Shawn's Melachonly

Chapter 1: Somethings are Just Not Meant to Be

As I sat across from her in the cosy din of the café, I realized it had been too long since I had indeed seen her, truly allowed myself to look at her not just as a friend, a confidante, but through the eyes of an artist—capturing, cherishing every nuance of her being.

Something was enchanting in the gentle curve of her cheek, a softness that spoke of warmth and comfort. Her eyebrows, with their precise tilt, were like the delicate brushstrokes of a masterpiece, framing the depth and sincerity in her eyes. And her smile—oh, her smile—it was a soft sweep of serenity that could calm the most tumultuous storms within me.

The day I recognized the depth of my feelings for her, I marked a turning point. It was like a veil had been lifted, revealing colours and shades of love I hadn't known existed. Though years have cascaded like gentle autumn leaves since that moment, those emotions remain as vivid and as intense as the day they first bloomed within me.

We grew up together, our lives intertwining like the branches of two trees planted side by side. We shared everything—the wild, unbridled play in the backyard, the whispered secrets under the stars, the laughter, and the tears. Our bond was so profound, so intricate, that it transcended the mere definition of friendship. We were like siblings, yet within our connection, there were layers of shades of love that were as complex as they were beautiful.

And now, here we were, amidst the hustle and bustle of a quaint café, with its clinking cups and the quirky waitress whose smile seemed to reflect our happiness. Time had woven its tapestry around us, but at this moment, in this place, it felt as if it had paused, allowing us to savour the depth of what we shared.

As I looked at her, honestly looking at her, I realized she was not just a part of my past but the essence of my present and the hope of my future. In her presence, amidst the gentle chaos of the café, I found a profound sense of belonging, a realization that love, in all its forms, was the most beautiful art of all.

My heart beats with an excitement that's both exhilarating and daunting. As I shift in my seat, I feel a slight dampness, an echo of the nervous anticipation coursing through me. Today stands as a beacon in the timeline of my life, a day I've mentally rehearsed countless times. It's the day I lay my heart on the line to see where her feelings intersect with mine finally.

In this bustling café, we've carved out a little island of tranquillity. It's just her and me, and the world seems to pause for us. Even Lay's crisps, usually a mindless snack, feel like an obstacle in this moment of truth. Her gaze meets mine, and it feels like she's read a page from the diary of my soul, understanding the significance of the words I'm poised to share. Her look is intense, a deep dive into the essence of who I am, and it's magnetic. There's an earnestness in her attention, a look of pure fascination that I find myself drawn to like a moth to a flame. I yearn for her to see me with this same depth and enthusiasm.

This is more than just a moment; it's a turning point. I stand at the threshold of possibility, ready to step into a new chapter, our chapter. The optimism in my heart outweighs the uncertainty, painting the future in hues of hope and potential. As I gather the courage to speak, I'm buoyed by the thought that this isn't just about revealing my feelings; it's about opening the door to a future where we can explore this journey together. With each beat of my hopeful heart, I'm ready to embrace whatever comes next.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I felt a surge of determination. It was now or never.

"Candice, I need to share something with you," I started, my voice slightly hoarse, betraying the depth of my emotions. Today was the day, the moment of truth. "I've wanted to tell you for so long that—"

But she raised a hand, halting my words with a gentle gesture. "Before you go any further," she began, a subtle hesitation flickering in her eyes, "something is pressing on my heart that I need to say, too."