Aether’s Apartment
Atlanta, GA
United States of America
April 2016
What had followed that morning was nothing
short of tense and awkward.
She wasn’t even sure if what had transpired
the previous night even happened; if it was actually something she had dreamed
of the entire time. But eventually Aether woke up and felt the soreness in her
legs as well as the sensitivity in her hips and she thought oh fuck, it really did happen. It really
happened.
(That had led to her glancing at the other
side of the bed and seeing no one there. In a spur of emotion, she ended up
breaking down only to have the person she had spent the night with come into
the room with a tray of breakfast. Whoops.)
So now there she was, picking at the eggs
with her fork and trying to comprehend what the situation was at the moment.
Her eyes flicked upwards and she saw him sitting by her table, using his own
laptop and idly humming as if him leaving her behind months ago hadn’t actually
happened. He acted like things were okay, normal and dandy between them,
casually making breakfast in bed and working on business deals as if it was
nothing.
The messy-haired lady swallowed uneasily
and forked some of the scrambled egg into her mouth. It tasted good (his
cooking was always good), but their current situation watered the delight of
having him cook for her. At that moment, she wasn’t sure if she’d have
preferred an early-morning McDonalds run just so that she could spare them both
the awkwardness.
It
feels like a fucked up one night stand, she
realized. The thought made her almost choke on her food; she caught him shoot a
worried glance as she downed the orange juice in haste. Oh God, that’s why it feels awkward and tense.
But
this isn’t a one night stand ala Peters, the more
rational side of her attempted to explain. This
is…this is Mathieu. This is your boyfriend.
Boyfriend.
She restrained herself from groaning
tiredly. Even the thought of Mathieu as her boyfriend felt strange and foreign.
Hell, even the morning after their very first night together was less awkward
than that.
(For one thing, she woke up in his arms.
And he was actually there. And making breakfast was a joined effort. Go
figure.)
“You’re running out of groceries,” Mathieu
spoke suddenly. She jerked her head up and looked at him, the male wearing only
his boxer shorts and a white shirt he had most likely dug out of their shared
closet. “But I managed. I can go later and do the shopping if you’re busy,” he
offered as if offering to make her coffee or heat a bowl of pasta. Completely
domestic considering the circumstances.
She sat there, blinking for a few seconds and gaping. Aether felt like
she had lost her voice. In response, he gave a small smile as if prompting for
her to answer.
And it was enough. She looked away,
pretending to decide whether to tackle the bacon or the pancakes next. “Sure.
I’ll…I’ll make a list.” Mathieu didn’t say anything. When she glanced up, he
was back facing his laptop and humming again under his breath.
It felt domestic.
(And how ironic was it – that the one who
hadn’t been home for months was the
one who was being domestic. Aether didn’t know anymore.)
* *
* * *
In the shower, she tried not to think of
the fact that Mathieu was merely a room away from her in all her vulnerability.
The thought made her want to cover up despite the fact that he had seen her,
multiple times, completely bare.
Him being back was a foreign concept she
struggled to understand. Hell – not even foreign. It was like her being in the
ocean and struggling to swim even though she had known beforehand how to swim; it
was just a long time since she had waded deep into the waters.
I
don’t know how to deal with this.
A gentle knock.
“Aether? You…sort of left your clothes back
in the bedroom.” She didn’t even bother to groan at that point. It felt like
the universe was conspiring against her at that point. “Should I bring them
in?”
“I – sure.”
The door opened and she caught a blur from
inside the shower resting the clothes on the bathroom’s marble counter next to
the sink. Aether wondered if Mathieu would dare and hang around more, but to
her relief (and slight disappointment), he merely left and closed the door
quietly when he did.
She felt conflicted. Aether merely stood
there in the shower before burying her face into her hands and exhaling.
* * * * *
Stepping into the living room, clothed up
and ready to move, she was surprised to see Mathieu standing there decked in
casual gear as well instead of staying down and setting up the game console
like he usually would.
“Are – are you going somewhere?” the
red-haired man looked at the keys in his hand and she realized what exactly he
wanted to do. And for once, he looked a little sheepish, maybe even shy.
“Maybe I could drive you? To HQ? I’m going
to get the groceries after,” he explained, fiddling with the keys a bit
nervously. “If you want to. I mean…Tadashi still drives you to work, right?”
She presses her lips together.
“Let me get my bag first,” she tells him.
A hopeful look lights up his blue eyes, and
she feels her heart flutter in a way she hasn’t felt for some time. Mouth
drying, she goes to the bedroom and hastily collects her things; swings her bag
over her shoulder and holds her laptop bag in her arms. When she comes back
out, he’s still waiting patiently.
“Ready?” he takes the laptop bag into his
own arms and she nods, trying to ignore the fluttering and the urge to reach
out and touch his face. He’s real, idiot.
He’s right there.
“Yeah,” Aether’s thankful that her voice
doesn’t crack, “I’m ready.”
* *
* * *
“What do you need from the grocery?”
“The usual.” The reply falls from her mouth
easily. Based on the way he tenses, however, Aether immediately suspects that
he shares the question: what’s even usual
at this point? “A general restock would be okay.”
He nods and continues driving. After a few
beats, he asks: “Do you want some more ice cream? I noticed that our pint of
Chunky Monkey was running out when I moved it aside.”
Aether nods. Mathieu gives her that
half-smile and keeps driving.
She reaches out to turn on the radio,
turning up the volume in hopes that the current (and overplayed) pop song would
distract her from the loud, erratic beating of her own heart.
Slowly,
she reminds herself. They stop at a traffic light,
having just turned red. You have to do
this slowly.
Mathieu’s arm stays on the armrest. Keeping
her eyes trained front, she slowly moves her own hand and rests it on top of
his own.
She hears him suck in a small breath. Still
moving slowly, she intertwines their fingers and gives a small squeeze. Aether
refuses to look at him, though Mathieu could already see that she was turning
pink in the cheeks. Don’t look. Stay
calm.
He squeezes back and she nearly gives a
relieved noise.
Before the light switches back to green, he
lets go of her hand. Aether tries to ignore the disappointed flutter in her
stomach and hesitantly pulls her own hand away from the rest as well. Before
she’s able to fly back into her thoughts, Mathieu turns his head and presses a
kiss on her cheek.
She’s rendered speechless.
The light turns green, and he shifts the
gear to drive.
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