Page 38 of Offside

That term–it had such a different ring when it was coming from my mom. I loved every second of hearing it from Knight, but now I just want to curl in on myself again.

And now I was being forced to see Landon when I was still almost in tears again over another version of him.

My mom was happy as a clam, walking down my hallway, knocking on the door I pointed to with fever. She was excited to do something nice, while I was dreading having to hear the real voice of the man I–

“Hello?” another kind mom voice asked, a head looking an awful lot like Landon’s popping out.

Same pale skin, same black hair, only hers was tied back neatly in a bun.

Maybe they were all vampires…

“H-hi,” I stuttered, stepping forward at my mom's gentle shove. “I’m Sam–I play with Landon. He’s my partner–we were just bringing by some cookies for him.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet–come in,” she cooed, opening the door more and waving us in.

Oh god–no. I couldn’t walk in there and nonononono.

“Thank you,” my mom answered for me, giving my back a little push again to make me walk forward.

Because the universe was a cruel mistress and I was her favorite toy.

Landon’s apartment was…Knight’s.

I recognized the bookshelf in the corner and the coffee table from pictures he’s sent in the past. That was his TV, and he still had his copy of Rogue One on his TV stand–we’d watched it a few days before he got hurt.

Every second of being in that living room was suffocating…but then there was Landon, leaning against the counter in the kitchen and pouring himself a soda.

He looked okay–he was in sweats and a T-shirt with a brace around his knee, but he was standing…kind of.

I couldn’t help but lock on to his face–that sad, broken face, watching liquid pour like it was all that interesting. I knew that look–I’d had that look all week.

If I had to guess, I'd say the single thought in his head right now was a lot of what’s the fucking point?

“Landy,” his mom called out, only earning half his attention with an eyebrow raise. “Your friend brought cookies–oh, these are gorgeous,” she cooed, gawking at the plate of cookies and turning to talk to my mom about them.

Good choice–I played no hand in making those.

“Your mom forced you?” Landon mumbled, only looking up when he was putting the empty can down.

“Yup,” I grumbled, taking the plate from his mom to put it on the counter. “My mom thought it would help my grinchy mood.”

“Yeah, my mom thought dragging me out of bed for A Christmas Story would fix mine, but no dice,” he half-chuckled, but it was lifeless.

Landon reached for one of the cookies, but hesitated. “Any peanuts?” he asked, gesturing at the cookies.

Oh, fuck you, universe.

Like, I didn’t have enough proof already–the universe just liked laughing at me.

He took one of the cookies and took a bite, humming a little at the taste. I had to actually bite back the first smile I’d felt in a week–something about making him even a little happy with the cookie was warming the cold, barren cavern in my chest slightly.

That was my Knight.

I heard it in that hum–the same one he had when he got a bite of whatever food he’d been craving that I caved to that night.

My heart ached watching him because that was my Knight. It was him every time I bumped into him, and every time we tried to force a relationship between us–we had one!

We had the best one!