it feels like being locked in a steaming sauna the first time you see him. his eyes are gentle and sloping, the colour of black coffee with just a little spoonful of cream added, and they are happy. the happiest eyes you have ever seen, and they graze your jawline, take in the nervous bobbing in your throat. his gaze is like a salve for your skin, and yet it’s hard not to notice the way his lashes seem to flutter when you catch him staring. he’s nervous too.

 

you stood and smiled gently when his dark eyes flickered to the linoleum floor, a pinkness climbing up his neck like creeping ivy. the silence weighed heavy on the warm spring air around you, punctuated only by the click of cashiers and the busy hum associated with large convenience stores. 

 

“so…whatcha called?”

 

he just came to buy a packet of gum. it was none of your business, asking his name, but it just slipped out. honestly, sitting behind a cashier all day was boring, and it wasn’t every day somebody like him came in. he didn’t answer when you asked, instead carefully counting out coins in the palm of his hand, the corners of his lips upturned, whispering. it was only after you leant forward slightly on your toes, eyes fixated upon the crown of his head, that he bore his heart-shaped face once more.

 

“i’m joshua. uhm..josh. i’m josh.”

 

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joshua | JAW-shwə | hebrew

 

yahweh is salvation 

 

• used to describe ecstasy “she had never truly seen constellations under her eyelids until joshua had kissed them goodnight” 
• used informally when detailing the sweetest quirks “that’s such a joshua thing to do”
• the name of the boy who visited again when the air smelt of jasmine

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you remembered him mostly as a series of snapshots, of fleeting glances and the brush of fingertips, of the way he sighed hopelessly every time he picked up his gum to leave. you sighed too, though never quite as loudly as he did, air whistling past his parted lips. you’d gotten to know each other a little better since the first occasion, sharing birthdays and hometowns and favourite colours. december 30th, los angeles and blue.

 

and yet it felt as if the two of you were suspended in time and space on strings, unable to reach far enough to touch the other, the string twanging unpleasantly every time your fingers dared to stretch for the papery skin of his wrist, just to check that his heart was beating as fast as yours. it was like being in some god forsaken marionette show.

 

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we should just kiss like real people do

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it was only in the summer months that something began to blossom. with the scent of jasmine and the dry heat came roaming minds and rambling. he would ask you out on the day when your eyes stung from lack of sleep for thinking of the ways it could start, how you could summon the courage to tell him you thought about his soft cheek pressed against yours, his eyelashes tickling your temple. or how you wanted to run your fingers along the slope of his nose and talk about how scared you are of heights. 

 

 

he’d interrupted your daily reverie with his daily sigh, except this time, when you looked up to murmur a wistful goodbye, you noticed the way he cradled his cellphone in the palm of his hand, staring expectantly.

 

“y’know, i’ve been thinking.” he suddenly blurted before heaving another sigh, heavier, more irritated than the one which came before. you nodded slowly, a confused expression coming over your features, nose scrunched up in concern. his paused, blinking down at his phone, his mouth twitching in an attempt to find the perfect words.

 

“do you wanna like, go out sometime?” the sheer relief etched into those eyes as he exhaled was enough to make you look away, the corners of your lips upturned, a giggle humming against your teeth. you’d waited far too long for this to not enjoy the way his hands slid across the counter towards you, and the women in line to be served looked on knowingly.

 

when you finally met his gaze, heart beating arrhythmically, reminiscent of that first day you met, it would have been difficult to say with certainty that you were not falling in love. it was a gentle descent, fingertips hushing lips, twitching limbs, hushed whispers. he was all you had ever wanted. 

 

so now, staring into those eyes, all supernovas and burning stars plunged into earthy darkness, it was as though nothing else mattered but a single syllable.

 

“yes. of course. obviously, i mean, come on, like i was gonna say no, joshua?” 

 

despite the insightful and poetic monologue you had prepared in the depths of your brain for this very occasion, this is what slipped from your tongue, eyes wide, tip toes. he laughed, ducking his head in that way that he does in an attempt to regain composure. but your wide grin matches his now, and that’s really all that matters.

 

“you mean it?”

 

“yeah, i mean it.”

 

“that’s great.”

 

“pick me up at eight huh?”

 

“sure, yeah. wait, i don’t have your number.”

 

he handed his cellphone to you now, spare hand tugging on a dark lock of hair as he did. you swiftly went to work, digits shaking only slightly when you returned the device, chewing on your bottom lip. he’d been thinking hard of something to say while you typed. not that you could see, you were too concerned with double checking and triple checking your number was correct. but the expression of pride laid plain across his face was enough to tell you that he had something to say.

 

“you look beautiful today, by the way. you always do.” 

 

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now playing 

 

american - lana del rey

 

fin