Special Episode: Tatouage
This episode is part of a larger story, Soft Touch. If you haven’t yet, you can go back and read it from the beginning right here.
Well, the truth is that his heart gets hoping easily. Always has. It’s fine, though, because his head knows the facts.
He can tell himself that all he wants, but here he is. Back in Paris. Making his way down the cobbled streets through a rainy spring afternoon, his heart hammering.
His childhood comes back to him with all these familiar sights. It’s a bittersweet feeling. Makes California feel like it was a long time ago, even though it was yesterday.
Home was calling, and he finally decided to answer. He wanted to leave the emptiness he’s been feeling in his empty room in his old apartment, on a coast halfway across the world. If not leave it there, then at least give himself time to do something about it before it catches up with him.
He fills his eyes up with antique buildings, blue roofs, distant chimneys. His senses drink in the particular feeling of this particular rain, his ears the vague snatches of conversation in French as he hurries along. It’s all old, intimately familiar, but it carries the promise of something new this time.
He may have left behind a lot of painful shit when he left home. But he left behind something good, too.
He’s thought about it a lot, especially lately.
He always tries to keep himself cheerful and upbeat, but it’s been getting so much harder than usual. Realizing that work was the only thing he had bringing him any sense of real fulfillment, that the rest of his life had come to feel like nothing much… and then the abrupt realization that he was terribly, deeply lonely, and had been for a long time… all of that has had him in a dark, heavy fog.
There was Jamal for a little while. He was sweet, and maybe if they’d been together longer when his mom got sick and he had to move back home Gage would’ve gone with him. As it was, they cried a little at the airport, kissed each other by the security gate, and called it goodbye. But the little chip he put in Gage’s loneliness only made him realize how momentously huge it was, and without him there it was even bigger, and the fog was even heavier.
Here, for the first time in ages, the fog lost its hold on Gage. He got away from it, because all of a sudden he’s working his way towards something. Towards someone. Might explain why he’s walking this fast, even though there’s no reason to rush.
It’s just that he didn’t know what he wanted, only that he was burning with desire for something, that going without it was taking a hard toll on him. And when he looked back to the last time he remembered himself with a heart full of overwhelming longing – it’s not even a question.
His mind always goes to her.
It’s not like he ever forgot about her. But thinking of her now roused his heart, which hadn’t been paying attention to anything much for a long time. Before he knew it he was packing up his stuff and double-checking that his flight to Paris was still on time.
There went the whole bank account on that ticket. Thankfully he still has a few friends here willing to put him up for now, and more importantly, to provide the information he was after.
“Alright, unbelievably I found out about the girl you’re looking for. Yes, she still lives here, but only part-time. She’s in the States when she wants.”
His heart nearly fell through the floor. “Is she there now?”
“How would I know? But you could go check for yourself. I bet Nina has her address. She’s acquainted with like half of all the Americans who live in this city, it’s basically her job. She’s where I got this information in the first place. Give me a minute, I’ll text her and see.”
Gage stops outside of the address, gazing up at the building. It’s an old one, looks like it’s been here forever. There are lots of windows. He stares up at them, holding tightly to his own wrist, wondering which one is hers.
Then he hastily retreats backwards, beneath the overhang of the building across the street. To shelter himself from the rain, straighten out his sweatshirt, and stop to think for a second.
This could be a supremely bad idea, for a lot of different reasons. He knows that. He’s long past believing that life holds back the punches. And there’s a reason he gave up on this in the first place, but… who knows? Maybe things have changed. It’s been forever, it’s been years and years…
Besides, every bad idea is worth trying out a lot of times to make sure it’s a bad idea, right? He’s pretty sure he’s heard someone say that, or something sort of like it, maybe.
His restraint snaps with no warning at all. He rushes across the street, straight up to the door of the old building. His eyes run down the buzzer, swiftly reading the listed names -
And stop on Raunier.
She wrote it in herself, next to the button for her flat. He recognizes the handwriting from when she used to send him letters.
That single word in her writing seems to promise so much. Just seeing it stirs the old yearning in his chest. It strikes the exact right chord in his heart, sending beautiful music all through him. He just stands there for a second and stares at her handwriting, his heart aching, pulse flying.
He lifts his head to look up at the building again, then does a sharp double-take.
“No,” he whispers, in disbelief. “No, come on.”
“Gage!” Logan snaps angrily, striding down the sidewalk towards him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Gage hasn’t laid eyes on him for a long time, but he’s struck with the instant impression that nothing has changed. Logan really drives that home by stopping in front of him and continuing like they’re picking back up a conversation they just broke off, not seeing each other for the first time since they were teenagers.
