28 , nostalgic collision

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nostalgic collision
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"what took so long?" he said in a monotonous tone, as if annoyed. taken aback, i see a man in black slacks with a matching vest layered over a white-button down shirt cuffed to the top of his forearms. his dark hair that hung in a parted bowl-cut with the edges buzzed covered the side profile of his gaze that stared at the wall across from where his back was leaned up against the other.

arms crossed with one foot resting where his back laid, all i could do was freeze. the stature and voice, the hair and ivory skin-it couldn't be.

"was i not clear enough for you-" the same pale gray eyes that i remembered looking into as i took the change from his hand were staring back at me again. the only face i ever saw out of the ocean of other faces that always passed me by was standing in front of me again.

nostalgia hit me like a truck as we stood there for what felt like an eternity, questioning if our eyes were actually telling the truth. the actual question was-did we trust what we saw?

memories of us living in his small, but always pristinely clean place flooded in like a hurricane. sure it wasn't much, but to me, it was home. oh, what i would do to go back and relive those memories of living with him again-but maybe this time, stop the fire from happening so i never had to hear the word goodbye fall from his lips while flames surrounded us ever again.

i didn't know whether to run up and hug him, ask whether it was really him or not, or just stay frozen in place until he made the first move.

but i never relished in the thought of having to choose what option i should take standing in front of the man i've been wanting to see again after all these years either-i guess now, i'm just spoilt for choice.

𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑰𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬 ☙ 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍Where stories live. Discover now