FOURTEEN:: when you miss your lover, man.

                   It was impossible to avoid Carlos. In the exhibit, in the... parking lot, in the 'drinks after work' that I'd been dragged into by Tanya. I hadn't been able to avoid Carlos, we worked together and humans were surely not meant to withstand so much temptation at once.

                  Jules had been so attentive these past few weeks, there was a shift. He was bringing me food in between classes, he was asking me about my feelings and he was adamant on communication.

It felt like we were learning each other again, we were new and he had his spark back. He was all I could think about even sitting diagonal from Carlos — Carlos from high school Carlos — in some shoddy bar.

                  His hair was curling over his forehead, thick brows knitted together at the middle. He had a plain white tee, and a leather jacket he'd shrugged off... some torn jeans and cowboy boots -I could tell by the point at the toe. He was so focused on Tanya, who was rightfully voicing her notes on the lack of afro-latinx representation in media.

A few other people who'd been setting up that evening had rounded us and I could not remember any of their names, but a shiver ran up my spine when he looked over at me. Why was I watching him?

Carlos' lip was pouty, had been all night. I busied myself with my Heineken Zero because there was something so unnecessary about exchanging flirty glances with anyone who wasn't Jules. It didn't make my heart race, it did nothing for me really and I knew he would mind.

I turned, the stool under me felt too stiff for my taste but there were burly men playing darts and some old blue tune in the background, this place was kinda alright. It felt authentic, Carlos' cowboy boots did too. The moment I stared at my phone, Jules' smiling face popped up, that picture of him at the waterfall. He was calling, and nerves prickled at my neck.

It was too loud though, if I answered it would be a bigger deal than need be. I couldn't just tell him I was getting a drink with my coworkers. He would get the wrong idea. It's only 6, not too late to invite him. I want him here.

                      Can't talk right now, baby. sent.

Carlos was standing behind me, I could feel the heat of his chest on my back, he was leaning into me and I stepped forward.

He stepped up beside me, swaying into me to the beat of some cool soulful song. It was jazz night at Local. Carlos bumped his shoulder into mine. "We're not going on that date, huh?" His hip brushed into mine and he bit his bottom lip with those big brown eyes, almost hopeful, I felt bad.

He laughed so softly when I scrunched my brows up. "Sorry."

"It's cool." He shrugged, his beer hanging from his fingertips, he slung an arm around my shoulder and I tried not to overthink it. "You're finally dating your... roommate?"

I shook my head, pressing the bore of my bottle to my lips. "That ended in tragedy." After talking to Jules, he hadn't spent a single night in the apartment. It had been four days now and I was noticing that his things were slowly disappearing. He must've been dropping by when I was in class.

I wasn't sure if I'd ever see him again.

"Yeesh, buy you a shot?" Please.

Jules was texting me now, and his little thought bubbles had all my attention.
imy wya —short and sweet and I was ready to crawl into bed.

"That him?" Carlos was looking over my shoulder, nose all in my phone and I could feel his breath tickling my ear.

"Los." Shooing him away, he stepped back on his heel and took a sip of his beer with wide eyes.

"Damn. It's like that?"

Yeah.

"He better be Maluma."

"You think I know Maluma?"

Carlos shrugged. "The world is small." And when I didn't respond, he bumped his shoulder into mine, again. "I'm kidding, I get it. I was too slow."

I thought that was it. That couldn't be all he had to say. "I'm a little impressed he bagged you, you're hard to keep interested.
Yeah, I guess. "Show me a picture."

        That's so weird. "H-he's my ex. I think you know him. Julian?" But he just furrowed his brows and that was really as much effort as I would give it. "Soccer player, freckles. He's tall. No?" Okay.

I'm not showing you pictures of my boyfriend.

"He said he's met you before..."

Olde Smith's with some of the other artists. It's loud.

"You talk about me?"

Jules said...

We just got here, you should swing by.

