Memento
by M. F. Luder
He sighs, blinking slowly. He opens his eyes, darkness all around him. It takes a minute for his eyes to adjust. He smiles softly at Ryan who's breathing against the back of his neck, arms secure around his waist.
Seth tries to remember what woke him. He blinks sleepily, gazing at the room. The curtains are drawn and the house is silent. He places his hand over Ryan's, thumb caressing the back of his palm.
Ryan mumbles something Seth doesn't catch, Ryan's grip lessening. Seth pauses, eyes staring at the dresser. He lies there, trying to fall back asleep. Minutes pass by and Seth is convinced it's going to take more than blinking to help him.
With little effort, Seth untangles Ryan's hand. Slowly, he stands up, walking barefoot towards the door. He looks over his shoulder at Ryan's sleeping form and smiles.
He walks down the hallway, pausing at the room next to theirs for a moment. He gazes inside, smiles, and leaves the door ajar.
Making his way down the staircase to the kitchen, Seth sighs. He leans by the French doors that lead out to the back yard. Folding his arms over his chest, he gazes at the moon shining over the pool.
He smiles tenderly. He has so many good memories of his parents' pool house. He chuckles. Sweet and tender kisses, stolen in between studying sessions. Hands exploring for the first time, promises of eternal love made in the darkness and under soft sheets.
Seth knows he'll never be able to forget those memories. The corners of his lips curl upward. Memories.
He turns around, something itching in his hand, and walks back into the house. He makes his way down the hallway and to the left, to the door in front of the one leading to the garage.
Opening it, Seth turns on the light. He looks down at the small stairs; hand over his eyes, shielding them from the bright light. When his eyes get used to it, Seth takes a step forward, looking around.
The basement has many boxes with labels in black marker. His mom insisted on having everything categorized, in case they needed something one day. Ryan agreed, mostly because his mom said it, but Seth only rolled his eyes.
There are yearbooks, Seth's toys, some of Ryan's things. It doesn't even take up half the space down here and Seth wonders if there will come a point when they'll fill the room.
Seth has no idea where most things are, except for this.
He walks towards the steel bookshelf, picking up a small brown box from the lower shelf. Seth hid it here, though it's not really hiding if it's in plain sight, but still. He liked the idea of having it here, where Seth could see it whenever he wanted. He wants to open it now.
Sitting down on the floor, giving no importance to the dust covering the wooden floor because Ryan and Seth barely clean the house, let alone the basement.
He places the box between his crossed legs and blows away the dust. He starts coughing.
Rolling his eyes, he opens the box. There aren't many things inside, but he smiles as he picks up a pair of chopsticks.
The first time Ryan ate sushi with him. There is a small post-it, faded away from the years that say, "Don't get too bored. Love you." Seth recognizes Ryan's handwriting. He remembers finding it in his History book, placing a smile back on his lips, very similar to the one at the moment.
There's also blue paper wrapping, from Ryan's first birthday present to Seth. Ryan got Seth a rare copy a Superman comic, and only told him ten years later that it cost him three paychecks from the Crab Shack. He picks up some left over hearts from red cardboard Seth cut for the first Valentine's card he gave Ryan.
It's not much, Seth knows, but these are the tokens of affection that Seth has kept for the past seventeen years.
He smiles, fingers caressing each and every item. He doesn't know what pushed him to look for the box tonight, but he’s glad that he did. His heart melts at the fond memories.
Closing the lid, he stands up. Wiping away the dust from his pajama bottoms, he places the box on the lowest shelf -- where it belongs.
He walks up the stairs, looking at the box over his shoulder once more before turning off the light.
He walks down the hallway, eyes going over the pictures on the walls. Pictures of Ryan and Seth at their graduation; Ryan standing before Berkley, Seth chuckling by his side. Pictures of Christmases spent together over the years, of birthdays in between laughter and small parties. Then there's Seth's favorite: Ryan's sitting on the couch in their living room, Seth on the armrest, right arm thrown over Ryan's shoulder, Ann, of only three years old, sitting in between them.
Seth walks up the stairs, pausing at Ann's door once again. He shakes his head as he notices her bedcovers by her ankles. She has a thing about pushing the covers down. He enters the bedroom, pulls the pink and white bedspread up to her chin. He leans over, placing a small kiss on her cheek. She sighs happily.
"Sweet dreams, kiddo," he whispers to their seven-year-old daughter before walking out of her bedroom and leaving the door ajar once again.
Yawning, he closes the distance to his bed and lies down. An arm is placed over his side, pulling him to Ryan's chest. Seth sighs, intertwining his fingers with Ryan's.
"I was starting to worry," Ryan says sleepily.
Seth chuckles low in his throat. "I'm sorry. Couldn't sleep."
A kiss is placed on his shoulder. "'k." Ryan yawns. "Ann?"
"Sleeping."
Seth feels Ryan's nodding before nuzzling the back of Seth's neck.
"Love you."
The words are barely murmured, but Seth hears them clearly. He smiles, lifting Ryan's hand to kiss it, before placing it back over his stomach. "Love you too."
Ryan's steady breathing against his neck lulls Seth into sleep.
Finished: April 25, 2004. 11.30pm