Haven

Wrapping my hands around my cup of coffee, I continued reading the page of my book, glancing at Zephaniah so now and then. He was sitting across me at the table, writing things down in a notebook he had brought with him from home. Zephaniah had hot chocolate- Nina had made us warm drinks as the day had been colder.

That was one of the facts that was true about the Netherlands- the weather was unpredictable. The one moment the sun would be shining- seconds later you needed an umbrella because the rain would fall down like the British rainfalls we knew all too well.

As we had swum the other day- jackets had been needed this day and tomorrow as well, as Nina had said.

Zephaniah barely took sips, he was too focused on his writing. His eyebrows were furrowed, his tongue sometimes moving around his mouth in concentration. I wondered what he was writing, even if he had briefly explained me that he just wrote what he had done that day, so he didn't have to tell everything once he was home and his parents could simply read it.

I wanted to read it too.

Sipping my coffee, I tried to focus back on the words that were written on the page in front of me, though, my thoughts led me to Zephaniah instead. How he had shown his vulnerability after the House of Anne Frank. How his tears had expressed his soft and sensitivity sides due to the story of the young girl. How he experienced in intense feelings, like Dad had told me.

I liked that. I really liked that about him for some reasons. He was a guy who wasn't afraid of expressing his emotions, even if he shied away at times. Perhaps, it was his autism, which made him experience things differently of course, but it didn't matter to me. He was who he was, even if he didn't appreciate that person. His autism couldn't let him hide fully.

He had no masks, and that was probably the reason why people took advantage of the situation so easily, that was probably the reason why he took my interest so easily.

Zephaniah dropped his pen, dragging me back to reality. I watched him as he took a few sips, licking his upper lip after that. He glanced at me, he smiled a little when our eyes met.

I gave him a playful smile. "Hi."

"Hi." He chuckled, his eyes averting back to his notebook, his cheeks flushing pink.

I smiled, wondering why they flushed. "Is it any good?"

Zephaniah frowned lightly, looking at me in confusion. "What?"

I gestured to his mug. "The chocolate milk."

He hummed, licking his lips as he looked at it, cupping his hands around it. "It's good. Tastes different than home, but good. I mean the chocolate milk.. home does not taste like anything. I think I will shower soon. Do you think I have to ask Nina?" His eyebrows furrowed, his eyes were questionable.

"No, Zeph." I answered. "You don't have to ask her. The shower is specifically placed in our area. You can use it whenever you want." I shrugged slowly, he had asked me if it was okay to shower each time- he was still uncertain to it.

"Okay." He nodded, seeming thoughtful. "You didn't ask her too, right?"

"No, I didn't." I gave him a reassuring smile, watching him as he quietly shoved his chair away, standing up. He fiddled with his fingers, glanced at me and quickly finished his chocolate milk before placing the mug back down.

"I'm going to shower, okay?" Confirmation was still important for him, his parents had told me he had needed that ever since he was little.

"Okay, Zeph." I watched him walk away, hearing how he entered the guys' room. I smiled by myself, focused back on my book and tried to read- but I still couldn't focus, my eyes falling onto his notebook.

Would he be able to word out his thoughts a little better than he did while talking? Curiosity was getting ahead of me, but I didn't know if that was a right thing to happen. Playing with my fingers, I glanced at Norah and the other boys, who were watching television in the living room. The shower water started running, I stretched out my arm and reached for his notebook, my eyes falling on his rather neat handwriting.

I just wanted to know how he had experienced those days. He seemed to be okay, for as far as his autism had let him the past few days, but I wouldn't really know how he had truly felt throughout the trip.

Day 4, Amsterdam, trip with Uni.

Hi, Mum and Dad. It was a full day today. For my head, I mean. I woke up late, it stressed me out a little. Haven woke me, she said I slept through the alarm. Where's Coop when I need him? We ate something Dutch for breakfast it was like chocolate sprinkles on a sandwich. It was really good, why don't we have it? Too bad.. We went through the canals with a boat. Amsterdam is pretty, I cannot deny that. They threw a lot of information about it on me, but that I did not quite remember. Hope you don't mind that, sorry Mum and Dad. It was something about the history of the city or something. We had lunch in a park that was called Vondelpark. It smelled like weed, it's legal did you know? In Amsterdam. The smell is funny, I do not really like it. It made my lunch taste like it.

