Romance Short Story

The Community
Harris buried his head in his letterman jacket and walked quickly into the blustering wind. Brown papery leaves danced toward his broad shoulders, spinning and leaping higher into the dusty gray sky. As he stared down at his red Jordan 1’s, tears rolled off his face and bounced off his shoes as memories of his father surfaced. His father. How long had it been since Harris had seen him? He remembered last Christmas when he was with his family, where he was presented with the exact Jordans he was wearing. I’m so stupid for crying, I can’t do anything about it, thought Harris as he jogged the last few feet to the gate. The wind brushed the tears from his cheeks. His palms easily encased the withered metal.
“Laurence!” he whispered into the wind. No one can hear me, he thought sharply to himself. “Laurence!” he yelled, cringing at the cracks in his unused voice.
“Come find me!” echoed from somewhere in the cemetery. He pushed open the gate and stepped in. Harris’ eyes walked along the edge of the brick wall sealing in the dead.
“Laurence! Please!” Harris hated the way he whined.
“Come find me!” Harris began searching slowly. Allowing his eyes to only sweep over the faces. He kept his mind blank, a stone wall holding back the lifetime of memories with these people, some of them his friends as walked between the rows. He stared at the bodies on the ground, at the boy covered in blood, his golden blonde hair falling loosely at his shoulders. His honeysuckle brown eyes narrowed as he stood up.
“You’re late.”
“And you are killing me with these games.” Harris licked his thumb and smudged the blood off Laurence’s face. “How has your day been, my lover?” A bush of roses bloomed under Laurence’s alabaster skin. Harris made a mental note to call Laurence his “lover” more often.
“Besides having to clean up Kaleb’s throw up again, having to make an entire green bean casserole, and then having trash duty and having to fix the air condition because Peyton can’t grasp basic electrical and would probably blow up the cafeteria if it wasn’t for me—pretty good.” Laurence kicked snow under his boot. Harris smiled, pulling his other hand out of the safety of his jacket to cup Laurence’s lower back, tugging him closer.
“It’s all for the greater good.” Laurence shivered at the husky wisp that flowed into his voice.
“Right.” Laurence’s eyes flicked back and forth between Harris’ deep brown eyes and his lips, before settling on just his lips. Harris leaned in, resting his forehead against Laurence’s as their mouths collided softly. After hours of back breaking work and only their thoughts to comfort and scare them, it wasn’t long before their kisses stung the cold sprites trying to escape their peeling lips.
In each other’s arms, they traveled. They traveled from the dying town they were trapped in to a beautiful tropical beach. They traveled away from disease, scheduled rations, death, labour, shared housing, fear and traveled to sandy beaches. Spending their day basking in the sun, cold beers in their hands. The constant lull of the waves playing in their ears instead of the usual cooking, picking up trash, and studying how to put in IVs. Instead of watching as their friends die.
“Hey! You two! The counsel is talking in the church in twenty minutes. Harris, Lu needs to talk with you beforehand,” called Derek from outside the cemetery. His rust colored skin complimenting his black leather jacket. Laurence remembered having to beg him to put his torn letterman jacket in the back of the closet in order for him to wear it. Harris dragged his hand from his cheek to his chest, buttoning up the top button on his shirt.
“Harris! Seriously, let’s go!” Derek rattled the gate violently.
“You got to go.” Laurence pushed Harris’s chest.
“Don’t make me.”
“I’ll see you in twenty minutes, go.”
“Harris!”
“Coming!” Harris’ shoes crunched under the thin layer of snow. The gate squealed as it closed behind him.

The church bell rang, signaling that the meeting would be starting in ten minutes. Laurence walked slowly, aligning his feet in Harris’s shoe prints. The bitter air stung his cheeks over and over until they burned red. The red brick building with white trim and glossy mahogany doors loomed Laurence. A wave of heat pounded him as he twisted the scrapped tacky gold knob and stepped into the mob of familiar faces whispering quietly and choosing spots based on their friend groups. He glanced up at Harris, who’s hair was dripping from the melted frost that clung to his curls, and took the first seat in the back. He liked to watch everyone’s reactions carefully. A tall and thin Asian girl, known as Lu, clapped the same tune most teachers do when trying to get their student’s attention. Flashbacks to all of the petty drama in school seemed almost foreign to him now, like seeing through someone else’s eyes.
“Attention!” The crowd quieted quickly. “Everyone, please. Um—thank you for being here. We have something to share with you.”
“Obviously!” Yelled a red hair kid named Lucas, who continued to use his highschool persona even in these trying times . Lu smiled, clearly restraining herself from walking off the stage to slap him, then flicked her head backward and followed the momentum to turn around.
“Harris?” Lu walked around the table to Harris and took a seat in a fold out chair. Laurence smiled reassuringly and squeezed his fists, his tell-tale sign that he was nervous. His posture straightened and he felt his brows knit together. Harris carefully removed a piece of paper tucked into his coat pocket. He took a deep breath.
“Life isn’t fair. That’s something that we know more than anyone. We don’t know how we all got here and we don’t know how we are going to get out, yet. Of course the council and I are working on that. Based on the past month’s events, I don’t know who I will have left if we make it out of here, and I don’t even know if I’ll make it out of here. But there is one thing I do know.” Laurence’s eyebrows relax and his posture shrinks slightly. “I do know that I am in love.”
Everyone in the church turned towards Laurence, a collective small gasp escaping a few mouths.
“And I don’t want to wait until we get our old lives back to do this.” Harris bent down on one knee, taking a velvet black box out from his letterman jacket. Laurence stands feeling like his knees will collapse below him.“Laurence Gidian Hayes, will you do me the honor and privilege of marrying me?”
The wind is knocked out of his lungs. The silence was loud. His heart hammered in his chest. His thoughts disappeared. His head broke the surface of the waves of shock and to that moment to utter the word.
“Yes.” Harris smiles. “Yes, I will marry you.”