That Summer: TwentyMature

Trinity

June came and went, faded into a blur of sameness. The first week of July brought me to Crimson's door, a faint smile upon my lips, a red ribbon tying back my black hair. The sun was hanging low in the sky, streaking the blue with radiant pinks and oranges and reds.

When Crimson didnt come to the door, I took the liberties of letting myself in. It wasnt as though his grandparents were ever home anyway. I left my black heels in the foyer and started on up the stairs.

He was there, all beautifully perched on the edge of his bed, eyes focused on the window. The city beyond. Or maybe something else entirely. These days it was hard to tell. Hard to tell when his veins were streaked with cocaine, and when he'd just been up one too many days straight.

"Hey," I greeted uncertainly, crossing the room to stand before him. When still he paid me no mind, I lowered myself to kneel before him. My hands rested lightly on his legs. "What's on your mind, baby?"

At last Crimson looked at me. I had never seen such raw emotion splayed across his perfect face, never heard such shattered pain in his softly spoken words."It's three years today, Trinity. Three years they've been gone, and a whole lifetime they wont be coming back."

I never knew what to say in moments like this. I'd never had a tragedy in my life. My parents had always let me have the run of the town, leaving me to my own devices. I didnt understand the disease of apathy. So I did all I could think of, which was to place my head in his lap and remind him that I was there. That I'd always be there.

"I'm sorry, Trinity." Crimson's hands were in my hair now, toying with the loose strands and the ribbon holding the rest of it in place. "It's not fair to you when I get like this."

I looked up at him then, one cheek still pressed against his thigh, and smiled. It was wistful, but a smile nonetheless. Crimson took my hand in his own and gave it a tight squeeze.

"I love you," he told me gently.

"And I love you," I whispered back.

Crimson's lips twisted up then, a real flicker of life crossing over his usually somber face. He reached out to pull me to him; I collided with his chest and we fell back into the oversized bed. I couldnt help but laugh. When Crimson was near, I felt so free.

It wasnt long until he was kissing me gently, trailing his lips across my jawbone and down my neck. That was the thing about Crimson and I. Everyone saw us as these two really shattered creatures that could do nothing but harm each other. Like at any moment we'd be running and screaming towards drugs and vodka and razor blades. No one ever witnessed the side of him that was just contented to feel my body beside his, to hold me and listen to my heart beating in time with his own. Everyone knew him as this terrible boy with a terrible past. I only knew him as the only boy to show me real, raw love.

"Trevor's having a party tomorrow," Crimson murmured later, when I was tangled up in his arms and his sheets and the magic in the air. "Wanna go?"

No. But that would lead to questions, and those led to answers. Answers I was running from. Answers I was hiding very, very carefully. So I nodded. "Of course," I replied. "A party might do us good."

Crimson nodded, but his eyes were drifting shut, face settling as sleep overtook him. I closed my eyes and hoped for the same, but my mind was going in a million directions. I had a sinking feeling deep within, telling me that things were about to get so much harder.

The End

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