but i know that all i want is you this christmas; | dusk & adrian.
The fresh smell of winter’s breeze played with Dusk’s hair for a moment before she walked over to the window and pulled it shut. A little giggle escaped to dance around with the innocent laughter of the kids running around in the snow outside. It’s Christmas, she thought to herself with eyes bewildered with childish joy and excitement. See, Boulder’s already beautiful, but with the simplicity of the white carapace wrapping up the landscape came irresistible allurement; she was mesmerized. And God, the little Da Vinci would guarantee you that there was nothing more beautiful than the fascinating delicacy of snow coated home.
Home.
It’s funny, how she had almost forgot that that word was in her dictionary yet somehow it managed to slip right out the second she’s granted the sight of her favourite season. But still, something was—missing. It still didn’t feel as comfortable as home, wherever that was, it lacked the nonchalant sensation that wrapped her up with warmth, regardless of the freezing atmosphere outside. She didn’t feel safe, she only felt alone; isolated.
The reason why she was lacking safety was because it didn’t matter where she was on the map, for home was always in the warmth of his hug, the shelter provided by his reassuring smile. Home is where the heart is, and Adrian Thompson was her home.
Now, she knew that he had his vulnerabilities, but for some reason whenever she's blessed with his presence, he always looked invincible in her eyes. He was just—reckless and made of glass, but resembled the essence of eternity. That’s why she felt incomplete the second she left his side. It wasn’t because she wasn’t by her father, or mother, or bother—it was just because he no longer was there to hold her close and whisper in her ear some cheesy joke, it was because the vibration of his laugh was no longer there to beat against her skin as he tackles her in a tickling embrace. Whenever he was on tour, she perfected the art of being at an all time low.
Adrian Thompson was her anchor.
And now, even though he’s a few minutes away by car, he was impossible to reach. Goddamn her stubbornness, Goddamn her inability to mouth filter her words once raging thunder strikes her brain cells. This was her first Christmas alone—even Caroline and Alex, her best friends, where busy with plans. She took a deep breath as the wrenching heaviness blew in her heart; gone.
Should I call him?
Oh, but it wasn’t a matter of should or shouldn’t; it was a matter of would and wouldn’t, could and couldn’t.
She wonders whether the thought of her crosses his mind when he’s alone, what he would’ve done if he had the ability to go back in time. Would he have done something different? Would he have stopped the fight midsentence and pulled her in for a kiss? Maybe he had just moved on to hating her, maybe he just doesn’t want to say a hello and risk another goodbye; she’s a coward, and a coward does nothing but decamp.
She made quite a mess, maybe its better off this way.
But she dreams about him every night, asking him if he wanted to try again with her—it takes everything in her to wake up and not call him; not because she’s stubborn, not because she doesn’t want to apologize; but because she thinks he deserves better than her in his life. He’s going to leave Colorado anyway, right? He’s going to go back to the city and sing and drown in this bubble of oblivion that fame creates for a second or two. She can’t pull him back from something he loves; she can’t risk staining his future just for the shear selfishness of love.