Home > Reclaiming the Sand(43)

Reclaiming the Sand(43)
Author: A. Meredith Walters

“He’s strong,” Flynn grumbled, wiping canine salvia off his hands in the grass. He made a face and held his palms out away from his body. I pulled a tissue out of my back pocket and took one of his hands gently and slowly wiped his skin clean.

He didn’t pull away. He stayed perfectly still until I was finished and had tucked the tissue back in my pocket.

I was standing so close to him that I could smell the clean tang of his soap. I could see every strand of his thick, dark hair in the moonlight. The sloping curve of his lips and the dip of his neck where it met his shoulders beneath his long sleeved shirt.

Flynn was looking at the ground, his hands now gripped in front of him in a tight knot. His chest was rising and falling rapidly but he wasn’t backing away.

We were only a few inches apart. If I reached out I could wrap my arm around him. If I leaned in, I could kiss him. I could lay my head on his shoulder.

I swallowed around the lump that had taken up residence in my throat. The air hummed with awareness. And I could tell by the tension in Flynn’s shoulders and the tightness in his jaw that he felt something too.

And he still wasn’t moving…

“Can we try that again? I won’t let him get the ball this time,” Flynn said suddenly, breaking our trance.

I licked my dry lips and could only nod. Words had failed me.

“Let me get it. No sense in getting your hands covered with dog drool again,” I said, giving him, what I hoped, was a convincing smile.

Flynn peeked up at me through the long strands of his hair and returned my smile with a shaky one of his own.

Something had happened in those few seconds that had changed everything.

I just didn’t know what.

I crept back over to Murphy who was now watching me warily as I approached. His tail started thumping the grass behind him, his large paws holding on to the ball in front of him.

“Hey big boy,” I crooned, grinning as his tail started wagging wildly. I dropped down onto the ground beside him and scratched behind his ears. Out of all the dogs for Flynn to take home, he had adopted the one I loved the most. The one I had connected with in a way I had never been able to connect with another living thing. Except for Flynn.

And now they were making a home together. They would keep each other company. They would love each other. And I wished like hell I could be a part of that. I wanted to be included in the tiny family Flynn had created by bringing Murphy here.

There were those damn tears again. That smelly dog and frustrating man were reducing me to a sniveling mess.

I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand, wiping away the wetness that had escaped behind my eyelids, and grabbed the ball while Murphy was still enjoying his ear scratches.

I jumped to my feet and ran. The huge beast lumbered after me, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“Over here, Ellie! I’ll catch it!” Flynn hollered, waving his arms over his head. I threw the ball in his direction.

“In coming!” I screamed, doubling over in fits of laughter as Murphy took off after it, colliding with Flynn, sending them both to the ground.

A few seconds later, Murphy trotted off, once again victorious.

Flynn sat up and held his hands up in the air. “I give up. He’s too strong for me!”

I joined him on the grass, the dirt cool beneath me. “Yeah, he’s one tough pooch,” I conceded, watching the dog in question with blatant affection.

“That was fun,” Flynn grinned, slowly stretching his legs out in front of him but he was careful not to touch the grass. He folded his hands in his lap, looking rigid and uncomfortable.

“Yeah it was. I needed that,” I said, my voice sounding loud all of a sudden. I cleared my throat and looked up toward the house. It was lit up like a Christmas tree. Lights were on in every window. It looked warm and inviting, just like it always had.

Flynn fidgeted. I looked down at him and he was trying to situate himself so he could be more relaxed.

“We don’t have to sit on the ground. You have some perfectly nice benches that we can use,” I told him.

He shook his head. “No. Kevin says I should make myself experience new things. Things that I don’t like or that make me anxious.”

I smirked. “And sitting on the ground is a new experience?” I scoffed.

“I don’t like the feel of the grass. It’s rough. It’s itchy. I hate it,” he mumbled, rubbing his hands together.

Sometimes I could almost forget that there was anything unusual about Flynn. He had obviously worked hard over the years to suppress his more troublesome traits. Sure he was still awkward and said things that the rest of the world would only think in their heads. But his honesty was refreshing. It was nice knowing where you stood with someone instead of constantly second-guessing.

But then there times like this, when it was impossible to ignore how much he struggled in his day-to-day life. I was in awe of the man who was sat beside me, trying not to freak out because the grass was scratching his skin.

I thought I had it tough. I had lived so long in my egocentric bubble that I had forgotten that there were other people in the world who fought battles a lot more brutal than mine.

Flynn reminded me that fighting had to always be an option.

“Can you lie back on the grass, Flynn?” I asked him. He looked at me like I was crazy.

“There are bugs in the grass, Ellie. They’ll crawl in my hair. They can get in my ears.” He sounded as though he were on the verge of a full-blown panic attack.

I needed to try this another way.

I pointed upwards and tilted my head back. “Look up then,” I said in hushed tones.

Flynn obeyed and tilted his head back.

“What do you see?” I asked him.

Flynn was quiet, his eyes trained on the sky above him. Finally he answered in an equally quiet voice.

“I see the universe.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Flynn looked over at me and I met his eyes. And he held them. He didn’t look away. “Yes. It’s beautiful.”

I felt myself flush. I cleared my throat. “Can I touch you?” I asked.

Flynn was quiet for a long time and I didn’t think he was going to answer me. But finally he nodded. A slight incline of his head giving me permission.

I gently placed my fingers on his chin, turning his face back up to the night sky. “If you watch long enough you’ll see a falling star. Have you ever seen a falling star before?”

Flynn shook his head. “No. I haven’t,” he whispered.

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