Dragonflies

LEMON

Trains left stations in their minds as they stared at each other.

Recognition and remembrance; all gushing over them in five seconds.

"Oh, well, Harry. This is Delilah, the new History teacher", Taylor introduced.

And at that instant, the green eyed man thought that he didn't actually need the introduction for he had known her more than anyone present in the lounge.

"Umm, I'm gonna go. I have to prepare the study materials for the next class", the pale skinned girl said, before exiting the lounge faster than her feet could take her. Because her fears were confirmed, she had taken up a pace which was ferocious. To anyone who might just stand and look at her, it might look like that she was running. She was walking faster than a flame on a string.

But, the green eyed, curly haired man stood rooted to his place; the roof of his mouth so dry that they felt like Sahara desert, his eyes focusing on the ground but staring off into space, as he gulped ever so slightly.

"You okay? Did the new teacher knock you out of your senses?", it was Brendon who spoke, with a smug smile on his face.

"I--I'm gonna go", finally being able to form some coherent words to form a reason for his escape, he ran off, just as the speed of lightning from the sky to the ground.

History repeats itself; but does the tragedy in them had to repeat themselves too?

However, both of them were grateful that the other hadn't pointed out that they had known each other since time immemorial.

To Delilah, it felt like she had known him since before the stars were made.

To Mr. Styles, it felt like he had known her even before the dreams had settled themselves in the darkness of nights.

Delilah literally fell on her chair, her mind taking the pace of wind going back to times and going ahead of times. She had thought that she could get away from everything that particular night. But, just like every time, even this time, when one history found her, another one linked its arms with it to follow her.

She had thought she could have gone through this.

She needed to have a talk with Mr. Davis.

Sweat glistened on her forehead, even if the air conditioning was perfect, given the best ventilation possible.

She was overwhelmed. So much so that she had wanted to rock herself and cry her balls out. However, she struggled to keep herself together. She was now in responsibility of a few hundred students who looked up to her for their future. Therefore, she couldn't be reckless anymore.

In her initial appointments with a therapist, which was nothing she wanted, she would keep silent, keeping everything to herself. It wasn't her who had asked for an appointment anyways.

But lately, she would barely talk to the poor young man who had to check upon her during her sessions. She could say he was tired of her silence already; and even acting like they didn't ever know each other.

She hadn't wanted to make the man too worried or feel like she wasn't being a good therapist, because she had been trying her best to reach out for her. It was her who had been distant and pulled away her hand.

Probably that's how Mr. Davis got a hold of her.

One appointment, and she was in a chained mess of time now.

If only Amber had been a little more careful, she wouldn't be in a mess right now.

She had been to the therapy just twice; because she had never wanted to be vulnerable in front of anyone.