You wake up. Just another normal day. You take your shower and get dressed into something cute and comfortable. You go to work.
You're a photographer. You've always loved how the world looked behind lenses, how a picture could capture moments, memories. You've always loved how you could take a setting and register its story as happy or sad as it may be. You've always loved the infinite ways a picture could be interpreted.
The new negatives are ready. You took them yesterday in the park where you looked for material for a new article. Spontaneity was always your strong suit. A couple was having a picnic, a woman was running, a teenager was riding his bike and you stood there wondering where you should start.
You take out your camera and spot and chocolate colored dog running your way. You focus on him, wagging his tail and drooling all over a ball at your feet, which was what it was there for. You take a few shots as it waits for you to play with it. Before you can lower your camera, a voice calls your attention and you see, through the lenses, a man. He was talking. He was talking /to you./ You put your camera around your neck and focus on him apologizing about Koda, the dog. You tell him not to worry, because dogs are great and Koda is sweet.
He smiles and you smile back. You pick up the ball and throw it for the dog who runs excitedly after it. You focus your camera on the owner who looks marveled at his pet's happiness. You snap a shot. He notices and smiles again. He takes a few steps and introduces himself. You do the same and go on to take more pictures and talk through the day.
As he talks, you study him. You notice how his smile shines on the daylight. You notice how his green eyes match Koda's. You notice how his blondish hair is almost the same shade as yours. You notice how he uses his hand to explain things and how he frowns when he can't find the word he's looking for. You notice all these things and how every single one of them makes him and his story that much more interesting. You notice how you want to take pictures of every last one of those details.
You talk for a while, and explain the pictures. You finish hearing his story. He asks for yours in return but you dismiss him gently. That was for you to know and for him to, maybe one day, find out.
It was getting late, you had to go and he had some place to be as well. You don't say goodbye but tell him you'll see him later. He tells you that it was nice to meet you and that he does hope to see you again soon. You leave without giving him your number. He leaves without asking for it.
'Maybe he forgot.' you think to yourself and you walk through the trees at the entrance of the park. 'Maybe he didn't like me. Maybe I'll never see him again. Or, just maybe, we'll see what else the Universe has in store for us.'
Your day goes on as usual. You go out with your friend and tell her all about the guy from the park. She makes a few jokes and goes on to you her news.
You pass by the office and leave the camera rolls to get the negatives the next day. You go home, take a shower, order take out, watch some TV and right before falling asleep, you wish you just might dream about him.
.
.
.
.
You wake up. Just another normal day. You take your shower and get dressed into something cute and comfortable. You go to work. Your negatives are ready. You reveal your pictures and some of them get printed along with the article in some future issue of the magazine you free lance for.Some time passes and the memory of the guy in the park with his dog starts to feel like a fantasy, just pictures you once took. One day you don't think about him at all. The next day, you go to get your payment for the free lance job. You talk to the editor, she compliments your work. You go back inside an elevator. There's already a man there, but he doesn't seem to notice you.
Right before the steel door closes, a hand holds it. You see it open up again and you feel the intensity of the look those green eyes sent your way once upon a time and again now. You look back at him, establishing a connection. He stands right beside you, inches away. The man who was already there doesn't seem to notice nor does he seem to care.
You can feel the warmth of his fingertips as he touches yours fingers with the slightest movements, as if he was afraid to scare you off if he moved too quickly. The warmth spreads to your hand and runs through your body like electricity. You wonder if he feels it too.
About a thousand years later the elevator stops at a random floor and the man steps off. You feel the heat fill up the entire space as the doors close again. He turn to face you. His green eyes piercing through yours. His hands land on your hips. Your hands hold onto the bottom of this t-shirt.
He takes a step closer. You look into his eyes, and wonder through the details in this face. Lastly you look at how his lips seem soft and how he is breathing as anxiously as you. You lean it, he meets you halfway. You kiss.
You move with him in total sync. You take in what felt like a dream but now is right there with you. He kisses you gently, then you kiss him more passionately and hold back your smile when he responds to it quickly. His hand moves up to the side of your face when you feel the elevator slowing down.
Right before the door opens and other people step in, you move to the other side of the metal box. You keep looking at him, he keeps looking back. Electricity feels the air again but nobody seems to notice except for you and him.
The elevator stops again. It's the last floor. The people who got in before, leave as soon as the door opens. You stay there. He stands next to the open door and offers you his hand. He says, with a shy smile, that you still have a story to tell him. You smile at the floor. You take his hand. You walk out of the building into the city. You feel the watts running through your veins, and think to yourself, 'Nice move, Universe.'
YOU ARE READING
See You Again
Short StoryI got the idea from Disclosure's videoclip of Latch ft. Sam Smith. There's a lot in here that like that, because I thought it was really really cute. 2nd person. You meet a guy. You hopefully will meet him again.