1
“I don’t think I’m going to fly with you, Jonny,” his back is to me, clothed in the thin white t-shirt he usually wears to sleep. I know exactly how it smells and I know exactly that it would be hard to go to sleep without burying my face in his scent.
“It’s only for a couple of weeks…” I know that it’s a lousy argument, but it buys me time.
“Yeah, but still, 15 hours in the air…and I won’t be any help to you there.”
“Sure you will,” I come up behind him and wrap my arms around his chest and his tummy, “You could guard the hotel room while I am away.”
“Yes, and I would woof like a dog whenever I’d hear somebody coming,” he chuckles and I bury my nose in his shaggy hair, tightening my grip.
“Remember when we went to that park there? And lay in the grass? And stared at the bay? And slept until the late afternoon?” I rock him gently with me, whispering it in his ear.
“Mmmmmhm,” he closes his eyes, a dreamy smile playing on his lips.
“Don’t you want to go there again? Renew the memories?”
“Pffft, Jonny, that was a month ago,” he laughs at me and tugs on my hands, indicating that my plan is crushed. Now he is wiggling out of my embrace and I have nothing to do but sigh and let him go.
2
Bastard.
The buzz is putting me to sleep and I lean to my left – a silly habit of having him sitting next to me, for when I realize that his shoulder isn’t there I slip and hit my head on the armrest. A passing by flight attendant flicks her eyes to me, but then passes by as if she didn’t notice. Well, that’s the good point of not having Thom at this moment – he’d be gloating and making sure everybody saw me.
I haven’t slept normally in a while – most of the times I woke up and wondered where Thom was until it hit me that he was on another continent at the moment. I realized that it was probably the first time in 5 years since we were sleeping separately and it was a freaky thing, since I’d still wake up and murmur something close to “I love you” or “Come here” (we were both accustomed to waking up and saying something like that out of habit) and fall back in the restless sleep without realizing that I was saying it to the air.
It was surprising, but the worst thing was that I couldn’t quite find a place for my hands. When we were walking I would place them on his waist, and now, alone, I had to stuff them in my pockets or just leave them hanging by my sides awkwardly. Sitting down, I found myself reaching to put my arm around his shoulders only to paw at the air and pretend that I was just checking the fabric of the couch so as not to look so stupid. Lying down, I placed a hand awkwardly on my stomach and the other on the bed, for the thousandth time thinking that he was such a bastard.
3
My flight was held back for four hours and now I’m looking out in the dark from the cab window. It is well past midnight and he is probably curled up in the bed right now, and I debate with myself if I should wake him or leave him rest until the morning.
When I arrive, I gaze briefly at the house and realize that all lights are gone. It’s peaceful here, no houses around at the shouting distance, ours is basically in the middle of nowhere. It’s plain and white and I’m mesmerized by the way it stands still while the wind is playing with the grass quietly, making the whole meadow alive.
There’s something wrong when I go in. The house smells differently and I poke my head in the living room to see the table set up perfectly. A few empty bottles are on the floor and I see something that looks like my brother’s leg stretching out from behind the sofa. Ed is whizzing peacefully while trying to get his body fit into an armchair and Phil looks quite comfortable on the floor. I chuckle and tiptoe to the stairs only to see that something is blocking my way.
I narrow my eyes and wait for them to adjust to the dark when I realize that it is Thom who is sitting on the chair, slouched, his head low. For a brief moment I wonder why he is here, but then I realize that his arms and legs and body are tied to the chair and that it is impossible for him to move. Where is a small piece of white paper on his lap and I pick it up without waking him.
To Jonny from loving brother and friends.
I smile and let my hand graze his hair a little. Something brushes against my fingers and I take it in my hand, realizing that it is a small piece of ribbon. There are teeth marks on it. I look on the floor and see the rest of it – apparently it took Thom a great effort to take it off his head.
My two fingers trace his cheek, and instead of his usual two-day stubble there is smooth skin. Interesting. I lower myself to my knees and realize that he is wearing perfume and that a couple of buttons on his tight shirt are popped open, letting me see the fair skin of his chest. His shoes are polished impeccably and there is no a tiny wrinkle on his trousers. He is wrapped professionally.
I raise my head and press my lips against his, kissing him with a demand, pulling him to our world, out of his own.
He whispers “I love you” and he whispers “Come here”, still sleeping, and out of habit.
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