Really? Oh, Me Too.

I sat in front of him and dipped a strawberry in the fountain on the table. “Hey.” I offered it up as casually as I could, but the strain was too obvious for me to lie to myself and say it hadn’t shown through. I notice he noticed, but pretend everything was fine with us. Over the entire break he hadn’t talk to me at all. He was isolating himself and it scared the hell out of me.
He could be hurting silently. He could be relapsing. He could be lying and not hate me.
He couldn’t mean that. He couldn’t relapse. He couldn’t hurt silently, not on my watch.

“Hi.” His voice sounded unused and...bare? He didn’t sound okay. His palms kept rubbing on his slacks. I missed him. He was my brother in a sense…my unrequited love, in another. Those eyes of his finally dared to catch mine, if only for a second or really not even that. Seemingly, a moment so short that no word could categorize it and I missed it. I needed him to glance just one more time and I could breathe. Instead of saying anything right away, I fiddled with his tie and relaxed into the silence, letting myself kind of zone out, kind of think of what to say, kind of wonder if we were going to be okay.

“How ya been?” That’s a good place to start. Good job, me.

“Fine. You?”

“I got dumped yesterday, but we still came here together. Not my idea.” I shrug and continue. “I’m so over it. I might bump a star.”

He chuckles a little. “No one says that.” I smile at his laugh, but the mood starts to die off. “Really?” I shift my gaze from the tie to his adorable, hopeful expression and back.

“Ya gotta get over shit real quick in this life or the world will chew you up and spit you out before you can ask why.” He meets my eyes, this time for longer.

“I haven’t gotten over you and I think it hurts, but I also know I wouldn’t change my mind about you over a fickle thing like pain.” He reaches out for my hand and I can’t stop myself I’m clutching his. Everyone could see this and anyone who’s got a problem can fuck themselves because this has been three difficult years in the making.

They say opposites attract but-…he’s like a missing part of me. So why do we attract?

Notes

I already have chapters lined up, so hold tight.