“Why the fuck are you back in Paris?” Logan catches his arm and drags him away from the door, over to the trees sheltering the sidewalk. “You just suddenly show up like this, after all these years?”
Gage wrenches his arm free, indignantly tossing his hair out of his eyes. “How did you even know I was here?”
“Nina told me, and she told me where to find you, too.” Logan is scowling like Gage came here just to spite him. “You know you’re an embarrassment to the family! Unless you’re here because you finally decided to grow up, this is completely-”
“I’m not part of the family,” Gage answers forcefully, amazed at how Logan manages to trainwreck his usual steady calm. After all this time, all this growing up, he still does that. “You’re well aware!”
“It doesn’t matter! People will talk, if you’re here! You want us to be a laughingstock, don’t you?” Logan lets out a huge sigh, running a hand down his face. “As if we don’t already have enough problems. At least Uncle Martin is on the decline.”
Gage widens his eyes at him. “Well, that’s certainly a bright side.”
Logan breaks into a dark scowl. “You know how much that horrible old man is leaving behind. Although he keeps threatening to leave it to some charity for cats instead of me if I don’t ‘get my act together’, whatever that means. If he had his way I’d be settled down with five children by now.”
“The cats deserve it more,” Gage says flatly.
The frosty coldness in Logan’s eyes grows sharper. “If you’re here to try and beg your way back in, I hope you’re ready to make a lot of changes – actually, it’s too late. You should just go away.”
“For fuck’s sake, no I’m not, I don’t want anything to do with the family!” Gage brushes past him, glaring at him over his shoulder. “I don’t care about any of that shit. Don’t worry, you won’t see me around.”
“Oh, really? Because here you are, in my neighborhood. Where I live. I have to say it’s really inconsiderate of you, very inconsiderate. You might have thought about my feelings for five seconds.” Logan pauses to glance up at the building they’re standing in front of. “What are you doing here, anyways?”
“Nothing.” Gage tries hard not to look at the building. “None of your business. Like I said, I’ll stay out of your way-”
“Were you about to go in? Whose building is this?”
“Nobody’s!”
Logan steps up to the list of names by the interphone buzzers, reads them, and pauses on Raunier.
“Raunier.” His brows drop low. “I know that name from somewhere, don’t I?”
“No.”
“Yeah, that’s… wasn’t…?” Logan’s eyes widen with understanding, then fill with familiar mockery. “Oh, wow, Gage.”
“Fuck off,” Gage says desperately, shoving him back down the steps onto the sidewalk. “I just-”
“Really? Still? You need to get over this, it’s sad. Delusional.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion! Now would you please just go-?”
Gage falls silent mid-sentence, staring past Logan at the woman coming down the sidewalk.
She didn’t dress for the rain. Got caught in it unexpectedly, that much is clear. She’s wearing a flowing white and porcelain blue skirt, with a print of yellow flowers, and a white linen top that begins just above her skirt and sits just off of her shoulders. Both are spattered with a heavy dousing of raindrops, clinging to her body in places. Her jet-black hair is swept up into a big bun, the escaped wet strands clinging to her cheeks. Her cheeks are pink from hurrying along, even her silver jewelry glittering with droplets of rain.
A woven market basket is tucked under her arm, with a deep blue glass bottle poking out of it. It goes perfectly with the blue of her long skirt, making her look like the subject of a lovely rainswept painting as she hurries up the steps of the building, all out of breath. Some masterpiece.
She pauses before the doors and picks up a potted plant from one of the window sills. She carefully places it on the side of the steps, where it can drink up some rain.
Gage just stands there and watches her do it, his heartbeat thudding in slow motion in his ears. He watches a raindrop roll down the side of her neck as she turns away, holding a handful of her skirt, about to unlock the door.
“Noelle,” Gage hears himself call out.
She looks over her shoulder in puzzled surprise. Her grey eyes, reflecting back all the beauty of the spring afternoon, land on his face. And open very wide.
A rush of wild happiness comes over Gage’s heart, moving and rippling everything like a breeze across a meadow.
“Hey, Bug,” he laughs happily, without thinking.
Noelle stares at him in astonishment, then looks in equal amazement at Logan, who raises his hand in a wave.
“What…?” Noelle descends the steps back out into the rain, letting out a laugh of pure disbelief. “No way!”
She opens her arms. Gage eagerly starts to step forward, but Logan gets there first. He exchanges cheek kisses with her first, while Gage stands there and watches, waiting with a level of impatience normally unheard of for him.
It’s all he can do not to gather her up and crush her into his arms when she comes to him. There’s a pale pink flower petal caught in her inky hair, he notices as she leans in close to exchange cheek kisses with him.
