An October Question by An October Question (epub)

Author:An October Question (epub)
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0000000000000
Published: 2022-11-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

After his graduate seminar—objects and materiality in the global Middle Ages, with fantastic students and future colleagues who were going to change the field—on Tuesday, Wes settled into office hours, on campus, and dealt with anxious undergraduates worried about research papers, and a PhD candidate wanting feedback on a dissertation chapter, and a kingdom’s worth of emails that’d somehow accumulated over the three hours he’d been in class. He answered the most urgent.

He eyed an article submission that’d just come in for the Journal of Medieval Arts and Textile Cultures. He should probably get around to finding a reviewer for it.

Branches rustled beyond his office window. Green and gold, against smoky blue October sky.

Finn did love autumn. Wes had not ever previously had a favorite season; he hadn’t thought much about it, and in Los Angeles the seasons more or less consisted of hot and less hot, with a sprinkling of winter rain. He honestly would’ve shrugged, if asked. But Finn would’ve had an answer, of course.

When they’d bought the house together, when they’d moved in, Wes had wanted clean, cool, simple: blacks and greys, dark woods, straight lines, modern. Finn had agreed, but then had proceeded to slowly accumulate seasonal décor, throw pillows shaped like sunflowers and pumpkins, flower-wreaths on doors for springtime and fresh green garlands for winter, which made the whole house smell like pine. Finn fell in love with candles shaped like ghosts, and blankets woven in jaunty nautical summery stripes, and new hobbies-of-the-month that resulted in twig-art vases or enthusiastically home-brewed beer.

A while ago, around a certain Valentine’s Day—the one on which he’d given Finn the promise ring—the hobby had involved knitting. Wes was wearing one of those scarves now, even though the weather wasn’t that cold. This one had a green-and-blue-and-silver pattern that resembled a dragon’s scales, and he always got compliments about it, and he loved it.

He’d picked it up that morning because he’d hoped the gesture, the love, would make Finn smile. It had; those tropical-ocean eyes had warmed, pleasure in rich seas, when Wes had put the scarf on.

He hoped Finn was resting. Recovering. Rebuilding some reserves, before going off to work on yet another project.

He wanted to text. Or to call. Not for a specific reason, or maybe for too many reasons. He wanted to say: I love you, I know you don’t need me to worry about you, you’re amazing, please take care of yourself, do you want me to leave campus now and bring you a box of chocolates from that shop you like, are you okay, is there something you aren’t telling me, please tell me, I’m coming apart from not knowing, what do you need, what can I give you, my heart and my soul and every single piece of me, it’s all yours, I’m all yours, just talk to me, please.

He knew Finn sometimes needed to be asked. He knew. He thought he’d been trying. Maybe he hadn’t been trying hard enough, or he’d got it wrong.

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