                      "Well, we kinda have a lot of history and we're trying again, so..." I tried. "I didn't mean to get you all..." tangled.

                      "It's serious." He shrugged. "I respect that."

                       "Want another one?" He asked grabbing my bottle, I nodded, part of me hoped he'd order me a real one.

i was actually calling to see what u
were up to. it's ben's cousin's birthday,
so he's having a few people over, come by
when you're done. you can bring your friends
pete and will are here too

I could picture him typing that out, adding more clarification and, ultimately, making it more wordy than need be.

Okay baby.  See you soon. <3

                       "How's Christopher?"

                       "He's good." There was so much pride in his eyes. I remembered him talking about his and Jennifer's (his high school sweetheart) son the night we spent together. He talked so highly of her too, and the way they raised him together, it was admirable really.

                        Just how awful was it to be so incredibly in love with someone and still see the potential in a missed flame? Was I a terrible person? I could envision myself with Carlos, and part of me knew it would be a lot easier.

                      I hated that it felt like that.

                      And here he was cooing over his son, so harmlessly. I remembered the feeling of him holding me, the way he kissed my skin. I remembered that, being so fragile, it felt so comfortable. I could've cried in his arms that night and I knew he'd still look at me like this.

                       "He's in little league, baseball, super dedicated, been staying over Jenny's a lot more to get in early practices. I miss him like hell."

My phone buzzed again. "Sorry."

drive safe, have fun. <3
I swallowed back the guilt in my throat.

"He's blowing you up." Carlos offered, a smile, an unopened beer in hand and outstretched to me. Heineken 0, maybe he was paying too much attention to me. "You should go be with him."

                         "Is it bad to leave so early?"

                        "No. It's a Tuesday." He laughed, taking another swig of his beer and motioning towards the door. "I'll walk you out."

                         Nodding, I tucked myself into my coat and watched him shrug his jacket on. "Be right back," he threw to the group, nodding at me once I'd grabbed my things.

                       It was chilly, slightly, just enough for a jacket. I'd gotten used to Chicago spring but nothing hit you worse than that below 30 on the first hot day in weeks.

                      My teeth were chattering and Carlos slung an arm over my shoulder, tugging me in as we walked to the parking lot.

                    I could see my car. "Thank you."

                    And when we'd gotten to the lot, I unlocked my doors and hopped in, Carlos shivering beside me. I offered to drop him back at the front door.

                    My car was heating up and he was staring at me with those big, brown eyes. Rubbing my hands together to warm them, I avoided his gaze and then he was laughing.

                    "You can't look at me like that after saying you have a boyfriend, it's not fair." And that was crazy. I hadn't looked at him in ten minutes.

                      "Like what?"

                      "Like that."

                      "That's just my face." I laughed and when Carlos cracked a smile, I realized how close we were. Carlos' eyes were locked on mine and I didn't realize that I was looking at him a certain way but now that he mentioned it, I was sure I'd never look at him again.  "He's coming to the opening."

                   "I wouldn't expect less... Invite him out next time."

: : :

                    Jules' place was only a 25 minute drive from the bar, that whole 25 minutes, I swore I was melting into a puddle. Excitement stretched over every pore. There was something so peaceful about driving home to him.

                   There were five or six cars in their driveway when I pulled up so I parked on the street behind Ben's Ford Edge. The garage door was open, Nas spilling out through the door, a familiar laugh greeted me.

                   A bright smile, Willa turned, her eyes connecting with mine and she pulled me into a hug almost immediately.

                   "Hi, babe!" It was shrill and oddly warm. "Jules is inside, you look so cute." She said when we parted, Pete now stepping through the door, with two plates and this concentrated look on his face.

                     "Thank you. Hey, bro."

                     "Hey."

                     "Who's birthday is it?"

