**CONTENT WARNING/TRIGGER WARNING** Non-graphic sex scene. Alcoholism, depression. Reader discretion is advised.

Confessing this is intimidating

These words will never see the light of day

Don't try to sleep through the fear

This is so invigorating

I cannot keep these feelings away

My eyes cannot stop their peer

Into your beautiful soul

I swear to you that I'm yours

These words hold everything

My love for you ignited like coal

I look but everything blurs

If you left it would do nothing but sting

These are the ruminations of the heart

Yeah, these are the ruminations of the heart

--From the song Ruminations Of The Heart

Lyrics by Orion Bauwens

After I confirmed like, a billion times that, yes, the young woman they picked up was for sure my stalker and yes, she was in custody and would be far, far away from me, I grabbed the first flight back to Vermont I could manage. I was absolutely, positively ecstatic. You'd think I wasn't who I was and I'd just won the lottery.

I could not wait to get home. I could not wait to sleep in my own bed. I could not wait to see Jake and Ben.

But most of all? I could not wait for Tristan.

I invited him over. He had decided to go back to Texas until all this blew over. So when he shows up on my doorstep, freshly tanned and looking refreshed, I can't help myself. I throw myself into his arms and kiss him. Nosy neighbors and any paparazzi that might be hanging around be damned-I need to kiss my boyfriend.

Once that's done we retreat to my room. I'm unpacking as Tristan lays on the bed, listening to me as I talk.

"So then what happened?"

"Well," I say, gingerly putting my baby onto its stand, "we got into a bit of a squabble. She was happy that they caught my stalker, but she was still upset that I offered for her to join the band and then took it back."

"She has to understand that it's a really bad idea," Tristan said gently.

I scoff a bit and shake my head. "I forgot how hard it is to be that young..."

Tristan raises a questioning eyebrow. I stop my unpacking and come over to him, sitting.

"Just-you think you're so old," I say. "You think you have the world figured out. You think you don't need anyone telling you what to do. But the reality is-no. You're still just a fucking kid."

There was a long pause, and then he spoke carefully. "I think a lot of it has to do with life experiences as well. Maturity doesn't necessarily have to be tied to age."

Intrigued, I stare at him.

"I mean, back when I was sixteen I thought I knew everything."

I can't help but laugh. "'Back when you were sixteen'? Tristan, that was two years ago for you, buddy."

He chose to ignore my comment. "Then some stuff happened, and now I feel like I do know everything. Some people just have old souls, yaknow? They're either born with it, or something happens and ages them."

"Right," I replied with a scoff and a chuckle, going back to unpacking. "Are you saying you're an old soul?"

He looks off to the side. "I'm just sayin' a lot can happen in two years."

His sudden shift in demeanor startled me. I move closer to him, putting my hand on his cheek. "Are you okay?"

He slips into his usual grin. "Yeah, 'course."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm here with you-why wouldn't I be okay?"

That makes me smile. He sits up and ruffles my hair. "Done unpacking?"

"Uh...I think so, yeah!" I zip up my suitcase and slide it under my bed. "What do you want to do?"

Tristan shrugs and then laces his fingers with my own. "Spend time with you..."

I'm smiling again. God, how can being with someone make you feel so damn good? It's like every time I'm with him I'm a chalkboard, and he's an eraser, and he just wipes all the shit away. I can be a clean slate with him-I know I can be. I only wonder what I can do for him...

So I give a little piece of myself to him. I grab his other hand, tugging him off the bed, a grin on my face. I lead him over to my computer that sits in the corner of the room. Immediately I sit and turn it on.

"Pull up a chair," I tell him, logging on.

He looks around.

"Oh, sorry. There should be one that's easy to drag in here from one of the guest bedrooms..."

He leaves and I pull up my web browser, going to YouTube. As I wait I fold my hands, spinning slowly in the chair. Moments later he comes back, carrying a plush black armchair. He sets it next to me. Grinning again, I spin to the computer and crack my knuckles.

"You shouldn't do that."

I look at him. "Do what?"

"Crack your knuckles. You're a musician."

I roll my eyes, turning back to the computer. And even though I show annoyance, I'm anything but annoyed. How can one person be so fucking sweet and endearing? He's constantly looking out for my well-being. God, he's so fucking perfect I almost can't stand it.

