'I sit and watch you reading with your head low.'
The breeze was soft. heavy. but soft. My head pounded. I looked out the window. I'm fine, it's okay, I'm fine. I exhaled. Breathe in. Breathe deep. Breathe through. Breathe out. My dark eyes bored into the intense view. It was ethereal. Some part of me craved to be out there. To feel the cold air in contact with my wounded skin. To feel free. I adjusted my position. Not possible. My eyes shut. Savior complex by phoebe bridgers plays.
My gaze shifted to the right side. The long walkway of the train was dim. I looked around. Old people. Young people. Babies . The variety sat in different columns of the train. Each seat was a two seater and most seats were filled. I narrowed my eyes at the empty seat beside me. I sighed and turned my head back to face the window. Another 9 hours to home. My heart ached thinking about it. I missed home. It waited there for me. They waited there for me.
After minutes of staring out the window, I turned my gaze back to the scattered small crowd. Some slept. Some talked. Some laughed. They were all the same people. Until I noticed that the seat opposite on my right wasn't the two girls anymore. It sat a man. He read a book. I squinted my eyes trying to figure what it was. I couldn't tell. I flickered my gaze back to him. His side view. His jawline was sharp. His hair a dark shade of blond. It made me more curious when I'd realised what the book was. It was colored fully grey and titled 'Grief is the greatest menace.' It would've sound sketchy if I didn't know what it was about. But I did. All too well.
It was a romance story, a sad poetic one. It was about a girl. She suffered cancer. Stage four. She would die by the end of the year. On November 13th. Her life would've been taken away. Completely. A guy named Gray was the only thing she held on to. He loved her no matter what. And he'd cry on every November 13th. He never dated anyone after, as his heart only truly belonged to the girl. I remember when that book was my anchor. The only thing I had when I felt hopeless. God damn the nostalgia this book does to me. This book-
My heart skipped a beat.
I felt the sudden weight of his stare on me.
I looked away. Damn it. I hated that feeling. I embarrassed myself. Again.
I slowly turned my head back for a slight glimpse to see if he was still staring at me.
He was.
'I think I've seen this film before, and I didn't like the ending'
I've known that in movies if you looked back, you'll either wind up dead. Or in love. Or friends. Or some stupid hopeless romantic thing. All fake. I wanted none. I deserved none.
But I still looked back.
Our gazes locked. I could discern his dark grey eyes. Locked with my dark brown ones.
Five seconds.
Ten seconds
I didn't want to be the first to break eye contact. He didn't either. The tension was crazy. He looked away first.
The end of my lips formed a small curve.
He snickered.
My eyes landed back on his book that was open and on his lap. Then I look away. He was about halfway there. I memorized that book from head to toe.
I assumed the boy was at the part where they're fighting.
Because he loves her. And she believes she doesn't deserve it.
'"You can't say that about yourself." Gray mumbles as his heart sank at every degrading word she says. Natasha closes her eyes once more as tears fall through her eyelids across her cheeks. She felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. "And I wouldn't marry me either!" She screams, falling to the ground as her heart ached with every sob.
My head pounded again. Headaches. Motion sickness. Had it been more than half an hour? I wouldn't know. I closed my eyes hoping it'll go away. It doesn't. I felt like throwing up, I held that shit back. I gripped anything I could to help me lessen the pain. It was an arm. A muscular one. Beside me.
I knew that in some way whatever I was doing right then could have been reported as molestation . But my head felt like hell. Like something was punching my head. Knocking it. Asking me to shut up and that I didn't deserve anything in life except endless pain. It clawed at the side of my head. A pulsing sensation. Hell it was throbbing.
I bite my lip. Migraines are losers. Asses. They come to you when you're fine. They ruin you. They embarrass you. They're endless.
I was still gripping that muscled hand.
I WAS STILL GRIPPING THAT FREAKING MUSCLED HAND.
PULL AWAY.
Pull away Cameron James Chen. Do that shit right.
PULL AWAY.
I didn't.
My head looked up. Oh god.
No.
No.
No.
No.
It was book boy.
He looked down at me. He smiled. The warmest smile. Ever. The ones they describe in books but never believe are real. God, that made my heart go crazy. I think I wasn't breathing anymore.
"Hello."