“The Hollins brothers!” she laughs, her stunned eyes flitting back and forth between their faces. “After all this time! What are you doing here? Don’t tell me we just ran across each other by accident?”
“Gage is back in town, so we thought we’d look you up!” Logan answers, smiling down at her. “And I’m so glad we did. You look gorgeous, Noelle, incredible. What was I thinking when I let you get away?”
“What a nice thing to hear from an ex,” Noelle says, with a pretty, sparkling laugh.
Gage manages to keep the smile on his face, but suddenly he could nearly cry. This isn’t how it was supposed to go.
She does look gorgeous, though. That’s not even a good enough word for it. His sore heart can’t help but drink in the sight of her, noticing the beautiful new layers the years have added.
“Won’t you two come up?” She flutters her fingers at the building behind her. “If anything in this bag is still dry I can make us a little something.”
“Aw, no.” Logan pulls a regretful face, gesturing to his expensive suit. “I wish I could, but I rushed over here between meetings. Running the family businesses keeps me pretty booked up.”
Noelle tips her head to the side, impressed. “You’re in charge of all that, now?”
“Yes, and it’s a lot of work.” He clasps her hand, smiling down into her face. “But we’ll see each other soon? I’ll have Nina give you my number. We’ll have to get dinner, catch up.”
“Sure,” Noelle answers brightly, and gives him a wave as he turns to leave.
He nods at Gage with a tightening of his smile. “We’ll talk soon, too.”
Gage barely hears him, because Noelle has turned her smile on him, now.
“What about you, Gage?” she asks, gazing up at him through the soft rain. “Will you come up?”
Feeling like he’s in a dream, he follows her into the building and up an old flight of stairs. She leads the way into a little studio tucked into the corner of the fourth floor.
“Come in!” she calls, dropping her keys and the basket on the kitchen table. “Make yourself at home! There’s…”
She trails off, just looking at him as he stands there in her doorway. He smiles timidly at her. Deeply nervous, trying not to show it.
Her grey eyes grow infinitely warm. Suddenly she lets out a rush of laughter, darts around the table, and flings her arms around him, glowing with the smile on her face.
“I’m so happy to see you!” she laughs, like it only now sank in that he’s here. “Oh my god! I seriously can’t believe it!”
He lets out a helpless laugh of his own as he hugs her back, completely dazed. Knocked flat by the feeling of her rainswept body in his arms, trembling with laughter against him.
They draw back to look at each other, both of them smiling radiantly.
He’s not sure what to say. He’s always so thrown off by the eager, heartfelt welcomes she offers him. Catches him by surprise every time.
As if she read his mind and decided to double down, she firmly shuts the door behind him, then pushes him further into her flat.
“Come in, stay! Please, it’s been forever, we – we have so much to catch up on, I can hardly think of where to start! Do you want some tea? I just bought a really good-”
She stops, having tipped out the contents of the basket. Almost everything is drenched.
“Oh!” she wails, pressing her palms to her eyes in self-directed exasperation. She flicks a hand at her rain-spattered clothes, then the curls of long dark hair clinging to her cheek. “What a mess I am… Where did I get the idea that I could make it to the store and back before it started pouring?”
Gage just stands there staring at her, his heart full to bursting.
“I think I was just excited to wear my new skirt,” she sighs regretfully. “Now look at it!”
He does, finds the thin white fabric clinging to the slope of her thigh, and hastily looks up again.
“There’s got to be something salvageable in here,” he manages, finally recovering a little. He steps up to the table in the center of the kitchen and sorts through the contents of the basket. “Let’s see what survived. Looks like… the bread, and the cheese.”
“A proper welcome back to France!” Noelle laughs, brightening back up as she sweeps over to the kitchen shelves to take down some glasses. “You can put your shoes over there.”
He lets his gaze wander as he sets his boots aside. He always pictured Noelle living in some airy, pretty place, and he was basically right. Her flat is snug and small, but with windows everywhere, all left open. There’s a tiny balcony, too, overlooking a green courtyard below. Noelle has put a small table out there, with two chairs.
There are art reference books left around, and a bowl of bright fruits on the counter, beneath a kitchen the color of emerald river waters. Half-finished drawings pinned up to the walls, which reveal the delightful discovery that her art is still true to the style he remembers.
The floors are cold through his socks, cooled by the damp breeze. White curtains flutter at the open windows, and potted plants rustle their leaves on the shelves. It all feels very light and fresh and open, even with the day quickly turning slate grey outside. Her clothes are chaotically scattered around, along with various art supplies. Her unmade bed is in the corner, cream-colored sheets rumpled up.
