To Catch a Firefly

by Emmy Sanders

“I was eighteen…” There’s a pause, and Ellis’s fingers curl lazily against my scalp. “The first time I thought…about this.”

When Ellis finally pulls back, his eyes catch mine. For just a moment, I can see the boy he used to be inside the man he is now. I can see the way he used to look at me—the way he still does. It’s not lust or even attraction that fuels that familiar expression. It’s…understanding. Comfort. A want that runs deep. It’s companionship. Love.

I see all the facets of the person who stepped into my life fifteen years ago and who—unintentionally—made me fall in love. And it hits me. This is my best friend. The person I know most in this world. And he isn’t going away. This isn’t going away. Not ever. I knew that; deep down, I did. But I was still scared. Terrified, even, about what this sort of change meant for me and Ellis. I’m not scared anymore.

“Always yours,” he says. And as the fireflies twinkle above, our mouths dance.

“What are you thinking about, El?” I clear my throat before answering. “Us.”

How do I tell him I see everything? In my most vivid waking dreams, I see everything he’ll give me. A life with him, in whatever form that might take. Years of loving him because I know I’ll do that no matter what. I see snippets of days just like this one, where we hike or share meals or simply enjoy one another’s company. I see him. Always him.

“But then, I think about what we did have, and I wouldn’t change a thing. I’m so glad you’re my best friend, El. Even if it took us a few extra trips to get to where we are now, I’m so glad it was you. Is you. Will be you.” “Always,” I whisper.

“Want everything…with you.” “Then yeah, El,” he answers easily. “We’ll do that. Anything you want. Everything you want.” “There’s…a lot,” I tell him. His smile is a little wicked. “We have time. Don’t we?” Yeah. We do.

“Could I photograph you nude?” I ask. He blinks at me once, twice, before nodding. I swear my heart misses a beat. “No one will see the pictures but me,” I assure him.

“I want more,” I whisper. “I want so many more pictures, El.” “All yours,” he says.

The calls where Lucky encourages me to wrap a fist around myself while he whispers in my ear about what we’ve done together—or what he’d like to do—don’t hurt either.

My pulse is pounding when I hear a car door shut outside. I let my mom’s hand go and step up to the front window, right beside the Christmas tree that sparkles white. The relief I feel is staggering, and my breath breaks with it, stuttering against the windowpane. Lucky is outside. He’s here, here, and it’ll be okay. It’ll be okay because everything is always okay when Lucky is around.

“I won’t make do with that. I want to be here, with you. I want to live with you. Come home to you. You’re telling me you don’t want the same thing?” “Only thing…I’ve wanted.”

“El,” I say softly, opening my eyes. He’s standing just a foot in front of me, looking as miserable as I feel. “Do you want…me?” He nods, a short, jerky thing. “This,” I say, pointing between us. “You still want this?” The noise he makes is a wounded yes.

“If you can’t say it, then write it down or do whatever you need to do. But I need to know what’s going on inside your head right now. Believe it or not, El, I can’t read your mind.” For the first time, I get a hint of a smile, but it’s a tiny thing. Frail. “Can’t ask…” he says, trailing off.

“Do you want to know what the most remarkable thing in my life is?” He doesn’t say a word. “El,” I rasp. “It’s you.”

“You beautiful man,” he says, sounding frustrated but…not. “I love traveling. I love my job. But at the end of the day, all I want is to share it with you. You’re the one I want to come home to. You’re the one I miss every time I’m back in New York. You’re the one who makes me happy, who makes my pulse jump like no other high.”

“You say I’m your firefly?” I nod. Yes. “Well you’re my goddamn moon, Ellis. You call, I come.” “I… I never asked for that.” “You didn’t have to.”

“You had a secret,” he says. “So do I. Ready?” I can’t move, and Lucky’s eyes ping between my own. His voice, when he speaks, is quiet. “I love you, too. I have for years. I loved you then, and I love you now, and I won’t ever stop. I’m not capable of it. You’re it for me, El. You’re my big goddamn romance. And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here with you.”

