Page 47 of Sorry, We're Closed

I eye him all over as he walks away, carrying the rubbish bags out the back, and the rubbish going out is the last thing I do before closing for the evening.

I bring myself around the counter and wait. I wait for the conversation I don't want to have; I wait even when I know that this goodbye is going to be more difficult than the first. I wait knowing that truly, deep within my core, I don't want to have a goodbye, but we have to.

Avory's boot buckles clink with every step he takes, and I silently beg that the clinking stops, because each clink closer means this is real, and this is happening. Avory stands in front of me, my eyes darting between his shoulders and arms and any part of him that isn't his face,

“If you tell me to leave right now, I will. I'll walk right out of that door, and I'll never come back here.”

With tears welling up, my chest tightening and my breath catching in my throat, I somehow speak. I cough up the words because I know that it is what needs to happen. I need my life back where Avory Bright doesn't exist.

“Please leave.”

“No.”

My eyes instinctively meet his in pure disbelief at his answer, but it all quickly dissipates as I gaze at every detail I have ever missed. A smirk plasters his face and a small dimple that I have never noticed before has formed under his cheek. He's so handsome and he knows it which infuriates me.

I gulp down every fear that festers, and my neck burns with anger because he doesn't realise the danger he's putting us in by being here. The burning on my neck moves inward to my throat as I try to speak, shout even, yet Avory's hand cups over my mouth, causing my breathing to quicken against his soft, warm palm. His free hand brushes the curls out of my face while I stare up at the darkly dressed figure who suddenly towers over me.

“Listen to me when I say this: I'm. Not. Leaving. You.”

One thing I notice about Avory: no matter where you are, his eyes will always be the brightest thing in the room. Not just his eyes, no – his entire being. I can never comprehend how one human being can take this unimaginable situation and somehow make it into something good. Something amazing.

My lips curl up under his palm, and a relieving laughter frees from my chest, and I can't explain it. I can't even count how many times I've cried in the last twenty-four hours, but these tears trickling down my cheeks and onto Avory's thumb as he wipes them away, actually release the emotions that have been boiling this whole time. The fear, upset, anger, that has been plaguing my insides is finally being released into Avory Bright's hand as he sees me at my rawest and most vulnerable self. His hand slowly peels away from my mouth and moves down my neck, my shoulder, my arm and finally intertwines with my hand.

“Avory, I can't do this, but all I want to do isthis. I can’t like boys, men. I cannot like you, but guess what? I do, I like you so fucking much that I can't stop thinking about you but every time I think of you, I am riddled with guilt and fear over what I am doing. Me, doing this, is the reason my father left. It is the reason my mother resents my every movement and word that comes out of my mouth, and I can't lose her, too. I can't lose both of my parents because of what I have become.”

Silence looms between us as Avory's free hand seeks mine. His head falls back as he bites his lip, and I can tell he’s thinking. Something is brewing in his mind, and he can't decide on whether to let it out or not.

“Avory, you're safe to speak here, but only if you want to.”

He rolls his head forward and faces me, his soft smile growing bigger. He exhales before a gentle voice leaves his lips, a voice which lacks Avory's usual suave.

“Sawyer, you didn't lose your parents. Your parents lostyou, abandonedyou. They made that decision to walk away and abandon you in a world that is cruel, and a world where you could've been happy.”

Avory's eyes tear up, but he once again hangs his head back and stops them from trickling down. I wish I had that ability.

“Sawyer, I'm with my Uncle Marcus because I lost my parents. My mother was ripped from our family when I was only two years old, and my father took a direct downhill spiral after her passing. He tried everything he could to look after me, but addiction was his only way of coping and Marcus had to step in and take me away from it all. He wasn't going to watch his nephew survive on school meals and live in a house with no electric.”

My mouth dries from being open for so long. I struggle to comprehend how Avory's story isn't as perfect as everything that it has been painted to be between them. I go to speak but nothing comes out, instead Avory continues.

“My point is, Sawyer, I didn't choose to lose my parents, but they didn't choose to lose me, either. Your parentschoseto lose you though, and that is the dumbest decision they ever made. I am not going to make the same mistake they did.”

Avory's eyes, still wet around his lids and lashes, lock with mine as he releases my hands, and his calloused fingertips wrap around my waist. He pulls me close until my chest presses against his and my arms naturally wrap around his neck, my hands moving through his thick waves. Everything about this feels right, and alongside Avory's words swirling around my mind like a whirlpool, I can't lie to myself anymore. I want this, I want him, I want Avory Bright.

Avory tilts his head slightly as he lightly presses his lips against mine, a low hum tickling between our lips. He pulls away, our noses still touching and his hot breath replicating the heat I have boiling within. I need Avory to know that I am in this, I am here for us and that I want to make us work. We can figure outhowanother time.

Twenty-Two

Avory

Today went so much better than planned. If I'm completely honest, I hadn't planned any further than knocking on the back door of Sombre's Café in the hopes that no one would see me with Sawyer, because I’m not going to further risk his safety. However, I’m not willing to lose Sawyer. Not yet. I especially hadn't planned, however, to tell Sawyer about my parents and the reason why I am with Marcus. Yet somehow, with every difficult word that trickled out of my mouth, a weight lifted from my chest and breathing had never felt so easy. A weight that I didn't realise I had, that had been compacting myself away from others because I have never felt freer in front of someone until now.

Sawyer shows me the walls I didn't realise I have, and I would happily hand him the sledgehammer to rip them down over and over.

Now, Sawyer's eyes fly between my eyes and mouth as our noses brush, our lips having only pulled apart moments ago. His breath tickles the sparse and thin hairs which slowly grow above my upper lip. I make a mental note to shave those later.

“Avory?”

I nod to Sawyer as he smooths one of his hands from my hair to the side of my neck, his thumb tracing circles against my jawline. He pulls me ever so slightly until his lips press against mine again, lightly and familiar at first until a pressure I have never felt from him causes my feet to catch myself from tumbling us both to the floor.

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