She looks right at home here, a bright and pretty little bird in her nest. There’s a couch of deep moss-green velvet in the corner by the books, and even that matches the more subtle touches of color in her skirt.
Gage’s imagination instantly runs away with the green velvet couch, and her skirt, and he’s blushing a little when he turns back to her but really only just very little so it’s probably fine.
They go out together to sit at the table on the balcony. Noelle takes a deep blue tablecloth from a drawer full of linens and candles, then switches on the golden strings of light across her walls. The rain clouds are making the afternoon darker and darker. Gage pulls out his lighter for the candle at the center of the table.
Over the toasty bread, soft-ripened cheese, and cool drinks, they lapse into a long conversation. The rain taps softly on the courtyard below, and the day steadily darkens. The candle flickers at the center of the table, adding the occasional quiet snap to the serene stillness all around them. Now and then Noelle’s curtains and plants all stir with a gust of breeze spilling through the open windows.
She sits there barefoot, with her feet pulled up into her chair and her skirt draped around her knees. The light flickers over her arms, which are left bare by her white top. The long dark locks that escaped from her bun turned wavy as they dried, and now they’re floating around her face in the breeze. One of them waterfalls down her neck to kiss her collarbone. His eyes very much want to linger on it, but they keep going back up to her smiling face instead. She’s a picture in the shadowy and beautiful light, a perfect picture.
He wishes he had his video camera. The filmmaker in him is screaming that he’s missing the shot of a lifetime.
He forgot how pure this kind of peace is. How effortless it is to just sit and be with her, to talk for hours. He doesn’t notice the time going by at all. He’s just vaguely aware that it’s much darker, and that the food and drinks have been replenished a few times.
“Do you remember those candies we had, that time we went to the beach?” Noelle asks, putting some strawberry jam on a little piece of toasted bread. “The ones we ate way too many of. With the pink wrappers.”
“Yes, I do.” Gage grins broadly at the memory, putting out the cigarette he just finished. “You’ll never believe it, but I came across those candies in a shop in Santa Monica. I bought a bunch, because obviously.”
Noelle groans with jealousy. “Were they as good as I remember? Because I remember them being superior.”
“No,” Gage says emphatically, startling a laugh out of her. “We could only eat something that sweet because we were kids. It’s terrible, now.”
“Oh, tragic!” Noelle giggles.
“I ate them all anyways,” Gage admits, breathing out a laugh of his own. “It reminded me of that summer.”
It brought him right back to being smaller and sandy and running after Noelle and Noah into the rented beach house, laughing breathlessly, shedding droplets of ocean. Earning a smoldering frown from his father, which, Gage’s admiring eyes noticed, neither of the Raunier siblings seemed at all intimidated by.
Noelle smiles fondly at him.
“Why’d you bring those candies up?” he asks.
“I was going to say that I saw them in a shop last year along the beach, and it instantly made me think of that summer. I wanted to go in and get some, but it was locked, and the coworkers I was with didn’t want me to break in. Even though I promised to leave some cash.”
Gage’s heartbeat is drumming in his ears again. He can only smile at Noelle, watching the candlelight play slowly against her face.
“I do like my coworkers,” she concedes, gracefully stretching her arms up over her head. “Work has been good. I guess I’m just starting to wonder… what else do I… I mean, really, you showed up at the perfect time, I’ve been starting to get so…”
She trails off, looking closely at Gage, her fingers curling against her glass. A strange laugh flutters up from her, quick and breathless.
“You look so – so grown up now! So – different.”
“So do you,” he answers warmly. “But also the same.”
“Right, that’s you too, it’s both…” She pauses again, nibbling her lip. “Gage… were you joking before, about what you do for work?”
“Nope.”
Her eyes grow very wide, and her mouth falls open. She lets out a little squeak before she can stop herself, much like a startled kitten.
“What – but – but you were always so shy!”
He shrugs his shoulders, smiling a little. “Not anymore.”
She blushes hotly, her wide eyes reflecting back the light haloing the candle. “And you… do you… like it?”
“Yeah, I like it a lot. It’s no cakewalk, but – I like knowing that I helped other people feel good. I especially like doing my own films. Been on a kick of doing remakes of vintage pornos lately, and it’s made me appreciate the fine old traditional craft I’ve become a part of.”
He smiles when that wins a startled laugh from Noelle, who hides her face behind her hand.
“I don’t want to brag, but a priest once told me that I glorify sin,” Gage adds proudly. “Real nice of him.”
“I don’t know if he meant that as a compliment, Hollins,” Noelle answers, her voice wavering.
Gage tilts his head to the side, puzzled. “No? But he called me glorious.”