“Luck.” “So are you going to kiss me now or what?” he asks, lips twitching up at the corner. “I was expecting a welcome home. And instead, I got snow-filled boots.” He barely finishes the last word before my lips crash into his. He whimpers against me, his grip on my shirt tightening. It’s relief and happiness and the bitter sting of fear. But most of all, it’s coming home. His lips taste like home.

I’ll give him a home so warm and inviting he won’t ever regret staying by my side. He’ll know he’s loved, without fail, without limits, without end. “Love you,” I whisper against his lips. He lets out a small, happy laugh, looping his arms around my neck. “Again.” “I love you,” I tell him, pulling him up. His legs circle my waist, and I hold him to me. I hold him as tight as I dare.

“I’m so ridiculously in love with you, you’re going to get sick of hearing me say it.” I shake my head. Never. “We’ll see,” he says, but it doesn’t sound like a warning. It sounds like a promise.

“You’re broad, like a mountain. Muscular. Strong. Your presence is big, but you’re so gentle and measured. There was never a time I didn’t feel safe with you.”

“You’re breathtaking,” he says, looking up at my face, his eyes skipping over my features. “Handsome. Sexy. You have a strong jaw and a good nose.”

“You may not say a lot, but your eyes have always told me everything I needed to know.” His hand settles on my chest, palm warm over the swift beat of my heart.

It’s a while before Lucky falls silent, his hand toying with my chest. “El?” I hum. “I won’t leave like him.” My chest pinches. “I shouldn’t…have said that.” “No,” he says, shifting until our faces are aligned. “I want you to speak your mind, Ellis. Always. I did move away.”

“But… Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I did it once, and I won’t ever do it again. I missed you every day I was gone. I wondered, more often than once, if I’d made a mistake. And every time I stayed away a little longer, it felt like I was losing my breath. Like I had less oxygen in my lungs. I was starved of it without you, El. You don’t make me feel trapped, okay? Never. You’re the air I breathe.”

I’ve never seen him love anyone or anything more than he loves you. Trust in that. He won’t ever try to hurt you. It’s not in his nature.”

I know, no matter how hard I try, I will never be able to explain to him the depth of what he makes me feel. How he means comfort and safety. How I long for him with an intensity I don’t even fully understand. How he makes me brave and, at times, a little fierce, just like him. How, when we’re together, all I can see is blue. He’s blue, and our story is washed in it.

Blue is love. To me, it’s love. And that’s always been Lucky. “Love you,” I say, hoping the two words are enough.

“Promise me something,” he says, turning his face. My lips brush his cheek. Anything. “Promise we’ll still do this when we’re sixty or eighty or a hundred. I want a lifetime with you, El. Me and you. ’Til the end of time.” I draw an X over Lucky’s heart. Promise.

“Ellis,” I say, at a loss for words. “My heart,” he says simply. “It’s yours.” My breath leaves my lungs. I twist the heart carefully in my hands. It feels so delicate. “It’s beautiful,” I manage to say, meeting Ellis’s eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

He’s kneeling, too. But instead of being on two knees, he’s down on one, hands clasped in front of him. The expression on his face is one I’ve seen hundreds, if not thousands, of times before, and his lips quirk up a bit at one side, like he has a secret. He opens his hands without a word, opening the small box within at the same time. The world feels hushed, not a sound reaching my ears above my own soft exhalation.

Earlier, he gave me his heart. This…this is his life he’s offering. My hand trembles as I reach forward, picking up the ring. It’s softer than metal. Silicone, if I had to guess. A thoughtful choice considering my active job. And it’s dark blue, so dark, at first I thought it was black.

And I kiss him. It’s yes and of course and we’re going to be so happy, you just wait and see. It’s sixteen years of Hi. What’s your name? Mine’s Lucky. It’s knowing no matter how much more time passes, this is my person, and I am his, and we’re bound together by fate or choice or, hell, corn for all I know. It’s being somewhere in the middle of a very long journey, and knowing there’s no end.