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The next Monday, Nicholas and his team went to the hospital again. One of his colleagues was holding a list of the rooms they would visit.
When they were right outside the door A256, the woman holding the flute opened the door A258, clearly not the one he was waiting for. But either way, he continued following his colleagues, throughout their time to the hospital until his shift ended.
Curiosity got the best out of him, when passing A256 again, he could not help but knock softly on the door. He got no answer, so he took the handle between his fingers and shyly pushed the door open.
No pale girl, no older woman in an armchair by the window. But most importantly, no glowing brown eyes. Those eyes he missed all week in the "Brown Aroma", the eyes he got used so much. He never felt such a connection for a complete stranger. He had seen her more times than he could count on his fingers—at the café, at the hospital, even on the streets. They never talked, they never introduced to one another, but somehow they knew each other.
Realization hit him like a train, death had won again. Pain spread like a plague, infecting the brunette beauty.
From that day on, and for more than three months, he had not seen her, anywhere. His thoughts, though, were often filled with these soft brown eyes and chocolate brown locks.
On a random Thursday in January, a so-called cold month, Nicholas entered "Brown Aroma" to get his usual coffee, and maybe, he would sit there to enjoy it, rather than run straight to work.
His reason for that day was sitting to a familiar plush armchair by the window. Black coat around her shoulders, a cup of cappuccino in front of her along with a worn-out journal.
With his coffee in his hand, he settled on the table closest to hers. She lifted her gaze from the journal, locking their eyes. A soft tug on her lips had his whole chest squeezing.
He had missed those glances.
Yet, he could not muster the courage to go sit next to her, introduce himself. Even if he did, what would he say? He sure wanted to tell her how sorry he felt about her loved one. To tell her that it was going to be okay. But he did not want to lie. It wasn't going to be okay. Loss can be brutal—a feeling you can't escape. You live with it. You live. That's what he wanted to say to her—to live!
Lost in his thoughts, he did not realize that he had to be in his office in less than 10 minutes. With a last glance back to the brunette, focused on what she was writing in her journal, he stormed out of the café.
To his luck, the rain had gotten heavier.
Nicholas instinctively opened his dark blue umbrella, preparing for the impending rainfall. However, when he raised it above his head, a sharp gust of wind blew, causing the fragile umbrella to twist and bend.
Cursing, he shoved the umbrella in the trash can outside the "Brown Aroma".
"You can have mine. My Uber will be here shortly!" Spoke a voice from behind him. He slowly turned around, only to come face-to-face with a so familiar brunette.
"No, it's okay. I wouldn't wish to leave you here in the rain." He instinctively answered. His hair now getting to his eyes, as the rain was pouring down onto his head.
"I insist, you looked like you were in a hurry. You can return it after, here in brown Aroma, and I'll come to get it."
He liked her voice, it was soft, almost angelic. It suited her, for sure.
"Maybe we could share, till your Uber arrives," he proposed, hoping she would agree.
She nodded, and he got under her already opened umbrella. From this close, he could see the faint freckles on the bridge of her nose, her long eyelashes, and even get high on her sweet cinnamon scent.
"I'm Nicholas."
She seemed to be blushing. "Evelyn...It's nice to meet you, Nicholas!" she said, shaking his hand.
She gave him a shy smile. He wanted to tell her that when she smiled, her eyes smiled too. But that would be a weird thing to say to someone after meeting them for the first time.
Evelyn's Uber arrived, she left, leaving her umbrella to Nicholas.
The next day, at the "Brown Aroma" they sat together. And the day after that. Even for the rest of the days.
It took them one week to hold hands, three weeks to taste each other's lips. And two years to decide they wanted to share their lives till death do them apart.
The two souls met, became one. Softening the pain and the storms within.
When the void inside of her would swallow the happiness she felt. He kept her close, "Your eyes are like stars, crying diamonds." he'd whisper.
When his days were dark and felt like an abyss, she was the light guiding him. They completed each other in many different ways.
They taught each other how to live again.
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The end.
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—
If you're reading this, I love you!🫶
Thank you so much for reading "When they Met".
This little story is the start point for me, just to test the waters here!
Many, many more books are to come.(Longer ones, lol)!
Have a great day!
-Desp.
YOU ARE READING
When They Met
Romance[A VERY SHORT STORY] In which their lives are more intertwined than they thought. They just have not met. Yet.
