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“We are past all of that. There is no such thing as a bad question between us,” he said. “And… god… let me think. I’m trying to remember. Oh! Here’s a good one!”
My fingers pressed the okay button, and a bunch of creepy clowns came up on the screen.
“Killer Klowns from Outer Space?” I asked, reading the title. I was also still waiting for his answer about the last movie he watched.
“Killer Klowns from goddamn Outer Space,” he said.
The pressure around my fingers loosened. Jamie dropped to the floor, sitting next to me on the blanket, and rested against his hands which he crossed behind, cradling his head.
“Top Gun,” he said, looking at me now with an amused smile. Laughter rippled from him, slowly at first, then so loud he laughed above the “Killer” clowns on the TV. He rolled over next to me, curled in a ball, body shaking from his hysterics. “I’m… s-sorry… I just found it hilarious. That it was goddamn fucking Top Gun.”
“Your last movie?” I asked, a big, opened mouthed smile covering my face.
“Top fucking Gun. You know, the movie that keeps cutting to Take My Breath Away? The movie with a million sunsets?” he asked. “THAT FUCKING MOVIE! That. Movie. Was. My. Last. Movie. I. Ever. Watched.”
“I feel sorry for you,” I said, lightly hitting my hand against his arm. I was very familiar with Top Gun. I’d actually watched that with Jamie a couple of times back at Stony Point. Not a bad movie. Just not exactly the kind of movie you wanted to, you know, have as the last movie you ever watched before you died.
“I know what you mean,” he said. “Hell. I guess it could be worse.”
“Yeah. Killer Klowns from Outer Space could’ve been your last movie, dude.”
Jamie slowly moved his hands away from his face and narrowed his eyes, mouth puckered into a tight smile. “What’s wrong with Killer Klowns?”
“What isn’t wrong with Killer Klowns, Jamie?”
As if on command, one of the “Klowns” in the movie started laughing maniacally. In the creepiest, only-possible-for-a-clown kind of way. The clown’s eyes narrowed as it laughed, and I turned away, unable to watch.
I never fucking realized before how scared I am of clowns.
“I forgot how disturbing these fucking clowns were,” Jamie said. He wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me into him, my face covered by his chest. A tingle shot down my face and all the way through my body to my legs. He added, softly, “Now you don’t have to watch.”
“Oh, is that why you decided on the clowns, Jamie? Smooth. Real smooth.”
“Maybe.” He pressed his forehead against mine and nuzzled my nose with his. “Maybe it is.”
My voice grew soft. “Well, then maybe I’m not mad we put on the Killer Klowns.”
He pressed his lips to mine, my mouth vibrating against his touch. Ever so gently, he kissed me a second time, our lips sticking for a moment as he pulled back.
“Last song you listened to?” I whispered.
“Hmm. Another thing I need to think on.” He kissed me a third time, this time holding his lips over mine. His hands navigated up to the sides of my face, warmth rushing across my skin. I inhaled through my nose, feeling so much love on the exhale, being here with him. There was something about laying in his arms, with the TV running in the background, that brought such a sense of peace to my soul.
“Tomorrow… I can help you build the furniture,” he said. “If you want me to, that is.”
I instantly thought of the other two boxes—full of the parts for the entertainment unit and the desk which needed to be assembled—and remembered I’d left them in the kitchen next to the makeshift cardboard box seat.
“Yeah, I’d like that.” I kissed him this time. As my lips fell over his, his eyes fluttered shut. His breathing more even than had been before. Then, it dawned on me. “Jamie. Why do you still breathe?”
“I don’t,” he said, planting another quick kiss against my lips. I let out a deeper breath after we parted, quickly reaching back and smacking my mouth over his, overcome with desire.
“So… why…” I started to say, our lips finding each other over and over again now.
“Force of habit,” he said, his fingers attempting to play with the buttons on my shirt. Though, as he tried, his fingers penetrated the cloth and touched my bare chest. Reminding me of what he had said in the beginning about not being able to touch my clothing or anything but my bare skin. As his fingers touched my chest, he stopped. “God… I can’t…”
“It’s okay,” I murmured. “I know you’re leaving. That doesn’t make me want to stop.”
“Right, but…”
