Something New - A Short Short StoryTitle:
Don't Ever ChangeRating:
Max hates rain. Like, he really
hates rainAuthor's Note:
It is raining and disgusting out, and this is actually based on some of my own experiences. I suggest you get in bed, snuggle under some blankets, and then read this. And also, can someone please
make me stop writing hurt/comfort? It's getting out of hand, and I swear, it's not all I'm able to write. I can be dark and disturbing too, I promise!Story Index
Jude looks at the paint, and sees the perfect shade - a reddish orange, or maybe orangish red, that is so bright and vibrant and reminds him of Max, even though Max isn't that color at all. It reminds him of Max, and the sun, and flowers in a field, and he isn't sure what he's going to make with it, but he knows he needs to have it so he can see it spread out over his canvas. He grins, images forming in his head, as he goes to the cash register to get his purchase rung up. The old man at the register smiles at him - Jude's a regular now, at this small art store - and Jude looks out the window and sees that it's begun to rain.
It's the middle of one of their walks around the city, and Jude left Max standing outside, smoking a cigarette. "Sorry I took so long," Jude says, stepping out of the store. He looks around, and then kneels down to where Max is huddled near the ground. "Max, love?"
Max looks up at him, his face covered in tears. Jude kisses him on the forehead. "What's wrong?" He hugs Max, standing up, so Max will stand up with him.
"Bad memories," Max chokes out.
Jude nods, and holds Max close, stroking his back. "It's okay," he whispers. "C'mon, let's get going."
Max shakes his head, his eyes dark and haunted.
Jude cups Max's face in his hands. "What are your memories of?"
Max looks down at the ground. "'s stupid. It rained a lot, all the time, and it got so everything was wet, like, blankets and socks and food, and I felt like I'd never be warm or dry again, like I'd never be out of there. It's so stupid, so fucking stupid. I just hate it, this isn't Vietnam, it's not, I just..."
"It's okay," Jude whispers. "It's scary. Listen - we're two blocks from home. Let's run, and let's just - just yell the whole time, and then we'll be there and we'll get dried off, and we'll go under all our blankets and I'll make some hot chocolate. That won't be like Vietnam, will it?"
Max shakes his head.
Jude takes his hand, and the two start running, yelling out loud, dodging pedestrians who look at them like they're mad. They don't stop until they're in the lobby of the apartment, out of breath. Jude clutches his sides, breathing heavily. He turns to Max, who's soaking wet. "Alright, c'mon."
They make their way up the steps slowly, Max's hand still gripped firmly in Jude's. Jude concentrates on peeling Max's soaked clothes off him, and helping him into some warm sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt. He pulls back the covers and kisses Max's forehead. "There you go," he says, warmly. "I'll go make some hot chocolate."
Max looks at him. "What about you?"
"Oh," says Jude. "I forgot." He peels off his own wet clothes, and finds a pair of Max's sweatpants on the floor.
"Don't worry about the hot chocolate," says Max. "Come here."
Jude nods, and crawls under the blankets. Max hugs him like he's a giant teddy bear, and Jude inhales. He doesn't have any problem with rain, but even so, just being here is tremendously comforting. "You feeling better?" he asks.
Max nods. "I'm the kind of guy who never used to cry."
Jude shrugs. "I love you when you're happy... I love you when you're blue."
"I know. I just... I hate being like this, man. I don't know what to do, and I hate that you have to deal with it."
"There is nothing I won't do for you," whispers Jude. "Anytime at all."
"Why? Why'd you choose me over Lucy, anyway?"
"Because when I'm with you, I'm happy. Isn't that enough? I'm happy, and you're safe, and that's just-- that's it. That's all we've got. It's not perfect, neither of us are perfect."
"But we're here, you know? What else is there?"
Max nods. "Yesterday..."
"Doesn't matter one bit."