A way away

5. Closer when I fall

I woke up with a well-deserved headache.

"Fuuuck", I groaned, getting out of bed.

I went to my little bathroom in my little wooden cottage and brushed my teeth, before going to the kitchen to drink a glass of water and take a couple of pain killers. I used to be able to drink and then be up and about as usual the day after; I was clearly not twenty anymore.

It had been pleasant, though. The gentle swimming in my head. The warmth of the summer evening. There had been the never-ending conversation with my brother, and-

I sputtered the water out. Shit. The pale man! I had met the pale man! At the lighthouse! And I had talked to him! Well, I had said 'I'm going up the lighthouse' or something and he had said nothing, but it still counted, right?

I made a breakfast of toast with butter and thick slices of local cheese with a glass of orange juice, my favourite hangover food, then tried to go about my Saturday in a haze. The everlasting sun was high up in the sky, providing an unusual warmth even for summer. I went to the lighthouse, walked around a little, went to the grocery store to buy some things, did some markings.

And then, when it was time to go check the lighthouse for the evening, something held me back.

Maybe, he will be there same time tonight. Due to me and Madara's shenanigans, I had been about two hours later than usual for my daily evening check. Maybe, if I was two hours late today again...

I went home and as I went back two hours later, my heart was pounding. I tried to tell myself that it didn't matter, really, that I was just curious and desired to be friendly. But there was no denying it; I was desperate for him to be there.

And if I had the slightest doubt about this, it became crystal clear by the way my heart plummeted when he wasn't there. The disappointment was as bitter as the whiskey I'd drunk last night.

From then, I kept to the lighthouse two hours later than my normal time every night in the hope of catching him. This meant my bedtime was also postponed, meaning I was a bit grumpier than usual with the children in my class.

But unbeknown to me, the reason why I didn't see him again was that he, on his part, had started to go to the lighthouse earlier as he had heard me saying that was my usual time, in the hope of catching me, which meant we cross-passed each other.

One day, after about two weeks of being deadly tired during the day, I decided to stop. That it was ridiculous to perform so much worse at work because of a man I didn't know.

So on the Friday exactly two weeks after I had seen him, I went to the lighthouse at my normal time. It was at dusk, the sky a soft orange with purple clouds contrasting it nicely. The air was dry but fresh after some heavy rain that afternoon. There was a warm breeze causing the grass growing in the sand to rustle...

And there was a figure standing at the lighthouse, looking at the sunset, his palm over a crack in the lighthouse wall.

I was shocked to see him there. Speechless. Fuck! I had at least made some effort during these past two weeks when I had hoped to see him, but now I was in my usual grey hoodie and black jeans I always wore to check on the lighthouse. I hadn't even washed my hair! I considered putting it up in a ponytail to hide the worst of it, but for some reason, I decided against it.

I went up to him slowly, then stood next to him. He turned slightly to look at me. I looked out on the sunset. On the surface, I hoped I was calm, but inside, I was burning. My heart was pounding so hard, it hurt.

"Hi", I said softly.

He was quiet for a while, and I remembered he was a foreigner. What if he didn't understand the language? That would be ridiculous though, since he was the local doctor. But then, he spoke.

"Hi."

He had an accent I couldn't quite place, but it suited his dark voice amazingly. I blushed.

We didn't say anything, just stood next to one another, a polite distance apart.

"I'm going to check on the lighthouse", I said.

I went and did so, and then, when I came down, he had once more gone. 

It became our thing. Every evening, at the exact same time, I went to the patch of sand next to the lighthouse where he already stood, waiting. I said hi, he said hi. We stood for half an hour or so, watching the sunset or the rain or whatever weather the ocean had in store for us that day. Then, I said I would go up into the lighthouse, and when I was done with my checks, he had gone.

Then we started over again the next day.

Each time I walked through the soft sand to the lighthouse, I felt a jolt of happiness that grew the closer I came to my goal. We never spoke more than saying hello and me saying I was going up to check on the lighthouse, until one evening, when we had already stood looking out over the ocean for a while.

"You know I don't bite, right?" he asked, looking at me.

I jerked as he spoke; I was so surprised. His accent was still there, but he spoke with a confidence that I liked. It contrasted my shy personality nicely.

"I think so", I whispered, looking down with a blush.

"Good", he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

At that moment, I fell for him. I had been obsessed before, but right then I fell head over heels for him. And when I fell for him, he moved one step closer to me, so we were only a hand's length apart.

And we added that part to our routine. He would ask if I knew he didn't bite. I would say that I thought so. He would say good. I would fall. And he would move closer. I had never been so happy. We kept at it for a couple of weeks in total.

Until one day, he stopped coming.