padam - a jan peteh pov story

HEIGHT - 24.08.2019 - HANA POV

As the night had drawn to an end, Frankfurt had walked me back to my apartment, vowing that he would never make me walk through the bustling and threatening streets alone. In order to keep myself safe, I let him leave me at the front door to the block; he completely understood and wished me a good night, sweeping the stray hairs away from the front of my face and planting a small yet meaningful kiss on my forehead.

'You're so tall.' I looked up into his eyes, having to cock my neck back slightly to meet them.

'You might just be the only person who thinks that.' he sighed, and this confused me.

'I think you're just the right height.' I returned truthfully - I had always been short, and so a guy of Frankfurt's height suited me perfectly. He was at the right level to drape his arm over my shoulder, to gently press his lips over mine without having to close too large of a gap - which was exactly what he did before he whispered his goodbye and disappeared off onto the dimly lit streets of London.

It was then that I begun to wonder what his intentions were - he would be leaving just two days later - however I allowed these thoughts to pass on the same breath of wind that carried away the remnants of his touch.

It didn't really matter what his plan was, because I could never view him as a potential partner. I had always been clear that the perfect man would attend a nearby university and be there to spend a lot of quality time with me. Frankfurt fulfilled neither of these requirements, and appeared to only be looking for something to fill his time in England with.

Was it right to lead a man on for free malibu?

Soon enough, I would be too drunk to care, because it wasn't long before we met up again. Surely enough, just the next day, I sat tentatively at the end of the table, anticipating his entry to the bar. Each time I heard the click of the door, my eyes quickly shifted towards the figure of the person entering. I received some dirty looks from strangers as they wondered who I was searching for, however it was all worth it when he eventually joined me in the room, greeting me with a warm and wide smile.

'You're late.' I giggled as he flounced over to the table, having more of a spring in his step than I had seen on the previous two occasions.

'There's a time, now?' he asked lightheartedly, before positioning himself on the barstool next to me. I swivelled around so that we were both facing inwards; his hands rested on the table while mine shook a little beneath it.

'You've been here at 8PM both days.' I remarked, and his face crinkled in thought.

'Seriously? I'm not exactly the most punctual.' he commented, and I laughed a bit.

'You would never guess.' I shrugged.

'One of my friends back home, he's never on time. I look great next to him.' He looked a little pained as he said this, yet, seeing my face quickly become concerned, covered up the expression with a grin which I quickly gauged as fake. This was another reminder that I had truly no idea why he was here, and I didn't want to read into it for fear of upsetting him.

Sad people buy less drinks.

I didn't feel the need to flirt with him as much; he seemed genuinely happy to just be in my company without me making moves on him. It was strange to me to feel appreciated for just being there, given that most people my age would exchange alcohol for sex without taking the person they were hurting in the process into account. Part of me couldn't believe it, but I repressed this into the back of my mind, where it couldn't bother me.

We were able to speak a shocking amount without him even slipping a true detail about his life. There were only a few small scraps of information that he allowed me to have - the most noteable being that he had great interest in sociology. Aside from this, he seemed to be fairly typical, the anomaly being that he wasn't acting like a total douchebag.

'I want to give you my number.' he said suddenly. The randomness of the statement caused me to completely forget what I had said previously - it had probably been a question that he didn't want to answer.

'You won't tell me a single thing about you, yet you want me to have your number?' I questioned in disbelief. I was beginning to debate as to whether the person in front of me was even real; I wouldn't have been surprised to find that he didn't actually exist.

'You know I'm leaving tomorrow. But I still want to speak to you.' he explained briefly, before swiping my unlocked phone from the table and struggling to navigate to my contacts app. When he finally made it, it wasn't long before he had tapped his number into the available space.

This was the part where I really wanted to kick myself, because he didn't stop after filling out that box.

Nope, he began to name himself.

I struggled to contain my excitement as he pressed the letters on the keyboard. I then proceeded to grab the phone back before he could realise what he had done. His eyes widened quickly in stress as he figured out the cause for my sudden energy, and he struggled to manhandle the device back from my grasp.

Yet I didn't care. I only had one thought in my mind:

Who are you?

Sadly, my efforts were futile. I only caught sight of a 'J' before he won the scuffle, seizing the phone and deleting the letters.

There was nothing much more to note; after this moment, it felt like he was trying to keep his guard up, rather than just stay carefree. When I suggested that we bring the meeting to an end, I was forced to watch his face fall rapidly - upon seeing this, I tried to scrabble to piece the date back together, yet failed drastically.

'Let's just go.' he eventually conceded, standing up briskly and heading toward the door.

'I'm sorry if you didn't want to leave yet.' I caught him up, laying my hand on his arm. His expression lifted a little, and I decided to link his elbow with mine as we exited the bar.

The further we walked, the less tense he became, warming back up despite the cold temperatures of the British night.

'I'm going back home tomorrow.' he reminded himself - I was entirely sure that this statement was not meant to fall on my ears.

'It would be nice if you stayed longer.' I replied, a throwaway comment. It wasn't too far from the truth - I did enjoy speaking with him, yet I knew that it was pointless to waste any more time than this on a man I was never going to last with. Yet I filled the statement with so much emotion that even I could have believed it myself, had I been much more foolish and hopelessly romantic than I was.

Before long, my apartment block came into view, and I felt his presence intensify. 'You're right.' he sighed. Yet the words dissipated quickly into the atmosphere, and I left the conversation at that.

Within a minute, we had neared the door. The light inside was bright and inviting, yet his touch offered me much more comfort than the indoors ever could. As I unhooked my forearm from where it had been under his, I turned to greet his face. Various feelings swirled around in his mind, so prominent that I could almost see them myself.

He said nothing before kissing me fiercely, as though he knew it was the last time. His lips were firm and eager, determined to take in as much of me as he could, so that he could relive these moments again from the memories created. As his fingers embraced my cheeks, I pulled my arm around his back, to fully conceal any void that was left between us.

When he pulled away, there was still a roaring flame glinting in the corner of his eye.

'I'm going to miss you.' he put it simply. Remnants of a smile that had been full just hours ago graced his face, forming small yet noticeable dimples on either side of his expression.

'It's been nice to have you here.' I nodded, a formality. I felt very little towards him, yet was still obligated to treat him nicely - he had been nothing but sweet to me.

'You'll message?' he asked. I was able to choke out a positive response, despite knowing that I would not be doing anything of the sort. 'Goodbye, Hana.'

I waved delicately as he walked away, the mementos of our time together fluttering around my body like stray paper. Yet, as I opened the door, I made it clear that they were not welcome to follow me anymore. That after today, Frankfurt would be nothing more than the post-drinking headache I would rise with in the morning.