2 kids

Home again.

Ashley.

In the noise, slowly getting louder with each passing minute, I sit and do my work. I have school work to catch up with, papers for the competition to fill out, plan my classes and my schedule. Surrounded by noise like this, I can finally drown out my own thoughts.

People are pushing each other, some even yelling at complete strangers. But most of them just ignore each other, used to the busy life in New York. It's chaotic in here, unorganised and aggressive. I lock eyes with a couple staring at me for having a seat. I don't move or look away; I endure their deadly stares until they don't leave the café angry.

Trying my hardest to finish my work as soon as possible to leave, a voice brings me back to reality. A voice coming from above me, yet right next to me. In a low whisper way, making the raspy tone of it stand out even more. A voice gentle and clear, a voice so familiar to me that even after all this time sets butterflies off and makes me feel calm.

"Mind if I take a seat here?"

I slowly look up, meeting his gaze immediately. Those deep blue eyes, like the far stretching ocean. In that second our eyes lock, all the people around us vanish. Perhaps in a romantic way, perhaps not. I'm simply taken back by his presence. I wasn't expecting to meet him here, to interact with him again. Not this soon at least. I thought he'd keep his usual distance, continue living his life and successfully ignoring me.

I nod my head and move my things to the side. He places his drink on the table, both hands wrapped around the cup. I glance at it, rather at his hands for some reason. The rings still occupy his fingers, even the ones I gave him. I stare at it in a silent awe, too surprised to say anything.

He kept them. And he wears them.

"Still matcha addicted I see," I tease him after long seconds. The typical green drink in his hands, yet all I can think of are the rings I gifted him. The memory of that day interlocks with reality, and I feel a thousand of emotions erupt in my chest.

"Once a matcha addict, always a matcha addict." He flashes me one of his legendary smiles.

My eyes wander back to his hands. I almost reach out and take a hold of his hand, intertwining our fingers again. Instead I collect my pens and pencils, pretending to be cleaning up my mess.

I know he's observing me the whole time. I can feel his eyes on me, watching my every move. I've even fallen in love with that habit of his, with the loving way he gazes at his closest people. He watches everyone around him closely, sometimes a little too much, yet his gaze is different each time. No details go unnoticed to his eye, but now I wish he wouldn't notice the fluster across my face.

"What are you doing?" A casual question as if bumping into a friend. Not an ex-lover, not someone most people try to avoid. We never agreed on staying friends. Hell, we never had that conversation. We just... broke up. And now Alex is acting as if we're friends, speaking to me in that casual tone he addresses everyone with. Not the flirtatious tone I'm so used to, and miss so much. Am I thankful for his acting or am I trying hard to spot something more to it?

"Just some school stuff and organising my schedule."

"Busy?"

"Not as much as you," I say with a soft smile as I still collect my things. "But yeah, it's been a bit hectic lately."

My schedule could never meet his, no matter how busy my life would get. He's the one who's always on the road or in the studio, giving up sleep more than ever.

I want to initiate a conversation, but it's impossible. No words come out of my throat, and it feels like I've lost the ability to speak. I've forgotten how natural it always felt to sit in utter silence with him. We would do that after long and tiring days, and eventually one of us would speak. But while we spoke, the silence never felt awkward.