“But-” Noelle dissolves into flushed, dizzy laughter, staring with perfectly round eyes at his face. “Hang on, I’m sorry. I’m just still trying to process – you – you – you’re always throwing me totally off-guard with the things you say! That much hasn’t changed at all!”
He spreads his hands at her. “It’s just the truth, I swear! Been doing this job for years. Got a lot of films under my belt now.”
“You phrased it that way on purpose,” she answers, unable to stop another laugh from rising with this reproachful accusation. “God, I just still can’t believe it. You showed up full of surprises, didn’t you?”
Gage looks at her solemnly. “If you’d like to shed a single dramatic tear for my lost innocence you can go ahead right now. I’ll wait.”
“If that was necessary I’d have to shed a few for my own, and that sounds like a terrible waste of time!” she laughs, the dark blush lingering in her cheeks. “I’m surprised that Logan doesn’t have anything to say about all this.”
“He does, actually. I’d advise against bringing it up with him. It’s – a whole thing.”
“Oh, I see.” Noelle grows serious, turning her gaze out at the rainy plants in the courtyard. “It’s nice to see that you’re still close with your brother, though, even when you disagree. Me and Noah…”
Gage was about to correct her about the status of his and Logan’s non-existent relationship, but at this he blinks at her, taken aback. “What happened?”
“We just… we’re not in touch anymore.”
Gage draws back in complete disbelief, struggling to square that away with what he remembers of Noelle and Noah when they were kids.
Unsurprised by the astonishment in his eyes, she sighs again, more softly.
“It’s a long story. Aiden left, and then Ralph…” She trails off, realizing he doesn’t know who any of those people are. “Basically, one of Noah’s friends went off the deep end, and instead of backing away, Noah pretty much dove after him. It got to the point where we barely talked anymore, and when we did we would just argue… eventually I decided I couldn’t watch him dig himself deeper and deeper. So I cut him off. I thought for sure that would wake him up, and snap him out of it, and it just… didn’t.” She smiles sadly at Gage in the intimate light. “Hurt my own feelings with that one. Or set myself up for it, anyways. I thought I was important enough.”
Gage blinks slowly at her, turning that over in his mind. “I… I don’t know if it means that, Bug. That you weren’t important enough to him.”
She trails a finger over the rim of her glass. “Felt like it.”
“I’m sure, but there might have been other stuff going on…” Just makes no sense, at least not to Gage. “He seriously just gave up? That doesn’t sound like Noah.”
“No. He calls me, texts me sometimes. I just don’t read them, or answer. I decided a long time ago I’ve had enough. I think he’s getting the message, because he tries less and less lately.” She pauses, then adds, more slowly, “Sometimes I wonder if it’s all my fault. If I let him down, letting him get led that far astray. Whenever I’m feeling like that I want to call him. But I think we’d have to basically start over, and… we just can’t, not now. Not with him – the way he is.”
Noelle stops, falls silent for a moment. She clears her throat and recovers her smile, although there’s a touch of sadness still lingering in it.
“I do miss having him to bounce things off of. Sometimes I feel a little lost. I wonder if that’s just part of being grown up. As childish as I’m sure that sounds,” she adds hastily, with a faint blush.
“No, I know what you mean,” Gage answers slowly, then hesitates. “Part of why it feels good to have someone with you for the ride, right?”
“If only! I need someone to help keep me in line. Someone like that would be good for me.” Noelle’s fingers drift up to tuck an escaped inky strand back into her bun. “I was too much for my last few boyfriends. They all said so. You’d have to be an idiot to want to put up with it all.”
She says it carelessly, with an equally uncaring laugh, but he’s not fooled.
“Maybe they’re the problem, Bug,” he answers, watching the lock of dark hair escape her bun again. “Not you.”
She pauses, then breathes out another laugh, this one genuine and full of affection. Even as she shakes her head at him in gentle reproach.
“Don’t get me mixed up, saying things just to make me happy. You know us Rauniers are easily confused. I’m no exception.”
Yeah, I know, Gage thinks, with a heart full of adoring warmth. But I didn’t say it to make you happy.
Personally he’s never once looked at her and wished she would hold back more. If Noelle was in need of anything, he always thought, it was some encouragement.
It’s hard to think of a good way to say that to her. Especially with her looking at him, all windswept in the rainy night, the shimmering reflection of the candlelight caught in her eyes.
“I’m trying to be more practical,” she adds with determination, picking back up her little piece of toast. “More dignified, and less temperamental. All around.”
“Okay.”
“I can do it.”
“Okay.”
“I can,” she insists, with a forceful gesture that sends the spoonful of jam slipping off of the piece of bread in her fingers.
