Page 5 of When We Are Old

“Tell me about where you're from.” She seemed surprised at her words and smiled, a small upturn of her lips.

I knew right then though that I never wanted her to know about my home and all the things I’d left behind. On the red bus, in South West London I was someone else.

Someone new.

Unexpected Journeys

Ronnie

The door closed with a snapped click as I fell backwards against its hard surface. Matthew’s thumbs pushed at my cheeks, swiping at the sticky hot trail.

My chest laboured up and down, painful breaths grasping air—I had just run almost the length of Scotland and back looking for him on this damn train.

I’d found him.

Matthew was mine.

His mouth pulled a kiss from deep within me, like he dove into a well and wouldn’t stop searching until I stopped my blubbering and gave him what he needed. His tongue searched mine, hot and resolute, asking questions of me that I wanted to give all the answers to for the rest of my life.

Answer him I did. With my fingers tangled in his hair, my nose pressed against his skin, my body shuddering with what could only have been a combination of shock, elation, and exercise.

Like two balloons filled with helium, I grasped onto the sensations, soaring into the sky with them.

This was happening.

Things had been said and I didn’t know if I could exist in a world where they were unsaid.

Before us the future stretched into an unknown.

Matthew had told me he loved me. That he would search for me until there was no place left to look. Now that I knew the truth between us, so many mistakes and things said wrong, I knew I’d want him to search for me, because I wouldn’t stop seeking him either. I never had.

Everything between us had been reset. A downpour of rain on a hot day, we’d washed the dust of our past away.

“Seriously, Ronnie.” He broke his kiss and I almost wailed in despair. He should give warning when taking part in dangerous activities such as removing his lips from mine. I wanted them forever. Wanted to walk down the street, lip to lip. Walk into the office and hang my coat on its peg, also lip locked.

Never could life exist without a Matthew kiss.

“You have to stop crying,” his low Scottish rumble made my bones shake.

“These are good tears.” Speaking made saltwater flush down my face with the torrential speed of a waterfall under a deluge of rain.

“Maybe we should make a promise to make crying a thing of the past?” His long fingers smoothed at my hair that had stuck in knotted strands against my wet cheeks. Not just from the tears, but from my long run up the train carriage to find him.

The sleeper train to Edinburgh had far too many carriages.

“I’m so glad I found you.” I shivered as I spoke, every word I muttered chiselled away at my loose grip on my emotions.

“I’ve never not been with you.” His thumbs brushed again, the warmth of the rough skin distracting me from my heaving sobs.

I met his heaven and slate gaze. “I get that now.”

His smile turned me inside out and I whimpered a giggle.

“What happens now?” My cheek fit against his chest, his heartbeat singing its beautiful song against my ear. “I’m on a train to Scotland again.” I peeked around his shoulder at the whizzing countryside as the sleeper stole out of London.

“You could get off at Crewe?”

Oh.