and only slightly surprising hi-jinks. I didn't pay too much attention to it; instead I watched John's reactions to the movie. A much more interesting use of my time.
While the credits rolled, I noticed the time. 11:42 P.M. Wonderful.
John shut off the laptop and rested against the bed with a happy sigh, meaning that the movie had ended happily. I quickly used the loo and when I returned, John was resting his eyes in the half-darkness. The clear night allowed the moon to brighten up the outside world, and a few streaks of moonbeam managed their way through our window and onto John's face, throwing it into high relief. On most, this would look odd or even disfiguring. On John, it made him look angelic, his hair almost white and his smile oh-so-soft.
Without much thinking, and noting the time again, I found my violin half under my bed and my bow hanging from a nail on the wall.
Starting quietly as not to startle John, I coaxed the notes of Auld Lang Syne from my violin, watching as John opened his eyes and watched me in surprise.
The notes were easy enough to remember, allowing most of my attention to divert to John. He was beaming at me and we made eye contact. I shivered, feeling pure love radiating from him. Feeling. Love. Love. I loved him.
I smiled back, overjoyed from this surge of light coursing through my body.
I finished the song as the New Year came surging in with a quiet promise.
John stood up and we kissed.
At that moment, I made my first ever New Years resolution.
Never lose John.