We will not fulfill any book request that does not come through the book request page or does not follow the rules of requesting books. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Comments are manually approved by us. Thus, if you don't see your comment immediately after leaving a comment, understand that it is held for moderation. There is no need to submit another comment. Even that will be put in the moderation queue.

Please avoid leaving disrespectful comments towards other users/readers. Those who use such cheap and derogatory language will have their comments deleted. Repeat offenders will be blocked from accessing this website (and its sister site). This instruction specifically applies to those who think they are too smart. Behave or be set aside!

Eight Weeks: Chapter 32

Aaron

“real sweet but I wish you were sober”—Wish You Were Sober by Conan Gray

 

“Sofia, my love, let’s get you—” Aaaand she falls onto her bed. Great.

When she said she wanted to get wasted, I wasn’t expecting her to get wasted. I thought, maybe she would get a drink or two, not drown herself in liquor to the point where she can no longer walk in a straight line. Or any line, really.

She’s still wearing all her clothes, accessories, and makeup. I can remove her earrings and hairclips, stuff like that. I’d even remove her makeup because I know how much she’ll hate herself in the morning if she doesn’t take that off before going to sleep. But I refuse to change her clothes. It’s a privacy invalidation I am not going to mess with. Not in the condition she’s in right now.

I’d gladly take her clothes off, but not when she’s not stone cold sober.

“Sofia,” I say over and over again while I remove accessory after accessory. She just doesn’t wake up. Every now and then I earn myself a grumpy groan, and a half-attempted slap… so at least I know she’s alive.

Once I’m sure she won’t poke herself with some bobby pins, or earrings, I look around her room and try to figure out where she keeps makeup wipes. That’s what girls use to remove makeup, right? I’m not sure, but I swear Ana used to use those all the time, and they sound like they remove makeup, so why not?

I search through every drawer attached to Sofia’s makeup vanity, and of course I find an almost empty package of makeup wipes in the very last. At least I hope they’re makeup wipes because I can’t understand a single word on these labels. Luckily, the back of the package has an English translation, so now I’m relieved to know I won’t accidentally burn Sofia’s face off when I use them on her skin.

As I kneel down in front of Sofia, I take a deep breath before pulling one of the wipes out of the package and begin to remove her eye makeup. Is there a specific order in which makeup should be removed? If so, I most definitely am not sticking to it.

By the time I have most of her eye makeup removed, about five wipes have been thrown on to her nightstand because they’re no longer useable. And when I add the sixth, Sofia suddenly opens her eyes and stares at me a little disorientated.

“Hi,” she says a little slowly, sleepy.

Suppressing a chuckle, I continue to wipe off her makeup. “Hi.”

She breathes heavily and rolls over on her side, slowly shaking her head at me when I get up and lean over her to remove the last bits of makeup. “I want to sleep.”

“You think you can get changed first?” I doubt it but asking won’t hurt.

Sofia sits up, or tries to, so I pull her up instead. As soon as she sits, she reaches for the hem of her dress to pull it up, and she’s quick to get frustrated when she’s too weak to pull the fabric from underneath her ass. You know, the one she’s currently sitting on.

I let her struggle for a little while longer, just so I can throw away the used makeup wipes and find something Sofia could wear to sleep.

Once I decide on a shirt of mine she can wear, and turn back around, Sofia is lying on her back again, having given up on getting undressed.

“I fell,” she whines, struggling to sit back up. So I go to help her up… again. Sitting up straight once more, she tries her very best to pull up her dress but fails miserably. “Help me, Nix.”

I decide to get it over with so she can go to sleep. Pulling Sofia off the bed, I set her down on the floor. She keeps her hands on my shoulders for balance while I pull her dress over her hips. With my eyes set on hers, I’m quick to lift it over her head and let the dress fall to the floor. All of a sudden, Sofia stars to laugh but doesn’t keep me from pulling my shirt over her head and body to cover her back up.

“This smells like you,” she says and grins widely.

“Yeah?”

Sofia excessively nods her head, and I can’t help the smile that appears on my face. My smile doesn’t stay unnoticed and seems to distract Sofia for a moment.

Her hands reach up to my face, her thumbs pushing the corners of my mouth higher up to which her laughter turns into a soft smile. “Did you know you have a lopsided smile?”

“Do I?” Of course I know that.

