Small Rebellions

“Tell me you don’t ever think about blowing it all up.”

“It all” means whatever you’re referring to

“Everything. The apartment. The routines. The stupid calendar reminders telling us when to be productive. The version of ourselves that pretends this is fine.”

"He's acting like it's no big deal when these plans could literally upend your whole life."

"I'm not saying we'd burn anything. Just… stop showing up."

“Ah. Emotional arson.”

“Exactly.”

One lay across the cushion, the other stretched out in reverse, legs knotted where pillow met seat, as if both forgot how far apart they could be. A screen glowed without sound, fixed on a program about dishes no one followed. Beyond the windows, the town stirred with its common dusk: wails punctuated joy, cars murmured through quiet streets, never at rest even at rest.

“Ten minutes straight,” Alex noticed, “what's behind that gaze.”

"Waking somewhere new felt different," Jamie said. "Not guided by habit. No usual fear right away."

“So, like a hotel?”

“Not really. Places now remember guests too well. A spot like that though - no pressure about who you're supposed to be.”

“That sounds lonely.”

“That seems quiet.”

A movement from Alex, one elbow lifted off the bed. "You alright," it comes, quiet, close.

A quiet laugh came from Jamie. “You say that like it has a right or wrong response.”

“Is there not?”

“That reply - it shuts things down. This one? It opens the door”

“Dealer's choice.”

Breath leaves Jamie slow. "Trying this hard just wears me down," he says, "this dream we stack stone by stone."

That caught Alex right away.

“Okay,” they said slowly. “ That’s… a sentence.”

Jamie blurted out, "I don't hate it." Then paused, breathless. "I don't. I just -" The words tumbled after. "Every milestone feels like a performance." He spoke fast, like he could not stop. "Like we’re hitting marks in a play we never auditioned for."

Fingers drifting like wind across Jamie's skin, Alex asked - should we walk away from the whole thing, or try changing the words halfway through?

“Can we do both?”

“Possibly. Depends how dramatic you want to be.”

Jamie turned their head, finally looking at Alex. “ What if we left?”

“Left where?”

“Left is the place. Car got packed. Nobody heard about it. Drove past when the radio ran out.”

“That’s how horror movies start.”

“That’s how road trips start too.”

A grin spread across Alex’s face. "You're making this sound more beautiful than it is," he said.

“I’m managing.”

“Fair.”

After a while, they stopped talking once more - yet it didn’t bring tension. This pause sat between them like a quiet, mutual rhythm, steady without strain.

“Do you ever feel like we’re too young to be this tired?” Jamie asked.

“All the time.”

“Besides being too old to fake it, are we?”

“Constantly.”

Closer now, Jamie places their head near Alex’s thigh. “What could we grab if we left?”

She paused, considering his words. “Your bag already has enough to carry,” she said finally.

“These ones matter.”

“One line told you everything.”

“Still essential.”

“I’d bring the coffee maker.”

“You would.”

“Not one thing you’d use in real life.”

“Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t also bring anxiety.”

She chuckled. "That comes standard," he said.

Fingers moved quietly along Alex's leg, drawing unseen shapes without thought, each stroke slow, steady, like root digging into soil. This touch did more than sit there - it pressed into silence, leaving breath thick, almost visible.

Jamie paused, then continued, “You know,” his words gentle at once, “how simple it might be to vanish into one another.”

She worked the word into her mouth. “Meaning?”

“Meaning if the world expects too much, maybe we just… don’t let it in tonight.”

Fingers pulled through Jamie's hair, soft and still. Alex's palm settled there, quiet. "This idea pulls at something worth considering," he said

Jamie said it plain. "Not a long-term solution." Turns out, it's more like a quick act of defiance.

“I can get behind small rebellions.”

One by one, they bent in, pressing lips to Jamie’s forehead, followed by a touch at their temple, ending last with a tender kiss on their mouth - soft, without rush, as if effort didn’t matter right now. This was the way silence could speak loud.

A grin spread across Jamie's face as she pressed kisses to Alex's mouth. “See?” she whispered. “This is why I keep you around.”

“Just how much does it ease your mind - or help you kiss someone?”

“Yes.”

He laughed. “If fleeing isn’t an option, then what comes next?”

Something slightly irresponsible but reversible. ”

“Like what?”

She lifted herself into a sitting position, light flashing through her eyes - a sign Alex knew too well. "We ought to head out to the vehicle," he said.

“Nine now”

“Exactly.”

“Then what happens next?”

“I don’t know yet. Somewhere with bad lighting and cheap drinks. Somewhere nobody knows us.”

She paused. "We both have work tomorrow."

Something in Jamie's expression shifted. He paused, then said, “Your energy's definitely rubbing me the wrong way right now.”

Breath leaves her body as a quiet sigh, yet a faint smile stays. "Fine," she says. "One drink. Perhaps another."

“Three,” Jamie said.

“He's stretching it."

Close now, Jamie says softly, "It'll be worth it."

Heat crept along Alex’s spine. “You’re cheating,” they said.

“Strategizing.”

On feet with sneakers tied loose, they picked up coats while the room began to breathe easier. Standing became real as they reached for hangers and zippers without hesitation.

Outside, Jamie pressed Alex's hand. “Appreciate you not writing me off.”

“Why keep going?”

“For wanting more. Or less. Or just… different.”

She squeezed tight. Change doesn’t need escape.

A grin spread across Jamie’s face. “Still good to know we might have.”

Out of sight they went, stepping lower on the block, their shapes fading past lampposts - no sudden turns, only regular paths splitting apart slowly. Not fixed ends, yet moments still held something like breath.

So here it is - that sat fine on its own.