We went to the House of Anne Frank. You have the diary, right mama? I think you do. It was very moving. The house was big, but the secret annex was rather tight and there were a lot of stairs. My legs hurt at the end but it was good. I think it was worth it because we live in peace but she lived in war. We can only imagine. I was emotional at the end, stupid, right? But it felt as if I was there. Beside Anne, in the war, I mean. My life isn't long as hard as hers compared, but comparing isn't needed right, daddy.

Haven comforted me. Baba, Mama, she has made me feel at ease a lot. Haven really likes Amsterdam, she says it's her fascination. I believe it, she's really chatty and says so many things about it. Sometimes it goes too fast so I don't save all the information of Amsterdam but when she tells me things about where we're going it makes me feel better. She gives me like.. like this imagination that is sorta right already. Know what I mean? Like.. when I imagine the new place I will be going to without knowing at least a little information it will always turn out completely different.

I don't like that, it makes me frustrated. But when Haven tells me stuff, I make an imagination that is close to the truth. She helps me feel comfortable here. The city smells different than home. It feels different too, the language is quite funny but I cannot make out a single word. Did you know maan means moon in Dutch? Haven told me.

Haven helps me a lot, mama and baba. I feel so relieved. I miss Cooper a lot, especially when I'm sleeping because I have to sleep with the guys. I wish I could sleep in Haven's room because she makes me feel at ease but apparently that is not socially accepted because she's a girl and I'm a guy.

Mama, I searched up the meaning of your name. Hannah means God is gracious, is beautiful, right? Daddy, your name means beauty, grace. Fits together, it does, right? Haven's name means safety, a place of shelter. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?

Daddy when we were younger we watched the geese fly off, remember? I asked you, daddy why do the geese fly away. Won't the babies stay with their mum and dad? You said no Zeph, babies grow up and one day, the babies will fly away, on their own. They will take care of themselves. It is like that with human too, Zeph. One day kids will be adults, and they will leave their homes to start one up without their parents, alone or with a partner.

I cuddled closer to you, I was sad. I didn't want to leave you, ever, Dad. How could I? I was so depended on you and Mum eventually. It made me anxious. I wanted to cry. Didn't the birds feel sad for flying away from home? I couldn't imagine flying off myself once.

It scared me a lot. Honestly, it still scares me. I know I'm already nineteen, the time is ticking, isn't it? Soon it will be time for me to fly off from home and do things myself. I don't think I'm ready for that yet. What am I without you daddy? Without you mummy? Without Cooper?

Will my autism let me? My epilepsy?

Haven means safety, it means a place of shelter. Haven makes her name true, okay. I find safety in her, I don't exactly know how or why or when it did happen. You said it happens naturally, Dad, right? With mummy and all. It's a good thing, I think. Somehow?

I don't know how to word it. What's the point, you must think, of this all. Well, if I'm flying off one day, I would've wanted Cooper to come with me. I'd survive, but Coop.. well. I know he'll be gone soon. I don't want to think about it, it hurts a lot.

But if I would be allowed to fly off with someone like Haven, maybe I would survive? I never thought I would find someone like her but I did. God is gracious, right mama. He gave me her. Your names all fit in my story.

If I can fly off with someone like her, maybe Haven herself, I know I would be fine, maybe not right away but eventually. God is gracious, beauty, grace. He gave me a place of shelter.

I don't know what it feels like to like a girl. I don't know if I have given it much thought before. Did we ever talk about it, Dad? I'm not quite sure. Is it that when you wake up, she's the first person to pop up? The last person to be on your thoughts when you go to sleep? When something happens, you want that person to be the first one to hear it? I had gotten a physical reaction when I thought about her last night. It scared me to death, it never happened that way before. It's okay, right, dad? You said it would be fine for as long as your thoughts would stay respectful when it came to the girl. I quickly thought of when Coop dug into the grass, the blades flying in the air and landing on my head.

Do you remember that, I almost peed my pants from laughing.

I miss you Baba. I miss you Mama. I miss Cooper. Few days and I'll be home. Hugs, Zeph.

Shoving his notebook away when I was done reading, my mind was speechless for a while, or was that supposed to be called wordless? I didn't really know- but my cheeks were flustered by some of the words he had written.

My heart felt warm, extremely warm. He thought of me as a place of shelter? He found safety in me? He thought about me when he went to sleep and when he woke up? He had a what kind of reaction while thinking about me? He wanted to fly off with me when the time was ready?

With a person like you, Have. Not you.