"So, you know Queen, right?"

"Bohemian Rhapsody Queen?"

"Right-do you know any of their other stuff?"

"Not really, besides what's on the radio..."

"Well they're one of my favorite bands of all time. They influence me so much, especially the more dramatic side of my stage presence."

Tristan looks thoughtful a moment. "I guess you can be a bit over-the-top sometimes."

"I wore a fucking cape once, like some sort of British person, top hat and all. With a cane."

He laughs. "You did do that, didn't you?"

"Yeah. Anyway. I want to show you my all time favorite music video."

He raises his eyebrows, and I click play on I'm Going Slightly Mad. By the end of it, Tristan is laughing.

"What in the hell did I just watch?"

"A masterpiece," I beam.

He takes me by the chin then. "You're a masterpiece."

God, that was corny, but fuck if I didn't eat it up. My stomach did it's weird, excited flip-flop, and I didn't want to take my eyes off him. If I could just feel like this forever, I would. I never, ever want to let this go.

I grab his hand, leading him back to the bed and lay down. He lays down next to me, hands folded on his stomach. For a while we just stare up at the collage of posters, not saying anything. We don't have to say anything. It's perfect.

Tristan points. "Who is VAST?"

I sit up. "Another one of my favorite groups."

"Never heard of them."

"Yeah, they weren't that popular."

"Giving up your emo-goth-whateverthefuckyouare cover, and trading it in for hipster?"

I roll my eyes. "Ha ha."

"Play me something of theirs."

I get up and grab my MP3 player. He grabs my hand when I sit back down. He shakes his head, looking at me with his perfect caramel eyes.

"No-play me something." He smiles. "If you can, that is."

"Of course."

I get up and grab my acoustic. Sitting back down, I make sure the instrument is in tune. Then I clear my throat.

The song is called Flames. And by the time I'm done, I'm shaking and trying not to cry. This song is exactly how I feel about him. There's nothing but truth in the lyrics, even if I didn't write them myself. And I think he knows that, because it's then he kisses me.

But instead of stopping after a few moments like we usually do, we continue. He gently falls backwards onto the bed, and we explore each other. Every massage, every caress, sends an electric ripple through my skin where he touches. Goosebumps cascade down my spine, making me shudder delightfully. I don't want this feeling to stop, not ever. And all the while we never stop kissing sweetly.

Even as things progress it's all so very chaste. It's innocent, it's decorous, it's sinless. The act of making love for the first time leaves us undefiled. That memory will forever be guiltless in my mind. It will always ring demure, completely unadulterated like the fresh driven snow I had witnessed in the seclusion of Minnesota.

It's unlike anything I've ever done, ever experienced. I nearly start crying at one point, finally understanding why it's referred to as "making love". And afterwards, as he's holding me in his arms and I drift off to sleep, I tell him in a hazy murmur, "Please don't ever leave me."

And Tristan says, "I won't."

And I believe him.

~

"I have this morbid want to see the evidence they have against my stalker."

I'm talking to Jessica over the phone.

"I really don't think that's a good idea Orion."

"Why?"

"Who knows what they found? What she did was extremely disturbing. Wouldn't you be afraid of what else they potentially found?"

"I guess, but I'm also worried that it's not her who they caught. They keep assuring me it is, that they have hard evidence and that there's not much she or her lawyer are going to be able to do in court...That they're probably just going to go for a plea bargain..."

"I understand how scary this must be for you, Orion."

Does she? I kinda feel like she doesn't. I'm fucking petrified.

"But I don't see what viewing the evidence would accomplish except scaring you further."

"Yeah, but--"

"Orion. If you're really hellbent on seeing it, you won't legally be able to until after the trial anyway."

My brow furrows. "Why? I'm the victim--why can't I?"

"It's called Chain of Custody. Evidence needs to be handled carefully so it's not deemed inadmissible in court--that means it can't be thrown out and not used as evidence. The less hands that touch evidence the better. It lessens the chances of tampering or contamination. Plus you're the victim--I'm not saying you would, but someone might try to manipulate the evidence so they win--does that make sense?"