                     "Oh, my cousin Ciara." Will filled in and the music was starting to make sense, also the fact that Willa was in this tiny little club dress, Ben didn't say anything? "She just turned twenty. Her and a few friends flew in from Dallas. There's mad food though and I'll-" dropping everything she was doing, Will grabbed my hand, "actually, I'll introduce you to everyone come on."

                   "Pablo-Luis this is my cousin Ciara."

Jules' place was a four story townhome, with an open floor plan, you enter on the first floor to hard wood and a bright white living room.

They combined Jules' earth tones and Ben's need for minimalism and modernism and it couldn't have worked better. One of my pieces hung over the couch right above this really pretty girl with curly hair and this hot pink dress.

Her eyes were wide and she was pointing above her. I remembered how much I hated this piece, Jules was adamant on saving the work I wasn't fond of. I swore I threw it out only to find it two months later taking up space in his father's garage.

I'd never been more in love with him.

"Happy birthday, you're so pretty."

Her voice was soft and words were giddy. "Thank you, boo." Ben entered from the kitchen to dap me up.

"P! Like the piece there?" He asked, motioning to the wall and they must've just hung it. I nodded. "I think it opens up the space pretty well."

"Yeah, thanks, Ben."

                Ben's hand clasped over my shoulder, he motioned to the two other people on the couch, "this is Naija, and Kwe."

Naija was this really pretty darkskin girl with a pixie cut and a mint green two-piece. I wondered where they were going. Naija was a mind-reader. "We have reservations at Lila's."

Lila's was this rooftop hookah-lounge downtown. The perfect spot for the spring colors they were sporting too, the rooftop was this incased dome with flowers bursting out the seams. It felt like a garden.

Kwe was this guy, he stood to greet me and towered over. If he wasn't tall enough, his hair made him even taller, he donned long limbs with these floral slacks and a button up.

There were about fifteen more people in the room so I was grateful when Ben noticed my awkwardness.

"Jules is upstairs."

Almost instantly, Naija's voice rang out. "He's the boyfriend?"

And the comments followed me up the stairs. Ben laughed. "The ex."

"Husband." Pete corrected. Thanks bro.

Will giggled. "Literally."

Naija's voice was softer and the laughter that ensued after her, "Why are the cute ones always dating each other?" was warranted.

: : :

                The Smiths was playing. The Smiths. When I rounded the corner, his door ajar, he was head bobbing and dancing so free. And he was rolling a joint in some old worn jeans and a plain white crewneck sweatshirt, his hair wild and... he looked so free.

                I wasn't sure if he was cutting it to keep it at such a perfect length or if the universe was just looking out for him cause it looked almost layered and so beachy.

                And Jules was humming along, stumbling over some shoes when he'd seen me. He smiled, looked at me through his veil of caramel locks. "Hi, baby."

                 He was licking the joint now, folding it over. When that was over, he admired it for a short second, nodding to himself and tucked it behind his ear. He turned around, facing his sound system. Tugging his hair off his neck and shoulders and tying it up in a bun.

                And those jeans fit him so nice.

               "Hi." I coughed out after too long a second, busying myself by shrugging off my jacket. I was left in this thin, striped long-sleeve tee, arms a bit too long and tucked over my wrists. I should've worn thermal. "You just been sitting up here?"

                "Not all night, I just need a breath sometimes." And it was transitioning into some Harry Styles song I'd never heard, it so hoppy, like 70s rock-pop-euphoria. He danced closer to me, kissing my lips so gently.

                 "You're in a good mood."

                 "I'm literally on drugs." He joked.

                  "Will's rolling. I was gonna go down and smoke with them in a few if you don't mind."

"That's okay," I was probably supposed to be upset but all I could do was focus on him and that little shuffle he was doing in his slippers.

"Yeah?"

Walking over to him, I rested my hands in his shoulders and brushed them off. Lanny used to do that, with every stressful event, he would brush some imaginary dust off of us and it never failed to relieve the pressure. "Are you anxious?"