Sighing, I ran my fingers through my hair, thinking about his words again. Did he like me? How did he experience all of that through his autism? Swallowing, I wished I hadn't read all of that because my mind was racing with thoughts, clouding it completely. At the same time I was happy I did read it- I knew a little of how he thought about me and wasn't that what I had wanted, after all?

Standing up, I decided to simply go to bed. I didn't want to ruin the night by overthinking and getting my hopes up. He needed to tell me, until then I wouldn't make assumptions. What did I truly know of the world he lived in, after all?

Dressing into my night shorts and oversized shirt, I walked over to the bathroom to brush my teeth, noticing Zephaniah was brushing his teeth as well. His hair was dampened, flat hair stuck to his forehead. He wore his Nike shorts, his oversized sleep sweatshirt on top of that. His left shoulder was exposed, he was staring into the distance as he kept brushing his teeth.

"Zepho!" I smiled, trying to push my extremely confused thoughts away.

Zephaniah blinked his eyes a little faster, glancing at me through the mirror. He smiled, a bit of toothpaste seeping down his chin. He gulped, wiped it off and continued brushing, not really looking at himself through the mirror.

"Was that your nickname when you were little?" I wondered, wetting my toothbrush before adding some toothpaste onto it.

Zephaniah frowned, spit out his toothpaste and flapped his hands a little. "Haven." He groaned, shaking his head. "First toothpaste, then water."

"Why?" I chuckled a little, feeling amused.

"Cause you need to wet the toothpaste too?" His expression was uncertain, toothpaste foam was still collected at the corner of his mouth, left side to be precise.

"But my toothbrush was wet, so basically it is wet, but at the bottom." I frowned at myself, wondering when my mind went that deep about a toothbrush and toothpaste.

Zephaniah licked the corners of his mouth, staring at it with an uncertain expression. "It needs to be wet on top. And you took the minty, it's too rough for your mouth."

"What toothpaste do you have, then?" I wondered. Would it have to do something with his sensory issues?

He pointed at it, his expression a little unsure. "Herbs? Is good, here try." He carefully took my toothbrush out of my hand, rinsed off the toothpaste and added his own, adding water after it. I wondered if he did it because his mind would be calmer that way, or if he truly wanted me to taste his toothpaste.

Either way, we both started brushing again, glancing through the mirror so now and then. His eyes would squint- he'd smile but look away moments after, his cheeks rosy. For the first time in years, it made me feel rather shy too, knowing the way he, sort of, thought of me now.

Once we were both done, I looked at him through the mirror again. "Is Zepho your nickname? Was it your nickname when you were little?" I asked, realising he hadn't answered still.

"Noo." Zephaniah answered, looking down as a smile crept upon his face. "No one ever called me that before. My nickname was Zephy." He rolled his eyes, it made me laugh softly- I was amused.

"Zephy. That sounds cute, seriously." I chuckled, suddenly picturing tiny Zephaniah walking around.

"What yours?" He answered quietly, curiously looking at me for a brief moment.

"Bee." I laughed a little, his curious eyes pushing me further to elaborate it. "They haven't called me that in years, though. But once we had this musical at primary school and it was about insects and all and I just really wanted to be a bee. They didn't have any costumes for bees but apparently I had cried so much when I came home that my mum made a bee costume herself. Also, I was really fond of honey. I don't like it as much now, though. Yeah, they called me bee because of that only."

"Bee." Zephaniah hummed, laughing a little. "Cute."

"Yeah." My laughter died, it turning to a smile instead.

Zephaniah started flapping his hands, his eyes blinked a little faster but when he stared at himself through the mirror, he stopped immediately. Looking away, he flapped them again, his eyes strongly focused on them. I wondered why he was flapping them at the moment, but didn't mention anything about it.

"Sorry." Zephaniah said, his eyes still blinking. "Many feelings at the moment. Buzz buzz, I guess?" He lifted the mood for himself by turning the flapping of his hands due to overwhelming emotions to an imitation of a bee.

My heart warmed, again. I couldn't deny it anymore. "Buzz buzz, it is, Zeph." I chuckled, copying his flapping hands.

Yeah, I liked Zephaniah. The only thing that bothered me was that I had no idea of how to make that clear to him.

~~~

The cutest!!

Thoughts of Zephaniah being so expressive in writing? Towards his parents?

What he said about Haven?

Let me know your thoughts! Feedback, votes and comments much much appreciated ❤️❤️

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