Tell Me Lies

Drawn Together

I didn't expect to hear from him again. It was one of those things—those spontaneous moments that feel perfect while they last, but you assume they'll fade into nothing once life picks back up. But Omari wasn't a fleeting moment.

Two days after that night, outside the café, my phone buzzed with a message.

*"Hope you're not too busy this evening. Meet me at the park?"

I stared at the screen, the corners of my lips twitching into a smile. It wasn't elaborate, wasn't some over-the-top gesture, but something about its simplicity made me feel seen. I typed back a quick "Sure" and spent the day thinking of him, wondering what this was and where it could lead.

By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting the sky in shades of burnt orange, I was on my way. The park wasn't far from my place, but each step felt longer than the last. Nervousness crept in—the anxious energy that comes when you know you're walking into something meaningful, even if you can't quite define it yet.

When I arrived, he was already there, standing near a tree with his hands casually tucked into his pockets. As soon as he saw me, his face lit up with that same easy smile that had knocked me off guard the first time we met.

"Hey," he greeted, stepping forward. "Glad you came."

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Didn't have much else going on tonight."

"Good timing then," he said with a chuckle, his eyes flickering over me, lingering for a moment longer than casual. It wasn't uncomfortable, though. His gaze was warm and familiar like he saw me for more than just the surface.

We started walking along the winding paths that cut through the park, the world around us fading into the background as we fell into conversation. It wasn't hard with Omari—everything flowed so naturally as if we'd been doing this for years. We laughed at dumb stories from our pasts and exchanged opinions on everything from music to movies, and for a while, it felt like the rest of the world didn't exist.

"What about you? What's your thing?" he asked, giving me a sidelong glance as we strolled by the pond, the water reflecting the soft twilight hues.

"My thing?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, like, what gets you going? What makes you excited?" His voice had a curious edge to it as if he genuinely wanted to know, not just for the sake of conversation but because he was interested.

I paused, thinking for a second. "I guess... I love photography. Capturing little moments people miss—like a look or a laugh, things that don't seem important until you see them frozen in time. It's the small details that tell the real story."

He smiled at that, his eyes shining with something I couldn't quite place. "That's cool. You must see the world differently, huh? Through a lens."

"Maybe. I think we all do in some way. We just focus on different things."

We walked a little further, the air growing quiet but comfortable between us. It was the kind of silence that didn't need to be filled with words.

Eventually, we found ourselves near the lake, the gentle rippling of the water mirroring the purples and pinks of the sky. He stretched out on the grass beside me, leaning back with his hands behind his head. I sat down, pulling my knees up to my chest, feeling the cool breeze brush against my skin.

"You ever think about how certain people come into your life at just the right time?" Omari asked, breaking the quiet.

I turned to look at him, his face relaxed, eyes half-closed as he stared at the horizon. "Sometimes. I guess we don't always understand why at first."

He nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Yeah, like it's not about figuring it out, just about being open to whatever it is."

There was something in the way he spoke like he was sharing a little piece of himself with me, something unguarded. I wasn't used to that—to people who weren't afraid to be real, who didn't feel the need to hide behind the usual small talk. It was refreshing.

He shifted then, turning his head to face me fully. "I'm happy we met, Zaire. I don't know why, but it feels like I've known you longer than just a couple of days."

His words caught me off guard. I didn't know what to say at first. It wasn't that I disagreed—I felt it, too. That inexplicable sense of familiarity, like we had somehow skipped all the awkward beginnings and landed in this place where everything just made sense.

"I'm glad too," I finally said, my voice softer than intended.

We sat silently for a while, the only sounds being the gentle rustle of the wind and the faint chirping of crickets in the distance. Time stretched, but I didn't mind. I wasn't thinking about what came next or where this was headed. In that moment, all that mattered was being there with him.

"I've got something for you," Omari suddenly said, breaking the stillness. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small, square object wrapped in brown paper.

"What is this?" I asked, curious but smiling.

"Open it."

I unwrapped it carefully, revealing a small, black journal with crisp, blank pages.

"You said you like capturing moments, right? Thought maybe you could write some of them down too."

I was speechless for a second, staring at the gift in my hands. It wasn't grand or flashy, but it was thoughtful. It was... me.

"Thank you," I said, meaning it more than I could express. "I love it."

He grinned, sitting back up. "Good. I figured, you know, if you're going to see the world through your lens, might as well write down what you see too."

We spent the rest of the evening talking about dreams, ambitions, and the little things that made us who we were. By the time we left the park, the sky was ink-black and dotted with stars. And though I didn't know what would come of this—of us—I knew one thing for sure: Omari wasn't someone I'd forget easily.

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A/N

Hey loves.

I judge my writing and my grammar so hard if you see any mess ups please let me know. I hope you enjoyed the chapter

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