“Yes!” She sighs lightly. “I like it. It’s cute. You’re cute.”

“You think I’m cute?” I pick Sofia up and lay her down on the bed again. As soon as she lies on her back, I pull down her tights but she’s helping me—sort of—by kicking them off in the end.

Once that is done, I leave her to herself for a second, just so I can find some sweatpants to wear for bed.

“Very cute. I have tons of pictures of you,” she admits. For her own sake, I will pretend like she never even said that. I’ve blurted out a couple of things when drunk, and I’ve got to say, admitting to certain ones of those still gives me the ick when I think about it. Some things are just meant to stay unsaid, and for some ears, these are meant to stay unheard.

After changing into some sweatpants and getting rid of my shirt, I sneak myself into the bed. Sneaking because as it seems, Sofia has fallen asleep.

She hasn’t. Because the second I lie beside her, she turns on her side, facing me. One of her hands finds my face, her palm resting right on my cheek as she stares at me in the dark. And then she sighs, deeply, heavily.

“What’s wrong, Icicle?” I ask, worried that she might have to puke or something like that.

“I held on to it,” she says, scooching a little closer to me. So close, she now leans forward and rests her forehead against mine. “The promise you made.”

“Which one?” Having made enough to last me a lifetime, I only roughly have an idea which one she’s talking about.

“All of them.” Her hot breath rolls over my skin as she exhales. “That you will come find me, and we’ll get married.”

I think my heart just stopped beating for a short moment. Being aware that this is mostly the alcohol talking, I tell myself to not get my hopes up. I, too, have been holding on to these promises. Truthfully, I wasn’t expecting to ever see Sofia again, because trying to find her in a country without knowing in which area she stayed, I didn’t even bother looking for her once I turned eighteen. And yet I never managed to move on from her.

Sofia has been who kept me from being with Winter, even though she hasn’t been in the picture at that time. Being with Winter just felt wrong. My heart has always belonged to someone else, and it forever will. I know that now.

Liking Sofia and holding on to a couple of silly promises has never been just a mind thing. Sometimes souls connect way before they’re meant to find together, but you just know you’re connected to someone. Sofia and mine connected when we were little, otherwise the thought of her being with anyone but me wouldn’t hurt as much as it does. And thinking of my future with anyone but Sofia by my side wouldn’t disgust me as much if my soul didn’t know I am supposed to be with her. Nobody on this planet could ever tell me that Sofia isn’t meant for me.

But if we’re going to have this conversation, I want Sofia to be sober and not say things because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

“Go to sleep, my love.”

She shakes her head. “I always had a wedding for us in mind. You probably won’t like it, but it’s my ultimate dream wedding. Want to hear it?”

I nod even before my common sense could kick in. If there are some things I should not be listening to when Sofia is drunk… it would be her professing her undying love for me, and wedding plans. Fuck, we’re not even a couple and she has thought it all through.

Can’t say I haven’t, but still.

“I want it to be Tangled themed,” she says.

“Tangled? As in the movie?”

“Yes.” She grins, I think. “Lanterns hung up above the tables like they’re these floating ones. Purple everywhere, because, you know I love purple. I want to wear white while all my guests have to wear a light purple color, wisteria, how you’d put it. And you, Aaron, you, too, will have to wear white because that way we stick out from the purple crowd. My hair should be up in braids with flowers in them like Rapunzel had it when they got to the festival. I want white arches with lilacs all throughout the aisle, but of course with some distance between them. A white cake with purple flowers, too. I want it to be out in the open, preferably in the dark so you can see the fairy lights better, but they’ll be visible for the afterparty anyway, so that’s not too much of a concern. I just want it to be magical.”

“Go to sleep, Sofia.” I certainly won’t be able to anymore. Why did she have to tell me this? It only makes me want to make her dream come true so badly.

Sofia snuggles herself closer to me, and because I feel like torturing myself a little more, I close my arms around her.

She’s been quiet for a while now, the only sounds coming from her are the usual breathing sounds. At least until I’m actually seconds away from falling asleep, even though I have had my bets set on not being able to.

I am tired, truly. It’s been a long day and I haven’t gotten much sleep the day prior. But when she speaks up again, and completely messes with my head, I know I won’t close an eye tonight.

“Promise me you will do everything in your power to make that dream come true, Aaron.”

I promise, I say in my head but don’t voice it.


Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Options

not work with dark mode
Reset