The Morning After

Prologue

 She takes my hand and starts to skip, dragging me behind her. It's snowing harder now, a light mist of snowflakes that stick to her eyelashes and take rest in her hair. The streetlights lining the sidewalk are the only illumination that we have, the only bit of light that lets us see each other. The brick buildings are dormant and all the cars are sleeping. No one is out, they're all tucked away in their warm houses in their warm beds, but I don't need those things. No, she is the only warmth I need. She makes everything so real, every breath she takes sounds like she has the world on her shoulders but she has no trouble lifting it, I've seen that. Her dark hair drapes down her back in a fairytale-like fashion and her smile is even brighter than the street lamps. If I had one request it would be to hold her tight until the sun came up in the morning, until the moon rose nights from now, until forever ends. She wouldn't think like that, though, she has never thought like that. 

 All she sees is a shy boy with awkward posture and charming words. I'm not like the others she has loved, they've all been big and muscular, something foreign to me. They've taken her on dates, they've had lots of money, they've been awful to her. Yet, she still loves them. 

 The classic story, this is. Don't we all encounter it: knowing we could be so much better for a person? I do not know whether or not she would ever let me into her life other than as her best friend, other than the boy that has always lived next door. 

 "Where are we going?" she laughs. 

 "Wherever you're taking me..." 

 "But if I don't know where I'm going, will you still come along?"

 I'm dreaming. I know it. This opportunity to tell her everything would never arise in reality. She's so close, yet so far. Her fingers entwine themselves perfectly in the spaces in between mine, her nose comes close to my face and her breath tickles my lips. I'm dreaming. I know it, but I'm not dreaming. 

 "Of course."

 She leans in, I lean in, but then she turns and starts to skip again. Her laughter echoing through the streets, bouncing off of the old bricks. These walls of bricks that have seen so many love stories, and now they will see one more.