Note: I’ve also added the emails Platt and Seb sent after Plebes No More as a comment to that story.
“Seb? Theo said you’ve been in here all day. How are you feeling?”
I look up at him with just my eyes. My head stays on my pillow, cheek mashed into it so it hides half my face. “Don’t know.”
Quint frowns and steps fully into the room. He sits on the edge of the bed. “No?”
Continue reading “Holding Pattern”
The aroma of freshly-ground coffee dragged Theo out of our bedroom at ten. I took a sip from the mug I had just filled, opened one of the files of papers spread across the dining table in front of me, and began cross-referencing to a spreadsheet I had pulled up on my laptop. “Good morning, angel. There are eggs in the fridge for your breakfast.”
He grunted. I watched him shuffle to the kitchen and pour himself coffee, but he made no move towards food.
Continue reading “The Morning After”
Zain described Herndon as “a bunch of sweaty, shirtless sailors climbing a giant lubed-up phallic symbol.” I had to admit he had a point, even if it’d made Theo choke on his orange juice and Quint’s eyebrow go sky high.
That breakfast was over a week ago, during the few days of intersessional leave he got between final exams and Sea Trials. We left to drop him off at the bus back to Annapolis right after.
Continue reading “Plebes No More”
Note: Takes place between Ceci n’est pas une Pipe and You Are the Moon That Pulls Me Through the Night.
Searching for Seb when I get home is a well-practiced ritual, yet sometimes it surprises even me where I find him. Or what I find him doing.
One day, a few months after the move to Hawaii, I walked up behind him in the back yard, frowning. Stacks and stacks of small, round paper cartons surrounded where he crouched at the edge of a raised plant bed that was mostly dirt. He was studying it intensely enough to not notice me. As I watched, he picked up one of the cartons from the top of a stack, removed the lid, carefully shook out more dirt on top of the other dirt, and then spread it ever so gently around. It kind of… wiggled.
Continue reading “The Early Bird Special”
Note: Takes place right after they first move to Hawaii.
My eyes were on Zain, not the house, as we pulled into the driveway. I’d sent him pictures, of course, but this was the first time he was seeing it in person. It fell on me to go house-hunting with my parents while he was deployed. I’d had only my gut instinct of his tastes to guide me.
He turned off the Jeep’s engine and sat back in his seat, taking in our new home. I couldn’t judge his expression.
Continue reading “Unmellow Yellow”
Ever since Seb moved in, I kept hearing giggling coming from his room in the mornings. Not every day, but often enough to be kinda odd. However—and I don’t know if you’ve noticed this—I am not a Morning Person™, so I’d just hear it, think who finds anything funny this early? and fall asleep again, and when I was properly awake I’d forget about it.
Continue reading “Doggy Yoga”
Note: Takes place shortly after To Trust, Cherish, and Honor.
Well I thought it was a brilliant idea. Still do, actually, though I have a feeling that’s going to be changing as soon as Quint calls me out of the corner. I spin my ring around my finger, something I can’t seem to stop doing since I began wearing it a couple of weeks ago.
“Theodore, put your hands by your sides,” Quint says from somewhere behind me—sounds like the stove, maybe. “You’re meant to be thinking about what you did.”
Continue reading “Wash & Fold”