Jules nodded and my hands moved up to his neck, clasping around the back. "A little, it's not too bad." His head lulled back, "I think it's just a lot of people, I don't know." I could feel cold hands under my shirt, on my waist, a chill ran up my spine.

"I've been doing good it just felt like a lot of attention and I guess I got nervous." He smiled, it soft. "Gimme kiss." Eyes closed, lips puckered, freckles all over.

I couldn't help it.

Jules was pulling away then, hands pressed into my cheeks and he kissed my face. My forehead, lips, chin, my squished cheeks and eyelids. Butterflies.

Butterfly kisses and i could feel myself grinning when he pulled away. My eyes felt impossibly heavy when I blinked them open and he was so far now even if it only felt like five feet. "You mind if I..."

And he was holding up his joint, biting his lip in that Jules way, eyes widening.

"It's okay."

spark. He always smokes inside, perks of being a homeowner, I guess. He held a hand around his joint, blocking it from the fan and sparked up, inhaling and when he let the smoke dissipate, he sucked it back in and there was something so hot about how he looked completely in control. "Where were you?"

"I went to the bar." Jules nodded, like he accepted that answer. That trust he gave me made me spill. "I had a fake beer and then talked to Carlos about you..."

His laugh wasn't expected but it was welcomed. That fear in my belly faded, I was wondering what that feeling was on the way over, now, I felt so calm. "Why?"

                "They were just going out after this thing at the gallery and it's jazz night at Expo." His brows knitted together and I held my hands up in defense. "Completely sober." I actually need to hit that post-conversation. Yeah, both.

            "It's okay if you talk to him, I trust you." He shrugged.

           "Okay."

            But he was grabbing for his phone now, tucking it into his pocket and tossing a puffer jacket over his sweatshirt. Fuck. "Can I actually come with you?"

            He looked at me then with that smile and he was tugging a beanie over his hair. "Yeah." Almost immediately, Jules was searching through his closet and his mood felt almost too good.

            He was still bouncing on his toes.

           "You're still adjusting to your new meds?"

           "Pablo, I'm fine." He responded.

           And when he found what he was looking for, he walked closer, kissing my forehead. He was holding up two hoodies for me, both in jewel tones. Jules was so adamant about these colors on me, huh?

           "I'm not cold." I tried, I don't really know why, I was extremely fucking cold.

            Jules frowned. "C'mon. You're gonna get sick." He was picking the purple one, rolling the collar and tucking it over my head for me. "Baby, it's cold outside."

            "Lame."

            "I thought it was cute." It was. "Just put on the hoodie."

: : :

                    April 4th, Julian picked me up from campus. It was nearing finals, campus was dead, pasted on every flat surface were flyers for group therapy and old post-it's for seasonal depression. I liked the cold, despite the burrowing, it felt nice to start anew.

                  Jules stepped out of the car in an ugly sweater layered over a crewneck t-shirt, some Levis and Adidas slides over socks. Dragging forward a portfolio bag, the weight of it was finally getting to me and my headphones felt much too warm over my ears. My nose was ice cold. Julian, seeing me, hopped out of the car with a bright smile on his face and kissed me hello.

                It was short and sweet.

                I mean, we weren't kissing...  so often but  he drove 30 minutes and there was traffic. He'd been super considerate in picking me up. Really, this was a 'because it's getting cold' kiss, a 'he knows I walk home and wanted to put me at ease after a long day' kiss. He deserved two more really and I was feeling generous. He grabbed for the bag in my hand, leaving me with a tote bag, he kissed my forehead.

I was gonna overdose on affection.

                He circled the car, maybe he could sense my discomfort due to the weather and my sluggishness but he made me laugh when he smacked my hand away from the door, offended almost. He tucked the portfolio into his back seat.

                Maybe there was sense in kissing a bit more. My entire face felt warm. His keys as usual, are sitting in the cup holder. Jules was always so careless with things like that. I thought back to Malibu.