My shoulders slump. "Yeah."

"Alright. Sorry I can't help you in this matter, Orion."

"It's okay," though I can't mask my disappointment. "Thanks for taking my call."

"Of course. Have a wonderful day."

"You too."

Tristan looks at me expectantly. "Well?"

I put my head down on the counter. "She can't help."

"I'm sorry." He comes around to my side of the counter, rubbing my shoulder.

"It is what it is, I guess."

"Can I do anything?"

I sit up and kiss him. "No. Do you mind if I have some alone time?"

He looks worried. "Yeah, that's fine."

"I'm going to go for a drive."

"Sure." He kisses my nose. "Would you mind if I stayed the night?"

I can't help but smile. "Of course not."

He kisses me on the lips and hugs me. "Please let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"Of course."

~

Before I even know what the fuck I'm doing I'm at the club I like. I've been there for an hour, dancing by myself. I'm a sweaty mess. Finally having had enough dancing, I push my way through the crowded dance floor and make my way over to the bar in back.

I sit down. I don't know why--I mean, she's employed here--but I'm surprised when I notice my blonde haired fan working the bar. I catch her attention and wave her over. She finishes up with a few people who were ahead of me and then comes over.

"Orion!"

"Hi!"

"Good to see you again. Do you come here often?"

"Yeah, actually You're the first person who's ever recognized me; I like being anonymous. Plus the music's good here."

She laughs. "I never would have guessed you'd like pop."

I shrug. "I'm a complicated dude."

She laughs again.

"So what's your name? Sorry, I didn't catch it last time."

She holds out her hand. "Olivia."

"Yes," I reply enthusiastically as we shake, "another 'o' name!"

She giggles. "So, what can I getcha?"

"Water." I pause. "Actually a beer. No water--both?"

She laughs again. "Which is it?"

"Both," I say assured.

"You got it."

Olivia walks away and comes back moments later with my drinks. I drink my beer first, then my water. When that's done I go back to dancing.

I do that three more times, then a fourth. I finally decide it's time to go the fuck home when a random woman starts grinding up on me. I shove her away (rude of me, I know), and snap at her that I'm taken. She flips me off and I stick my tongue out at her, which makes her roll her eyes and walk away. Good.

The club is closing soon. It's damn near three in the morning. I make my way back to the bar and flag down Olivia. She smiles and comes over.

"What's up?"

"Water please."

She gets it for me.

"Hey Olivia?"

"Orion?"

"Wanna have a smoke when you get off?"

"Sure. Can you wait--" she glances at her watch, "ten more minutes?"

"Yup."

So I wait for her, chugging my water. Once she's off I ask for another bottle of water. She grabs one and hands it to me as the last people clear out. She gives me a wink.

"This one's on me."

We make our way to the alley just like we did last time. For a while we don't say anything, simply smoke. Then I notice she's wearing the hoodie I gave her. So I finally have the courage to say what I wanted to tell her.

"I wanted to apologize to you, Olivia."

"What? Why?"

"I lied to you when we met."

She looks genuinely confused. "You did?"

"I told you it gets better, but I lied. It doesn't get better, Olivia. It never fucking gets better, and I'm sorry."

She gives me an unsure look as she takes a drag. I'm thankful when she doesn't say anything though.

~

By the time I get home it's nearly four AM. I probably shouldn't have been driving, but nothing happened. I slip off my shoes, lock the door, and double-check to make sure it's locked. Then I slowly make my way upstairs.

Tristan is on my bed. He's curled up, still in his clothes, laying on top of the sheets. I frown.

I shouldn't have done most of what I did tonight. A wave of guilt hits me--how late did he stay up, waiting for me? I go into the bathroom quietly and I want to punch my reflection.

Instead I brush my teeth and use mouthwash, hoping the beer smell will be gone in the morning. Afterwards I peel off my clothes and crawl into bed with him. He turns over immediately and scoots close to me.

Tristan's eyes flutter open for a second and he smiles. "Orion."

He's asleep again already. I shift until I'm comfortable and then wrap my arms around him. For a while I just smell his hair, breathing in the scent of his shampoo. I close my eyes, ready to go to sleep.

"I'm sorry..."