𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧' 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 ─────⋆⋅★𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘺

𝟐𝟏. 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞

Before she could gather ahold of her thoughts, before she could deny herself of her emotions as she had in his aching absence. She realised that the second she saw him, all her instincts screamed to run into his arms. To have him hold her, to take her home. 

Where home was his heartbeat racing against hers. And in the safety of his sigh, with his chin resting atop her head, for the first time in nearly half a year. She'd be able to breath.

But she couldn't breath. 

She couldn't move. 

Couldn't look away. 

And his eyes, those blue eyes that lapped her like she were drowning in the ocean, held her gaze. Binding her arms to her side, nailing her feet to the concrete. 

His hair was longer, just like she'd seen in all the late night internet scrolls. But seeing him here, in the flesh, wasn't the same as scrolling past paparazzi photos in the glow of her phone screen. He didn't burn her like that cold, blue light in an empty hotel room. No, he burned her like the sun—like hope and despair, seeing her from the inside out.

And then he moved, his long strides quick and determined, as if every step toward her was a question he couldn't wait to answer. He untucked his hands from his pockets as he neared, stopping just short of her. Close enough for her to feel his presence but not close enough to touch. She thought she might fall into him right then.

Her eyes studying his facial features, his high cheekbones she'd ran her fingertips over the last time she'd seen him. And she realised, the last time she had seen him, in the flesh, close enough to kiss, was the morning after their one and only night together. 

And it baffled her, how such a fleeting moment of connection could make her feel like it was eternal. 

JD, bashful, sighed, turning to him. "Tell her," he spoke slowly, his back to Suki, as he patted his shoulder. "Just be honest, Drew." 

Suki didn't notice him walk away, she just exhaled shakily, seeing Drew standing in front of her alone. And the temptation, the incurable urge to kiss him burning at her lips. To close that space, to reach out and touch him, to kiss him like she had wanted to every single day since he walked away, was unbearable. Her lips ached with the need for him, the same way you need balm in the biting cold of winter—raw and desperate.

His lips parted, the ones that had been stitched into her eyelids with golden thread. "Suki." His voice was raw, like the earth, like the elements. Like thunder had crammed itself down his throat. 

She felt the corners of her mouth tugging up, and she fought to keep them in a flatline. 

"I- I," he raked a hand through his hair, she'd never seen him do that before, so much had changed. Even his mannerisms. "I saw you were in town." Drew explained, his sentence short, but it stung. 

Because it reminded them both, that was all they had ever needed. To be in the same place at the same time. 

And then, they would be just as she could imagine. So painfully vivid it felt cruelly real, as she closed her eyes nodding, the image of his hands pressing her body to his, blazing in her mind. 

"I'm here to see Madelyn." She explained, almost as if it was pointed. Reminding him, she wasn't here for him. 

His head dropped, hanging low, nodding slowly. "Yeah," he paused, trying to pick his words carefully, "I um, I assumed as much." 

She bit her lip, the pain of small talk with the one person you could once say anything to, shattering her. 

"I thought you were off today," she said, her voice thin, "I wouldn't have come if I had-"