I look up at the stars for something to do. My nose feels cold, and I can barely see my breath rising in the starlight. When his face turns up from his feet out of the corner of my eye I have to fight the urge to look at him.
Really, I don't even have to look. I can see him now, face upturned, eyes far away, lips slightly parted, and his stupid jawline made more prominent from the angle. This is ridiculous. What's stopping you? I say to myself. It's one last night. I venture a glance in his direction, but to my surprise he's not looking at the stars.
He's looking at me.
I look away a little too fast.
We're at the cars, anyway, parked beside each other. It's about to be over.
"Man," he says, blowing a steam of breath out, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets. "I don't wanna do this." His nose is a little red from the cold. Why does that have to be cute?
I try to pull off a laugh. It's usually so easy with him. "I know," is all I can manage. I wanna say something more, but there's nothing to say, or maybe too much left unsaid to go ahead and try to start now.
"OK, well," he lifts his hands out of his pockets, and I walk into his arms. They envelop me like so many times before. He's warm and steady and strong, and I don't wanna leave. "I'll see you later," he says, sounding muffled, his head above mine.
"Yeah," I say, trying to burn this in my memory, as I back away. "I'll write you."
"Yeah," he says, looking me in the eye with a little sad smile, running his hand through his hair. This is too hard. I'm turning to unlock my car door when he says it- "I'll miss you."
I pause for a second. Sometimes you mean some words so much that it's hard to get them out when you most need to. "I'll miss you, too." I'm jumbling with my keys now, still with my back turned to him.
"Hey," he says, and I can tell he's closer. I pause, and feel my shoulders sag, as I turn around. I look at him tired and in love and wonder if it looks as obvious as it feels. His eyes take in my whole face like he's trying to memorize it. He moves in closer between our cars till I can feel his warmth again. I feel his arms around my waist and the cold of my car door against my back. His face is so close; this feels like a dream, but he looks down into my eyes, and I see a hint of a smile on his face, like he's waited for this, as his own eyes drift down to my lips. His hand is at my cheek now, moving down to my jaw, cradling the back of my neck, his rough thumb gentle on my face. I'm smiling now, and I can't help it.
His eyes are on mine, and his lashes are so long. When he leans in and presses his lips against mine, it's like coming home.
Finally.
11:51pm. 9.16.17.
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| would like to clarify that this is, in fact, fiction lol |