Gage manages to restrain himself from looking at it or laughing. But his lip does twitch as in his peripheral vision the little blob of jam vanishes over the terrace railing, into the darkness of the courtyard.
Noelle doesn’t notice it at all. Her black eyebrows are drawn down in indignance, her lips – back to their natural red brick color now that her lipstick has worn off… what was he thinking about?
His heart could really burst. He stares at her with such obvious, rapturous affection in his eyes that Noelle notices and lets out a quiet murmur of laughter, giving up on her attempt to frown him down.
“It really is so good to see you,” she says, more softly. “I can’t believe you remember that summer as well as I do.”
“Of course I do, it was-” The happiest I can remember being, at least before you showed up just now with your soaked groceries. “Such a good time. I’m just glad you don’t mind me looking you up out of the blue.”
“No, no,” she insists, smiling at him across the table. “It’s so good to talk like this.”
Gage glows inside. He can barely manage to contain it all someplace she can’t see it. There’s a lot more he wants to say to her, looking at her in the candlelight right now. Questions he’s longing to ask her.
Do you remember that night, in the last month of our summer? When we were staying in that cottage in the country with our families? We talked alone in your room, just you and me. I thought – maybe we had – some kind of moment… You drew a picture of me. Do you remember what you said when you gave it to me, after?
But that would certainly be a mistake, to blurt that out at her after walking back into her life earlier today. Especially given the likely possibility that no, she doesn’t remember. Just because it stuck with him something fierce, arched high over everything for him, formed a hope he took with him out of that summer and carried ever since – that doesn’t mean it had any reason to stick with her.
He can’t help hoping, though.
It dawns on him that Noelle is gazing at him through drowsy, half-lidded eyes, her chin resting heavily on her palm. The rise and fall of her chest with her breathing has slowed all the way down.
“You’re tired,” he realizes.
“No I’m not, I’m not tired at all,” she insists, earnestly but unconvincingly. “It’s just that my eyes keep closing.”
Gage glances up, noticing all at once that night has fallen. It’s even had time to grow dark and deep, softly enfolding the whole city. “What time is it?”
Noelle looks out at the terraces of the building across the courtyard. The windows behind them are all glowing with the warm lights of their apartments, instead of the rainy afternoon sunlight that was left when they sat down.
“Oh – whoa. I don’t know.” Noelle looks back at Gage, letting out a bewildered laugh. “I didn’t even… I hope you didn’t have somewhere else to be!”
“No,” he promises affectionately. “Everywhere else can go straight to hell.”
“For god’s sake,” she giggles, shaking her head at him.
But she is undeniably growing tired, so they go together back into her apartment, which is cozily draped in velvet shadows, only half-lit by the mango orange glow of the lamps. The whispering of the rain follows them inside, finding its way through the open windows. The breeze flutters the drawings she has pinned to the walls, and makes the candles sputter.
Gage is filled up with a sense of deep, intimate peace as he and Noelle lapse into a moment of quiet together, setting empty glasses and crumb-speckled plates down in the kitchen. He’s extremely unaccustomed to the sensation. Makes him wish he could drop his forehead onto her shoulder in gratitude.
He’s dying to sweep her into his arms and hold her. It would be the easiest, most natural thing in the world to do that.
Slow down, he reminds himself desperately.
There’s a reason he wore Jamal’s faded pale blue sweatshirt over here. It hides Gage’s tattoo, which would be hard to explain to Noelle. Verging on impossible to explain. He got it thinking he would never see her again. She has no idea how badly he’s wanted this moment, and to show her all at once would definitely be the wrong choice.
The tattoo would be an undeniable admission of the truth. Assuming she does remember that night when they talked, and she drew him. Even if she doesn’t, that it’s in her style is a pretty big hint.
Fuck. He actually didn’t think about this too much before he came here. Just enough to wear the right sweatshirt.
Well. One thing at a time.
She turns around and leans back against the counter, drying her hands on a dishcloth, inquiring eyes peering up into his face.
“Are you staying in Paris? You moved back, you’re not just visiting?”
“Yes,” he answers, deciding on the spot.
Sure didn’t put too much thought into that one, but the way she smiles makes it automatically the right call.
He’s mentally preparing to let himself be walked to the door, but then she asks him about something, and they end up sitting on the green velvet couch for a while, talking for longer. It’s only when she can barely keep her eyes open that Gage finds it in himself to remind her that he was headed out.
Even the sight of her slowly drooping deeper and deeper into the cushions makes his head spin with fierce warmth. A memory springs into his mind of a much younger Noelle, slowly waking up from an unintended nap, her clothes crumpled, raven hair tousled up. A perfect pink print of a button left on her cheek, because she fell asleep with her head on her jacket.
