Only to Feel This Fully [Completed]

Ch. 15: Levitating

The house and all of its inhabitants were still asleep when I woke up the next morning. This was unsurprising, as it was still early for a Saturday. An abrupt knee to my side from a sleeping Theo woke me with a start. His body was no longer over top of mine. He was on his side, close to my right, with his limbs still draped around mine. I tried to fall back asleep for a long while, but gave up after a few restless minutes and decided to go downstairs for a glass of water.

I carefully extracted myself from Theo's nocturnal grip and put on a shirt, wanting to be at least semi-respectable in Theo's parents' house. I made my way down the house's staircase with all the stealth I could muster, padding across the hardwood floor into the kitchen area. I searched the cabinets for a bit until I found the one that held the cups and took a larger one to fill up with water.

As the water neared the rim, I felt arms wrap around my waist, startling me enough to almost drop the glass. I recovered in time but did spill some water. I relaxed into the hug and allowed Theo to nuzzle at my neck as I satisfied my thirst.

"I missed you," Theo admitted, with a shocking irony. I don't think I would've been so forthright in a reversed scenario, but I smiled and reassured him, "me too."

"I woke up and you weren't there and I thought..."

I set my glass down and turned my body around within his arm so that I could look into his eyes and brought my hands up to cup his face. "I was just getting some water, okay? I'm right here. There's no place I'd rather be." I hugged him and we whispered what could only be described as sweet nothings to each other until I noticed his mother out of the corner of my eye and reflexively broke contact with her son.

She was just standing there, observing, from the door frame that led out into the foyer. She could have arrived seconds before I'd noticed her or been there since Theo came down. I couldn't know for sure.

"Don't mind me, boys. I was just about to put on some coffee. Theo likes those Starbucks drinks and will barely tolerate my attempts at a frappuccino. Charlie, would you like me to make one for you as well?"

"No, but thank you, ma'am. This water is more than enough," I said, holding the glass up as if to prove something.

"I can barely tolerate Mrs. B, so please never call me ma'am again. It makes me feel old and that hurts my feelings. You wouldn't want to do that, Charlie, now would you?" The question was obviously rhetorical as she didn't wait for a response before returning to the previous subject, "Now, can I make you anything for breakfast? You boys are working today, right?"

"Oui, mama," Theo replied for us. "Et je vais juste prendre une pop tart aux fraises s'il en reste." The casualness with which Theo used his French with his mother was striking, given how hard it was usually for friends to coax him to say just a few words. The French for pop tart simply being pop tart also amused me for some reason. The whole scene felt surreal.

Mrs. Broussard had walked in on her son and another boy embracing in her kitchen with no pants on and her first thought was to make sure we were well-fed. She got a two-pack of strawberry pop-tarts out of the cupboard and handed it to her son. Theo opened the wrapping and offered the second pop-tart to me, knowing I wanted it but would not have asked for it myself. "Merci beaucoup, mon chéri," I said with only a hint of mockery. We both giggled to ourselves.

"Theodore, it was very kind of you to lend Charlie a shirt. I'm sure he wouldn't want to go into work in last night's clothes." I hadn't even noticed I had put on one of Theo's shirts and not my own. Embarrassment flooded both of our faces with redness.

"Actually, I didn't. He just helped himself." I made a noise of protest, but it fell on deaf ears.

"Sounds like you boys enjoyed your sleepover. Should I expect this to become a weekly occurrence now?" The way she said the word 'sleepover' made me want to dig a hole through the kitchen floor and bury myself deep enough that I'd be left for future archaeologists to discover centuries from now. "Oh my god, mom, do you have to be like this all the time?" I felt some relief that Mrs. Broussard's comments had caused her son to feel ignominy as well.