             I couldn't hear him. Folding in my headphones, I slid them into my bag.

              Jules turned to me once he rounded his little red Ford Fusion. He sat. Didn't start the car, he just turned and looked at me. "How was your day?"

               Boring. But he'd already made it better. "Good, how about you?"

               "Boring."

                I felt myself laughing, a strong smile and the way he looked at me then held confusion. I didn't offer explanation, grabbing for the aux cord and going to play a playlist I'd been shuffling through all day. It felt like we were back in our bubble.

                Kicking off my shoes, I tucked my feet up in the seat.

                 Julian bit his lip, he'd been doing that so much. I wasn't sure if he were trying to drive me insane but it was working and I felt my arms lifting over my head, stretching.

                 Those eyes had me.

                 "I got us a room."

                  Just like that.

                  He smiled small. "At The Mallory." And he was biting that bottom lip so much that the train of thought where he was literally a fucking mind reader went out the window.

                Please never leave me again.

                "Jules..."

                He shook his head, like he knew I'd say no. "We're gonna have a vacation. You need it." That was dreamy. The way he looked up at my forehead, smoothing his thumb over my furrowed brow was too.

                "I have assignments."

                 "It's one night." He rebutted. When I didn't look convinced, he pouted. "They have a sauna." And two hotel bars. I could tell he tried not to make that apart of this decision. I hoped he trusted me, more than I trusted myself, really.

                  "We can get dinner, and massages. There's an indoor pool." He was grabbing for my hand and now that he had it, I knew I was done for. "Tomorrow you can lock yourself away in your tower and paint the walls. I will not disturb you."

                  "—I can get two beds if you're—"

                  "Jules." My heart warmed peaking through soft spots. Withdrawal from his touch was perpetually cold. Jules kinda made me feel like the end of September.

                    "You didn't have to do that." I could cry.

                 "It's scientifically proven that rest is more beneficial than cramming before an important test."

                   "It's art school." I laughed. Something in me felt bad when his brows furrowed, I couldn't even imagine how stressed he was during his finals. "My finals are set builds, and oil paintings... I'm doing a triptych because the exhibit needs material too."

                    "It's quality over quantity so I consolidated to six pieces— three have to be done for my final but once that's over, I'll have half of the collection."

                  "And you have... two and a half?"

                  "Really like one, a half and some sketches."

                   "That's still half.. you can always work on it more after your finals." Somehow, that math made me feel better. "And then you'll be halfway done with your show." Jules looked so proud of himself.  "How many pieces do the other artists have?"

                   "Benny's giving them this collection he did years back, Carlos has been moving it in all week, it's gonna be a permanent fixture in the museum."

"Wow." I didn't know what that was supposed to mean but he continued on, basically making excuses for me procrastinating. "Everybody else is... expanding on something old?"

"Well, yeah."

           "You— You've got cómo se dice... cojones..." Fuck.

          " Si, si. Bien." He was fucking beaming, "good tone."

          "Really?" And that was the validation he'd been craving cause Jules was over-explaining and I never thought I'd be so cringed out by him. "Thank you, uh, Danny's Cuban, he put me on to some shows. Why is Spanish Netflix so much better? Anyways I'm not just staring at the subtitles. Like I cant speak it, but it makes it easier to understand Spanish when I like- when I watch the shows... um- anyways."

            Fuck he's so cute when he rambles. "You're so white."

            "It sounded super dim when I was saying it." He was scrunching his nose and we were both laughing. "Tendrás mucho.. talento?" — Will you have a lot of talent... ?

              Huh? "Eh, Más como..." No. Um? What was he trying to say? "Eh... you are... Eres muy talentoso but you're really the star. I'm just bueno pintando cuadros bonitos." Good at painting pretty pictures. Good at falling for that glint in his eye.

             Eres lo más hermoso que he visto.