He can hardly believe that she’s standing here. Real and bright and breathing, within reach of his own two hands.
“We’ll see each other again?” she asks hopefully, when Gage stops in the hallway just outside of her door.
“Definitely,” he confirms, wondering if he’s actually still asleep back in Cali, having a truly exceptional dream. “Cool if I text you?”
“That’s why I gave you my number,” she laughs, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe.
“I just don’t want to bother you…”
“Bother me? No, you wouldn’t.” She adds, on a warm, drowsy sigh: “Everything is so much better now that you’re here.”
He doesn’t want to leave. It’s really hard to go. He and Noelle just stand there for a moment, clustered close by the doorframe like they’re magnetized to it. Her grey eyes – now a bright silver – are speckled with reflections of the warm light one second, pooled with it at the slightest turn of her head.
“I’ll – I’ll text you, then,” Gage promises, and receives a goodbye air kiss on each cheek before he reluctantly pulls himself away.
A harassed-looking old woman goes past him as he heads down the hallway to the stairs. Noelle calls out a polite good evening to her.
“A good evening!” the old woman sputters, her indignant French echoing down the hall. “My dear, I was just walking home and someone dropped some jam on my shoulder! From their window! Right in the courtyard! Teenage hooligans, I’m sure of it!”
“What!” sputters Noelle, quite shocked, wholly unaware that she’s responsible. “How strange! This city, honestly! I can’t imagine what people are doing! What sort of maniac would throw jam at an old lady?”
Beaming to himself, Gage barely makes it outside before the laugh simmering up in him escapes. He stands still on the doorstep for a moment to recover, and his eyes fall on the potted plant that Noelle forgot out in the rain. It’s facing the wind, which is picking up a little.
He tucks it safely back into its windowsill, then sets off into the rainy night, glowing inside.
Time passes without any clear thoughts forming in his head, just a vague sense that everything is perfect and Paris is beautiful and the world is full of good things, and that even just to take big deep breaths of night air is an incalculable gift.
He barely notices the cobblestones. Tonight his feet have wings. Tonight he’s fucking invincible.
He lets out a dizzy laugh. He went to her hoping she might save him from the fog, and she woke him from it so gently that he didn’t even notice it happening.
Now he’s noticed, though. He’s practically trembling with excitement, so all over the place that he can barely let himself into the building where his friends live.
“Mace!” he calls out, closing the door of her flat behind himself.
She strides out into the entryway wearing her thigh-high leather boots, some lipstick, and very little else.
“God, Gage, why do you sound so worked up? You better keep the noise down after this, I’m filming tonight.” She pauses, noticing the expression on his face. “Whoa, what happened to you? Did you find who you were looking for? You were gone for ages.”
“Yes, and I need to stay in Paris.”
Macy raises an eyebrow. “And where are you going to live? Don’t say-”
“Here?” He makes a begging face, pressing his palms together. “I’ll share a room with someone, I’ll sleep on the floor, anything, whatever.”
She sighs deeply, tilting her head back. “Do you know how many people live here already? It’s like a carousel, with everyone going in and out! If the landlord had the slightest idea…”
“Please, please? I can pay you rent. If it’s more than-” He slips his wallet out of his pocket, glances into it, and winces. “Eight dollars, then I’ll need, um – just a few days to get it together-”
“Are you sure?” She smiles wickedly at him, leaning back against the couch. “You don’t want to get into debt to Macy DeLacey.”
“I’ll get down on my knees and beg if I have to.”
“Playing to my weaknesses,” she laughs softly, then brightens, struck with a sudden idea. “Oh, hang on a sec – I know! We both need money, so let’s shoot something together. We can both post it, and you can stay here. My style of film, though.”
He drops his gaze to what she has in her hands. “Does that mean you’re going to whip me?”
“Not where anyone will see the marks,” she promises sweetly. “It’ll be fun. And it’s been too long since we worked together.”
“Okay, sure, yeah,” he answers, relieved. “I like that. But – let’s shoot it tomorrow?”
His head is too full of Noelle right now.
Macy tilts her head to the side and smiles. “Deal.”
Gage lets out a huge breath of grateful relief, stuffing his wallet back in his pocket. “Thank you so much, seriously-”
“Yeah, yeah,” she sighs, coming over to him. She pulls his shirt up over his head and tosses it aside, then takes his hand and leads him into her bedroom. “Let’s take a teaser pic I can post tonight, though.”
She pushes him down onto his knees, expertly binds his wrists. He arranges himself in front of her camera, arching his back slightly and widening his knees, then remembers something.
