FORGET-ME-NOT | kth

Chapter 4- Your Name

The person made their way to the deck, settling into a chair, completely oblivious to his presence.

He mulled over various escape strategies, wanting to avoid the discomfort of the situation. Despite his efforts to remain unnoticed, he couldn't help but feel trapped.

Summoning his courage, he started to move, intending to leave. However, he froze upon hearing soft sobs. It was clear she was crying, tears streaming down her cheeks and staining her white dress.

As much as he tried to ignore it, he couldn't. The sight of her tears pained him in a way he couldn't explain.

This time, he knew he had to do something.

As he approached her, his nerves reached their peak. Each step felt heavy, and despite the cold atmosphere, beads of sweat began to form on his skin.

Standing just across the table from her, he observed that she hadn't yet noticed his presence.

"Hey," he uttered, the word breaking the silence and startling both of them simultaneously. Her gaze met his briefly before she quickly averted her eyes, suddenly self-conscious. With a gentle motion, she wiped away her tears, her hesitation palpable as she struggled to meet his gaze again.

"Hey," she replied in a whisper, her voice sounding different from what he expected—perhaps affected by crying.

As he settled into the chair opposite her, he noticed her head still hung low.

"Are you okay?" he asked, immediately regretting the question. Of course, she wasn't okay. Clearing his throat, he tried again, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'm okay," she responded, her voice still marked by the cracks of emotion. Leaning slightly forward, he insisted, "No, you're not."

Their eyes met once more, and the intensity of the eye contact sent a surge of emotions through him, making him feel almost overwhelmed.

"It's... it's just... it is..." She struggled, her words trailing off in the weight of her emotions, and he sensed the depth of her pain.

"It's okay. Please don't cry," he murmured, the words feeling inadequate even as he spoke them. He knew that sometimes, letting tears flow could be cathartic, a way to release pent-up emotions and find solace, but he didn't know how to convey this to her. He wished he could offer more than just words.

She nodded silently, her head bowed in anguish, and he realized the limitations of his ability to comfort her. How could he ask her to open up about her troubles when they barely knew each other? The gap between them felt insurmountable at that moment.

Fumbling for a way to offer some form of comfort, he tapped on the half-drunk beer can beside him.

He extended the half-empty can to her, a small offering amid her distress. "If this helps in any way, please have it," he offered, half-expecting her to refuse. However, he was surprised when she took the can and drank from it without hesitation.

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken emotions. He sensed that it might be best to give her space, to allow her the time she needed to process her thoughts and emotions.

"Maybe I shouldn't intrude. Take your time to clear your mind," he said softly, rising to leave her alone with her thoughts, and she remained silent.

As he walked away, uncertainty lingered in his mind. Should he have tried harder to console her? Or was giving her space the right choice? It was a dilemma he couldn't resolve as he stepped into the elevator, casting one last glance back at her before the doors closed, leaving him with his own unsettled emotions.