Will & Indie

16.

"I'm always gonna love you."

"I'm always gonna love you, too."

- Sebastian & Mia, La La Land

Will ignored the ache buried in his heart, trying to push all the things that had gone bad so far that week and focus on the good: he was about to see his love again. He would finally get up the courage to share his poetry with someone, and he was elated that that person would be Indie.

Will had stolen a small bundle of slightly wilted orange marigolds from his mother's garden, which he hid in his oversized coat pocket. He was happy that the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds. He took a few deep breaths in and out in an attempt to calm his nerves, the scent of dying leaves hanging heavy in the air.

Will waited semi-patiently by the bench that he and Indie sat on during their first date, which felt as if it were forever ago while simultaneously feeling like just yesterday. Time tended to play funny tricks on the mind like that.

Indie appeared in the distance and Will couldn't help but smile. He saw the corners of her mouth upturn as her gaze locked in on Will. She began running toward him, pulling him in the world's biggest embrace. Will lifted Indie up, spinning her around, which made her laugh.

"I missed you," Indie said once both of her feet were back on the ground.

"I missed you more than I'd like to admit," Will replied, gently picking up Indie's hand and kissing it. "I barely slept, I was so nervous for this meetup."

Indie tilted her head. "Will, there's no reason for you to be nervous. It's just me." She reminded him.

Will nodded. "I know... but we may need to sit, to ensure that I don't faint." He laughed awkwardly.

Indie put her arm around Will as they sank down comfortably on the bench. "There you go, big guy." She patted him on the back. "Now, what could possibly be so nerve-wracking that it was worth losing sleep over?"

Will blushed. His blue eyes were more focused on the grassy ground than on his girlfriend. "Well, I remember you told me that you wanted to be the first to hear my poetry." He cleared his throat. "So, basically, in my Creative Writing class, we had to write a poem about something we're passionate about... except we have to present them in front of our entire class tomorrow." He sighed. "I tried finding a poem I'd already written to use, but they all felt too... vulnerable. Like, if I read them aloud to my peers, I'd feel as if I was being held at gunpoint by everyone in the room."

"Morbid analogy, but I get it." Indie smiled sympathetically. She placed a hand on Will's arm and rubbed it gently, waiting patiently for him to continue.

"Anyway... I've written draft after draft, but I couldn't seem to find that balance between feeling too vulnerable about my writing and writing about something I'm actually passionate about, you know?" Will scratched behind his neck. Indie nodded. "So, last night, during one of my creative frenzies, Alice came into my room and, among other things, asked why I didn't just write my poem about you."

Will finally got up the courage to look into Indie's deep brown eyes. Indie's face grew redder by the second.

"You wrote your passion poem about me?" Indie remarked, her tone soft and childlike.

Will let out an exhale as he nodded. "I hope that's not too cheesy."

Indie smiled. "I don't think it's cheesy at all," she promised.

Will examined Indie's face, trying to find any kind of discrepancy in her expression that hinted at her insincerity, but he found none. He nodded, mostly to motivate himself to pull out his leather-bound journal and tiny bouquet. He graciously passed the marigolds to Indie. As he opened his poetry book to the correct page, he missed the moment when Indie's face fell as she held the slightly wilted marigolds in her hand.