“Wait, Mace – get my necklace? It’s in the front part of my backpack.”
“Is that really necessary? Picture’s gonna take like ten minutes.”
“Whenever I’m filming, or shooting,” he insists.
“Bratty,” Macy sighs, reaching for his backpack.
“But you’re doing it,” he answers fondly, as she puts the necklace Noelle gave him around his neck.
She lets out a lazy laugh, messing up his hair until it looks properly tousled, then takes him by his ears. She makes him look up at her, kisses him to smear some lipstick on his face.
“I’ll make you pay for it later.” She unzips his jeans, wrenches them wide open, tugs his boxer briefs down a little lower on his hips, then steps back to take a look at the overall effect. “I’d say I should get you good and flustered, but I see someone’s already beaten me to it. What’s got you this worked up?”
“Nothing,” he answers breathlessly, his mind full of moss-green velvet and rain-wet skirts.
“You’re blushing so hard!”
“No, I’m not!” He fixes her with a wounded, accusatory pout. “Stop torturing me.”
“That’s like my whole thing, babe. Matter of fact, enjoy getting it for free, lucky boy. Most people have to pay for the privilege.” Macy gives him her sly smile, her eyes lingering on the crimson color in his cheeks. “I’m not complaining. Keep blushing like that, it’s hot.”
“Anything you say.”
“Bring that energy when we film tomorrow,” she laughs.
She arranges herself in front of the camera, posed before him. This way he’ll be framed kneeling between her glossy high-heeled boots and perfect legs, with the tip of her black leather riding crop teasingly pressed to his chest. A nice little shot.
But instead of taking the picture she laughs, shaking her head.
“Could you try to look a bit more intimidated and pitiful? You’re glowing down there. Are you an actor or not?”
He gives himself a shake, trying to pull it together. “Sorry, I just-”
“No, you know what? It’s fine, actually. Stay just like that. We’ll go for an eager good boy kind of thing, since you’re giving off that energy in crazy amounts right now. And it’s really cute on you. I can practically see your tail wagging. Whatever got you this way, you should do it before every shoot.” Macy crinkles up her nose at him, breathing out a laugh. “I’ve never seen you like this, Gage.”
Probably because he can’t remember feeling like this, not since that summer. No wonder it’s making him somewhat unpredictable.
He’s exhausted from the sudden rush across the world to get here, but still humming with some kind of adrenaline high. Once he’s taken a few pictures with Macy and rubbed her lipstick off his face he goes back outside, wandering in the darkness, taking deep breaths of the rainy night air.
The city has come alive to him, in some vibrant way that reaches him through his whole body. It feels huge and wild and mysterious. The moon is high, the clusters of unopened buds on the trees swaying dreamily.
Everything went so much better than he dared to hope.
He’d count it as perfect, except he’s sad to hear about Noah. Logan showing up today at just the wrong moment was bad and unfortunate, too. Now Logan knows that Noelle is here in Paris, and clearly Noelle doesn’t bear him a grudge over what happened back in high school…
But Gage can’t see why Logan would try to get in the way. He told Gage long ago that Noelle was ‘too much work’ for him. Besides, short-lived hookups have become Logan’s signature style, and he won’t try that with Noelle. It wouldn’t work.
Hopefully he’ll just leave Noelle alone. He might track down Gage now that he knows he’s here, try to boss him around and make him leave, but whatever. That doesn’t matter. None of that matters.
What matters is that Noelle is here. He found her again. She’s even more beautiful than he remembered, her eyes are exactly as silvery grey as he remembered, and she greeted him just as sweetly as she always did before. She still makes that art he always loved so much. She didn’t forget him – she was happy to see him! She wants to see him again.
Everything is so much better now that you’re here.
Eventually he stops and leans back against the overgrown wall of a building, realizing that he’s trembling with joy.
And maybe with fear, just a little bit. He’s letting his hopes run off with him. But it’s okay, because his mind knows the facts.
Realistically: she’s still saying all the same things about what she wants, and what she wants is to fit neatly into polite society, a place where Gage isn’t welcome. Demonstrably not welcome. Like, he was born there and they threw him out.
None of what Noelle described is anything he’s capable of giving her, truth be told. She says she wants someone to help keep the wildness down in her, and that he won’t do. He’d do anything for her except that.
If only she gave up on that whole idea, though… and he desperately hopes she might.
If she thinks there’s no idiot willing to fall in love with her exactly how she is, well – she’s wrong. There’s at least one idiot who’s done it already.
He traces a hand over his arm, following the line of his tattoo through his sweatshirt. Work is all make-believe, roleplay. Now, finally, he feels like something real might happen…
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