Dear Apollo

CHAPTER 1: The Wooden Box

CHAPTER 1: The Wooden Box

***

It was a rainy afternoon. The cold breeze caressing my skin, even behind the thick walls of the café. The sound of water droplets drumming against my ears, the windows having a film of distortion covering them blurring the world beyond. My thoughts wandered. Nikolai, who asked to meet me here at 2 o'clock, afternoon, wasn't here yet. I checked my watch, it was already 2:10. It was only 2:10 yet the heavens above looked like it was already transitioning into the evening hours. I tapped my foot repeatedly on the polished almond wood floor.

Why did he ask to meet me here?

I sighed, in deep thought. Nothing to do. Staring out the café—or rather, out the green door I came in through just ten minutes ago. Did something happen on his way here?

I was just about to take out the cellphone from my pocket to call him, and ask where he was, so I could pick him up, when a familiar figure ran through the door, closing up his umbrella, shaking off the drops of water that still clung to it. The same black curly hair, disheveled. He was wearing brown pants, and a white polo with a green sweatshirt over it. He still hasn't changed his glasses from when we first met, nor has he straightened his hair like he told me he wanted to before. Of course, nothing happened. I overthink too much.

A small chuckle escaped my lips. His personality hasn't changed either, everything about him was still the same Nikolai from two months ago. He spotted me through the crowd and ran over to me with...

A box. A wooden box.

"Did you wait long?"

I looked up into his black eyes. They were marbled, flecks of gold scattered throughout them. It resembled the light shining through a forest's canopy, it felt like I was taken back.

Back to simpler times.

"No, I didn't."

He smiled and sat down in the chair in front of me, placing the wooden box on the table.

"Have you been well, Apollo?"

He was smiling, yet a cold air surrounded him. I pretended not to notice as I averted my gaze from his. He beamed at me so innocently.

"Yes, I have. What about you?"

"That's good to hear. I'm fine, by the way." He replied, and took a deep breath. " —What about Venice?" The cold air surrounding him grew stronger after he said those words, I froze. Would he be happy to hear about Venice?

He waited, patiently. I was reluctant to tell him, but his eyes looked at me, anticipating an answer.

"We're doing fine. We moved into our own apartment." He nodded. A long silence overcame us, I should have known this was going to happen.

I shouldn't have told him.

"—Do you want something to eat or drink?" He pointed to the menu in front of me, "my treat." He continued.

I stared at the menu, everything was expensive. I didn't want him to spend money on someone he just broke up with two months ago. I shook my head.

"No, it's fine, I'll pay for it. What about you? Do you want anything?"

He quickly widened his eyes and refused my offer. He leaned back in his seat, quickly calming down. "It's the least I could do, for making you come here and all—a-and it's not like I don't want to accept anything from you! It's just—"

"I understand." I chuckled, cutting him off before he got even more nervous, he didn't need to do all this for me. I grinned, an expression of relief took over his face as he stood down.