when you met me

agreement

Agreement

Dud walked on a brisk morning before work. The sun was just coming up, and he liked the air at dawn. It cleared his head. He walked on the pavement of the bridge that happened to be significant to him. It also happened to have the best sunrise view.

He stopped walking just before their spot to lean on the bars and watch the sun peek over the clouds, cutting through the chill of the night. “Well, this is awkward.” Mara said, standing a foot away from him. Dud snapped up to stand. “Hi.” He replied.

“I wanted to see the view. For inspiration.” She explained, leaning on the bar next to him. Dud swallowed and leaned on the bar again. They both silently watched the sunrise for a minute before Dud asked, “So, do you still come here a lot?”

Mara’s mouth twitched up slightly. “It’s the best spot in this damned city, isn’t it?” Dud laughed and nodded. Her hair had changed again. It was its natural colour, its natural curl, to her shoulder. Only the tips were dipped in red, and she had a fringe for the first time since she was seven.

She looked at Dud, making him turn slightly red at her catching him staring. “I have two strikes. Another one and I’ll get charged or worse.” Her voice wasn’t regretful, just nonchalant. “So I guess I’ll have to keep a look out for coppers next time I do something illegal.” She laughed and pushed Dud’s arm at his fallen face. “Joking.”

“I miss you.” He let out, “As a friend. As like… Family, you know? I don’t have anyone else like you.” Dud shrugged in sadness. Mara put her hand on his. “I know, I miss you too.”

“I think it’s time we put all of it behind us. Hang out like we used to.” Dud said, a pleading tone in his voice. “I’ll make you a deal,” Mara said, “If we’re both too busy for anything else, we’ll meet up here at least once a week.” She smiled, and Dud returned the favour.

“Deal.” They shook hands, and Dud pulled Mara’s hand into a desperate hug of everything he hadn’t told anyone since they’d split. Mara’s hands clutched into his shoulder blades with all of the emotions she’d repressed to save face with her ‘friends’.

They stood there for almost five minutes, making up for lost time. Mara buried her face into Dud and Dud rested his head in her hair.  

Twice, maybe three times a week they’d meet at their spot on the bridge and talk. Mara talked about the progression of her band, amazed that she’d forgotten how well Dud listened. Dud talked about what it was really like to be a policeman. Not as glamorous, and a lot more work. They slipped back into themselves when they were alone, and drifted into their personas as they walked away from one another.