I'll Be Here

            “BEEEEEEEP” I heard the dial tone as I waited for Jason to answer. I took a shuddering breath, not sure what I would even say when he answered. A part of me hoped he wouldn’t.

            “Hello?” I heard his hesitant voice and I couldn’t help but smile.

            “It’s me,” I coughed, unsure of how to start. “Louis.”

            “Why are you calling?” I could hear the hurt in his voice and I just wanted to erase it all.

            “I know it’s been a month, just let me explain,” I paused. “I got scared,” my voice began to crack as I thought of the reason.

            “Why? You know I love you.”

            “And I love you, it’s just-“ I choked on the words.

            “What is it Louis?”

            “Just give me a moment to explain,” I cleared my throat and the lump began to form as I started my story.

            It was a bleak day in New York. I remember we had just had a huge drenching of snow the previous week and the sidewalks had become covered in that disgusting brown slush from the huge amounts of cars driving through each day. White snow had become a rarity already and I hated it. The temperatures were freakishly cold and I had bundled up in multiple layers of wool and my draping scarf my mum had knit for me the Christmas before.

            I was making my way home down Bleaker St, head down as I maneuvered through the slush in my huge boots. As I got to the corner I saw a man in front of me slip on the ice, dropping all of his groceries.

            Without hesitation I bent to pick over a box of Fruit Loops that had landed near my feet. As I handed it to him, our eyes connected. His emerald eyes pierced mine as his cheeks rose into a dimpled smile.

            “Thanks,” he said. I noticed his accent right away. I didn’t meet many other English boys here in New York.

            “No problem mate,” I returned his warmth.

            “English?” he questioned, as I continued to help him pack his groceries back into his bag.

            “Yeah, Doncaster,” I nodded. We finished up and I handed back one of his bags now full again with fruit and vegetables, smiling up at him, as he was a few inches taller.

            “Well Doncaster, you have a great smile, I’m from Cheshire, myself,” he remarked, forcing a blush to my cheeks.

I thanked him and began to walk away down Mercer to my flat, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Hey,” I stopped. “Whatcha doin’ tomorrow?”

I shook my head, nothing. Tomorrow was an ordinary Friday for me, meaning wine and my telly.

            “Well, I’ll be here, at the corner of Bleecker and Mercer, tomorrow at 7. If you want to meet up, I’ll be waiting right here,” he smiled a cheeky smile and began to turn.

Just as I thought he had gone, he turned back. “My name’s Harry by the way, in case there are two guys waiting for you,” he winked, then continued back down the street.

I stood there in shock for a few seconds before gathering my senses and continuing down the streets to my flat. As soon as the door shut I ran to my bed and collapsed. Then I immediately sunk my head into my hands, I had barely said a word, I probably seemed so dumb. Harry. I said to myself. What a cute name. He was so handsome too, curly hair and what seemed like a fit body. Not to forget his gorgeous eyes. I sighed, looking forward to the next day immensely, I quickly fell asleep.