a place we know| ✓

thirty seven

"And find a place where every single thing you see tells you to stay."
S E E K E R
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January 8th
12:10 AM
New York
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"Hold still, it's stuck but I'm trying to get it out."

"Be gentle. This shit hurts–ow! Baby, stop tugging."

"Sorry, sorry. I almost got it."

Audrey had enough of being careful. In one swift tug, she pulled the heart-shaped clip out of Gunner's hair and cringed at the hiss he emitted.

"I told you not to tug!" He clutched the back of his head and cursed colourfully under his breath. "I'm never playing princess with her ever again. It's slow torture."

"Now you're just being dramatic," Audrey's head hit the pillow and in seconds she was drained of her previous energy. The room was cold but the sheets were warm, paving the way for sleep as it came bustling alongside the wind from tonight's blizzard.

"It's just a hairpin," she held out the miniature object for him to see. "Perfectly harmless."

Gunner stopped running his fingers through his hair and caressed the nape of his neck, throwing her a glance that told him he was unimpressed by her answer. "Easy for you to say," he sighed. "You're a girl, it's like you were built for this shit. I don't know how you do it."

He walked towards the closed window, pushing the curtains aside. And ensnared by the winter chaos behind the glass, fell silent. Audrey shifted on her side, watching him mull over his thoughts like he had only started doing fairly recently. Sometimes he was alone and all she could do was just observe him as he reflected. She didn't know how to decode him the way he did her. Audrey realized there was plenty she didn't know about her boyfriend-turned-fiancé except for his involvement with Ace and drugs.

She stared at his shirtless back, giving ample concentration to every tattoo that decorated his white skin. There were symbols and words varying in sizes and length, and there were empty spaces in between, clear like the surface of a canvas ready to be used.

It was artwork. Gunner was artwork along with his beautiful body.

"The snow's nice," he said. "I never really looked at it like this since..."

He had mastered locking up his past in ways she never could. Audrey relived the years, Gunner buried them.

"Come to bed, it's getting late." She methodically rolled the hairclip between her fingers, feeling the cool plastic under her fingertips. "We can talk about it if you want to."

The curtain fell into place and Gunner swept around to gaze at her. He bore the eyes of one who was sapped yet contented. She ceased rolling the hairpin and exchanged a smile, but he still had that serious look on his face.

"I don't want to," his voice held the right amount of tenderness. "Stay up with me."

"Gunner, it's already past midnight and I have to get up early to take Leah to school. I need some sleep and so do you."

He walked over to the light switch and flicked it, plummeting them into darkness. Meandering to his side of the bed and peeling back the covers, he slipped in next to her, his calloused hand finding her soft skin and linking their fingers. Audrey liked the touch of his heat and the weight of his presence. Where her hand was smooth, his was blistered, and she had memorized each and every one of his scars that it came as naturally as breathing. He was cold but she could warm him.