Chapter 3

~*~

Turning another page, Seneca looked up and realized what time it was. He had been reading later and later for the past few nights, and the clock now said 12:15. Gloria had floated noiselessly up to bed unnoticed, and the candles she had lit were burning low. Looking at his bookmark he left in to mark where he began reading, he was surprised by the width of pages passed. 

Sighing, he set the book down on the table and stretched his legs which had gotten too used to their bent position. His ankles popped, followed by his hips and shoulders. His body had no reason to be so creaky, he thought. He wasn’t old. 

Should he go upstairs and disturb Gloria by getting into bed so late? What time had she gone up? He felt selfish for not paying attention to her, and a hollow feeling sunk into him that maybe he’d been neglecting her lately. 

He’d heard from two of the closest colleges, congratulating him on accepted applications, but he still had to make up his mind about which one he’d be attending- something he dreaded doing. He was used to others making up his mind for him, and taking big steps was a frightening idea to him.

 Not that he could tell this to Gloria. He had told her to have faith in him, that she shouldn’t doubt him even though he secretly doubted himself. If he told her he was nervous, would she tell him to wait until he was ready? Would she tell him to hold off, or would she tell him to dive in anyway? 

She seemed so happy with her idea of going on this farming fellowship, busying herself in making lists on what to pack and rereading the pamphlet about the course over and over. The folds in the paper were white from creasing, and the paper was soft from wrinkling. The plan was that Seneca would leave at the end of summer to go to school, and she would go with him to settle in. She couldn't stay though; guests weren’t allowed to live on campus, even if they were visiting, on either campus, no matter the college.

“I wish I could take you with me,” Seneca said to himself. With a sigh he stood from the couch and walked to the stairs. 

Late at night, when the house was quiet and he was the only one awake, Seneca’s thoughts got the better of him, and his doubt settled on him like heavy hands on his shoulders. Gloria was happy to be leaving. Excited. He should feel the same, be bubbling to go, making lists like she was and enjoying his time before they both left. 

How could he be happy leaving Gloria? Long distance relationships were hard, and the thought of not seeing her daily made him feel like his insides were stretching with grief. What had he done, choosing this? 

How could he tell her?

~*~

“Let's go down to the beach,” Seneca said, breaking the silence. Gloria had earbuds in, knitting away, and Seneca had been reading the same paragraph over and over, trying to make it stick in his head instead of thinking about how Gloria was sitting just out of reach.

“Now?” she asked.

“Yeah, why not? The weather is beautiful, and we’re roasting in here. It’ll be fun, let’s go!”

“I’m not dressed for it-” 

“It’s just down to the sand, no one’s going to see us. Or they won’t mind,” he winked. “We’re the crazy young couple on the hill, remember? We have to make sure that assumption is backed up!” 

Gloria’s face cracked into a grin. “Sure, let’s go! I’ll grab my sandals and some towels!”

“I’ll grab some water bottles!” he said, a smile planted on his face. 

They stood from their seats and grabbed their treasures. Opening the fridge felt like a small heaven compared to the still air of the house. He heard Gloria walking around upstairs, then the smacking sound of flip flops hitting the bottoms of her feet. As graceful as Gloria could appear, there was no way to be graceful in flip flops.

Seneca took the two bottles and put them in his cargo pockets, then walked out to the porch to wait. The birds were chirping loudly, and the breeze moved more hot air next to his skin, hardly making anything better. 

Gloria opened the door and stepped out onto the porch,  hair tied up and her shirt hastily changed. 

“I told you you didn’t need to change!” Seneca teased. 

“Yeah, but I’ll be damned if I get a farmer’s tan,” she retorted back.

“You’re beautiful in anything you wear,” he grinned, stepping away from her and down the steps. “Race you to the water!” 

He set off in a sprint, running for the path down to the beach.

“Hey, not fair! I’m carrying stuff, and I’m wearing flip flops! I can’t run in these!” Gloria said, kicking off her sandals and deciding to just run barefoot. 

They laughed all the way down to the water. Gloria had slightly better stamina, and she made it to the water first by a few moments, panting as Seneca reached the water. “You cheated,” Gloria accused.

“I had to make sure I can still make you breathless,” he smiled, pulling her in for a kiss. She smiled against his lips, giggling. 

“You make my heart stop everyday,” she said to him. “We need to remember these times, for when we don’t have them. I love you, Sen.” 

“I love you too, Glo.” he said, gazing into her eyes. “But I can make a better sand sculpture than you.”

Still gazing romantically into his eyes, Gloria said “I’ll take that bet,” then grinned like a Cheshire cat. Breaking his gaze, she walked a ways away and knelt in the sand, starting to construct her sculpture.

They built in silence, not talking much. Seneca didn’t know if Gloria wanted to talk or not. She was always someone who said what was on her mind- Seneca rarely had to ask her. But she’d been so quiet lately, even during this time of mounting change, and he found it unbelievable that she would have nothing to talk about. 

“So tell me again why you won’t be able to get ahold of me?” Seneca asked as they built.

“The runners of the fellowship are big on unplugging and centering yourself in nature and being in tune with your body and the feelings of those around you, or something,” Gloria smoothed out an edge as she spoke. “Honestly, I’m kinda looking forward to it. It’s been so long since I spent time away from screens. I used to meditate every day and work on me, but now I work on the garden and I feel like half of my day is spent in front of a screen,”

“I can empathise. But still, I’ll miss you. We can’t even text? Except on the weekends? That seems barbaric,” Seneca laughed.

“You’ll be so busy, you won’t even notice I’m gone. The week will drift through and we’ll hardly notice,” Gloria assured. “But I’ll miss you too. I’ll want to tell you about everyone I meet, all of the activities we do, how hard it all is, how tired I’ll be.”

“And I’ll want to tell you that the text books spelled something wrong, or that my teachers are crazy, or that there are way too many stairs in the buildings, or how drunk my classmates are going to get.” Seneca countered.

Gloria grinned. “We’re going to two very different places, and yet they’re very similar, aren’t they?”

Seneca grinned back at her. “I couldn’t agree more.”

And I’m scared out of my mind of leaving you, but I can’t say that because I want you to go and be happy.

Will Gloria and Seneca let the divide between them grow bigger? What will happen when they part ways? Can their love stand the test of distance? Stay tuned to find out!

Here are some extra pictures and bloopers for this week's chapter!

^ I really liked this one, but the other picture just felt like it fit a bit better and fit his ambition. This one is a bit more tender. I love my tender boy.

^Gloria got to the beach first. I didn't mean for the two of them to be so far apart while running, but I didn't have the daylight to do it again.

^So much for not letting anything come between you two...

^It's always awesome when your sims do something random and you get a beautiful picture out of it.

^Gloria's parents dropped by! Liam was there too, but not pictured. Anwyn came to give Gloria a gift. It was *drumroll*... an apple.

^Rosa Galant made an appearance too! She got quite the make over, makes her look much younger and edgy.

The late King Galant also made an appearance the night prior, but he finally died. I didn't actually kill the sim last story, I kept him alive long enough to bring him to the new world, and then I turned auto aging back on (why does it feel so thrilling to have aging sims?! I'm so used to my sims not aging.) So now Seneca and Gloria own his urn? He died on their front porch...