I hope the moon is okay

126 4 9
                                    

~Wille's pov ~

I can remember the night we first saw each other. He arrived in front of me, the most beautiful boy I had ever seen. He gave me a warm look, the first I'd seen towards me in a long time. We didn't know each other, yet whatever was going on, I still wanted to get closer to him, to see him closer, to hear his voice. The party was in full swing around me, but I only saw him. And I think he only saw me. We were suddenly alone in the world when he began to speak.

"-Are you more of a moon or sun type??
- What ?! "

I didn't understand right away, and at first I thought that he was drunk. But when he got even closer, he didn't smell ofa alcohol. He smelled really good, something sweet, and his eyes revealed that he was in full possession of his means.

"Are you more of a moon or sun type?" he repeats, word for word.

"It all depends on what that means!"

He had looked at me for a quite long time, which normally had the effect of making me flee immediately, yet I remained there, hanging on his lips. His gaze moved from my eyes to my feet, passing by my stomach, my legs. He looked concentrated.

" - I would say that you are more of the moon type!
- Why this ??
- You look sad! "

He shut me up suddenly. No one ever noticed that kind of thing, since I smiled all the time. No one seems to notice my pale face, my dark circles and my red, tear-swollen eyes. My smile is much more comfortable for everyone. He said without changing his tone, as natural as ever.

"But you're pretty !"

Then he was gone, with one last look, one last smirk, he left, leaving behind his scent and me, completely lost. I didn't think I would see him again one day.
But in the days after my curiosity took over, I suddenly wanted to know everything about him. He who in 10 seconds had been able to read in my eyes what no one had seen for years.

I found his Instagram through a tag on a friend's post, and we started following each other. None of us had ever sent a message. But I liked his posts, and he liked mine. Eventually, we started posting random, completely rubbish stuff, just so the other one could see it. I was aware of something between us, and for some reason, I was convinced that he was too. We had created our language, through stories and posts on the networks.
He once posted a photo of a football field. I was surprised to see that he added a caption.

"I hope the moon is okay."

I found myself smiling in front of my phone, at first finding this sentence so simple and childish. Then I made a connection I didn't expect. I hope the moon is okay. I was quick to post a photo of a lake. I hesitated for many minutes before deciding. My fingers slid across the keyboard, writing the sentence that felt most right.

"The sun burned my skin."

My trembling thumb pressed the send button. It was posted.
He was the first to like my post, like every time.

The rest of the day had been difficult, I went from crying to laughing to anxiety. I was in one of my depressive phases. I held my breath. I was trapped in my head. Again. Tired, I went to bed, but like every time things weren't going well, I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned in bed, taking off and putting on my clothes, going from shaking to sweating. I needed help, as always, but as always I was alone. In the shadows of my large bedroom. I needed light.
Mechanically I looked for my phone on the bedside table. I opened his contact, and was going to send him a message, for the first time. I wrote a message then deleted it, wrote another which didn't suit me either. After a dozen attempts without results, I gave up. I threw my phone across the room before crawling back under my duvet, curled up in a ball. Like every night, I ended up falling asleep at dawn, my cheeks soaked with tears.

_______________________________________

Hiii :)

I just wanted to say that I'm french so my English isn't perfect I'm sorry for the eventual mistake in the text please don't judge me :')

Thank you !

🩵🌕

EclipseWhere stories live. Discover now