He Was My Ecstasy

He Was My Ecstasy 3

ZURI'S POV

The door upstairs banged and we jumped apart like we’d been burned, and my heart launched itself into my throat, pounding so hard I swore Liam could hear it. "Brother!" A little girl's voice came down the stairs, bright and urgent. Aya. Liam was already moving, he took the concrete stairs two at a time, fast, like he was running to cover something I wasn’t meant to see, like he was running to protect me from her, or her from us. "Hey, hey, slow down," I heard him say, and his voice, god, it wasn’t the low, calm "Stay here" voice from the library, this was soft and gentle, the kind of voice you use with something breakable, the kind of voice that made my chest ache because I realized he had it in him.

I heard them talking and it wasn’t an argument, it was the kind of loving conflict siblings have, half exasperation, half care, and I had already liked the little girl just from her voice because she sounded small and fragile, like even raising your voice at her would be a crime. My heart was still pounding and my lips still tingled from how close we’d been, from how his hand had rested on my waist like it belonged there, from how his breath had smelled like fresh mint and secrets. I sat there in the basement that smelled like roses and motor oil, trying to remember how to breathe normally because I’d forgotten, and down here, with him, I’d learned a different kind of breathing, the breath you take right before you confess something that could ruin you, the breath you hold when someone’s face is too close to yours.

Footsteps, light ones this time, then her voice, closer: "Who’s that, bro?" Aya came down. She was maybe 8, with two neat braids and an oversized hoodie that was clearly Liam’s, swallowing her whole, and she held a juice box in one hand and a toy car in the other, like she’d been in the middle of something important upstairs. She had small, round eyes that fit perfectly on her small face and they twinkled like actual stars. She looked at me, then at Liam, then at the two plastic chairs pulled too close together, way too close to explain away. Liam stepped in front of me, just a little, protective and instinctive. "This is Zuri," he said, his voice was still soft, "A friend from school. Zuri, this is my sister, Aya." He over-explained and I could hear it.

Aya tilted her head and studied me the way a scientist studies a bug under glass, curious, unblinking, missing nothing. "Hi," she said. "Hi," I whispered back and my voice came out shaky and soft, like I was the one who was 8. Liam crouched down to Aya’s level and reached out and fixed one of her braids that was coming loose, his rough fingers surprisingly careful. "You were supposed to wait upstairs, munchkin," he said, no anger, just tired affection. "I got bored," she said, and immediately leaned into his shoulder, and he hugged her, one arm around her, pulling her close, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And it broke me a little because I felt it, the weight of that hug, the kind that says I'm here, the kind that promises I won’t let anything happen to you.

I watched him because this was the "bad boy" the teachers whispered about in staff meetings, the guy who got into fights, who smoked behind the blocks, and right now he was just a big brother, with tired eyes and scarred knuckles, and so gentle it physically hurt to look at him, maybe his "badness" was just overprotection, maybe the world made him hard so he could be soft for her. "School friend, huh?" Aya said, turning those big eyes on me again. "Yes," I said, clearing my throat, "From Northlea." Liam stood up and looked at me, just for one second, and his eyes said everything: I'm sorry you saw this, I'm not sorry you saw me. This time it wasn’t about us getting caught, it was about me seeing the part of him he kept locked away, the part that cared, that protected.

"Aya, can you go wait upstairs for 2 minutes, I need to talk to Zuri," he said. "Okay," she said, then she turned to me and whispered, loud enough for both of us to hear: "He is nice, do not make him sad." Her voice was serious, like if I hurt him, I’d hurt her too, and I never would, I couldn’t, then she ran back up, juice box and all. The moment was different now, not ruined, just heavier, like someone had shown me a secret room in his house without giving me the key, just a feeling that I’d been trusted with something dangerous. "Do you need me to walk you out?" Liam asked. "No, I know the way, thank you," I said, and my voice wasn’t angry, it was just heavy, tired in a good way, the way you feel after crying, or after being held. I walked out past the smell of grease and roses and past Aya’s toy car on the step, and I remembered how she’d interrupted us and I smiled, despite everything, past the place that, 5 minutes ago, felt like the safest place in the world, because now it did, for a completely different reason.

LIAM'S POV

"Who was that?" Aya asked, swinging her legs from the chair. "A friend," I said. "She's pretty," Aya said, then, quieter: "And sad, like you." She was 8 going on 30, too wise, too caring, too much like me. I grunted, "You’re too smart for 8." "And you’re too soft for a 'bad boy'," she said, and stole my chips. I didn’t even fight her, I just smiled.

The rest of the day I worked but I kept looking at the stairs, and all I could think about was Zuri seeing that, me with Aya, no walls, no hoodie to hide behind, and I hoped she didn’t mistake it, hoped she didn’t think I was weak. At 5pm I locked up and the garage was quiet, too quiet, and my mind was full of her, of the way she’d looked at me when I hugged Aya, of how the basement suddenly felt like my favorite place in the world because she was in it. I sat in my car and pulled out my phone. Me: Are you home safe? Me: Sorry Aya popped in. Me: Monday, after school, the roof? Me: Just us, no sisters, no interruptions. I hit send. She didn’t reply right away and I didn’t force it, but god, I wanted her to.