             Jules must've got the gist. "You're brilliant. Stop being so worried when you're literally the one to beat."

             Okay, maybe de-stressing was necessary. How could I say no to him? "Let's get dinner— what are you in the mood for?"

            "There's a restaurant in the hotel. Reservations are at six."

              Jules had an outfit in mind for me and quickly assembled it when we'd gotten back to mine. He'd put me in these dark wash straight leg trousers I hadn't worn since last Christmas and a cream sweater with a crest.

               Gold jewelry and some square toed tan boots. These were cool.

Jules watched me as I played with the sleeves.

I admired myself in the mirror long enough, the pants made my legs look long, the sweater cut just at the bottom of my waist right where these pinstripe pants started.

It felt like right before Christmas, if that made sense just cool enough for the first day of fall, living with filmmakers taught me that neutral tones like this looked good on me. The lines felt almost intentionally architectural, my legs looked long. The square at the toe made it more modern, even the way he told me to do my hair was perfect.

He had a vision.

My shoulders looked bigger with the sweater's cut.

I would let Jules style me everyday if I could always feel like a Christmas party Clark Kent.

There wasn't a specific style I could pinpoint with him these days but every outfit he'd fit in looked effortless. "You're good at styling."

"I just put things together."

"Yeah, but look how good my butt looks." Smack. Jules laughed when I jumped.

"The material is merely a frame." That's cute.

"Where'd you get your jeans?"

He was wearing some washed out denim jeans and dark brown cowboy boots and a black sweater. Sandy brown hair was resting on his shoulders and curling at the ends, a dirty blonde intermixed.

Freckles dotted a rosy face and, bushy brows intensified an already misty stare with long lashes. His lips, the Cupid's bow arched high to show a gap between his two front teeth and a freckle sat on the upper left corner.

He looked at me through thick lashes. And when he'd looked back at himself in the mirror, I watched him step to his toes, lips parted a light in his eyes.

Jules was wide-eyed.

"You like 'em? I got them at some thrift store in Long Beach for like 5 bucks."

"Our reservations are in twenty minutes. I've already packed you some clothes and trunks—" he sounded like someone's mom, "just get your toothbrush, you don't need anything else." This time he was stepping into the bathroom behind me.

When I turned around to look him in the eye, he fell half a step back. And Jules was always so good at that doe-eyed look. I don't think he was aware of it. "You don't need anything else, Pabs."

"You sound like you're from Wisconsin when you call me that."

He giggled. Actually fucking giggled then. He bit his lip, hip jutted and resting against the door frame, Jules was smiling so bright it reached his eyes.

My heart skipped a beat.

"Would you rather I call you PJ?"

"PJ." Why had I never thought of that before? I motioned between us and Jules' eyes blew as wide as mine. And we were half a step away but it still felt so intimate. "Hey! PJ." We're PJ. I'm PJ Martinez, and Jules and I were PJ, I mean, how much more obvious could it be?

"I like that." He bit his lip. "Ok, PJ." And it felt so right. He was pulling the materials I had mindlessly picked up, from my fingertips, before I realized. "You don't need an entire canvas. It's one night."

I couldn't help it, he was in my arms in seconds. The paint tubes and my charcoal pouch were lodged between us, his green eyes wide for just a second, and then terror Jules looked down almost immediately. "How are you so perfect?"

He was turning in my arms, putting all the miscellaneous items on the sink.

Kissing his forehead, I wasn't sure who pulled away first but he was tugging my hand back into him. He placed a kiss on my lips.

"Nowhere near perfect."

"Dejé de caminar cuando te vi por primera vez."

His eyes were doing that melty thing. "Ok— still not fluent."

"Oops."

"Oops." He mocked. "Wear your brown leather jacket."

A/N::
yeah sorry got waaaay too lazy to indent.
Happy holidays, love you babies. xoxo

What's one thing 2022 taught you? I wanna learn too...