Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Standing outside Samantha's house, I rested my hand on my bicycle, seeking refuge in the shade of a nearby tree. The world around me was already alive — sunlight filtering through the leaves, casting shifting patterns on the pavement.
The breeze carried the scent of summer, rustling the branches above, and the distant hum of morning life filled the air.
"Looks like today will be a clear one," I murmured to myself, the warmth of the morning settling into my skin.
Just then, the iron gates creaked open, breaking the quiet rhythm of the scene. There she was — Samantha. She stepped out, radiant in a flowing white dress, a straw hat perched atop her head. Her hands gently gripped the handlebars of her bicycle as she pushed it forward, a proud smile lighting up her face, as if the world itself had arranged this moment for her entrance.
And for a second, I forgot how to breathe.
"Hello, Jonah!" Samantha greeted with a cheerful wave, her voice as bright as the morning sun.
"Hi, Samantha," I replied, returning the wave, feeling a familiar flutter in my chest.
Her eyes lit up as they fell on my bike. "Whoa, nice bike!" she exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over, her gaze sparkling with curiosity.
"Thanks," I said, glancing down at it. "I've had it since high school. My parents bought it for me so I wouldn't have to walk to school."
"Wow, that's really cool!" Samantha beamed, her smile widening. Her hands shifted on her own bike's handlebars, and I noticed the expectant tilt of her head, like she was waiting for something.
My eyes flicked to her bike — a pink Japanese bike, charming in its simplicity. The straw basket at the front gave it character, like it was ready to carry a story of its own. A fitting touch for someone like her.
and it seemed like the basket had a blanket at the bottom of it.
"Your bike's even nicer," I said, meeting her gaze. "It suits you."
Her eyes widened, then softened as a smile spread across her face. A soft laugh escaped her lips, light and effortless. "You really think so?"
"Yeah," I replied, holding her gaze. "It's... you."
Samantha's cheeks flushed, a soft pink blooming across her face. She tucked a loose curl behind her ear, her fingers lingering to twirl the strand as if stalling for time.
"I'm... I'm glad to hear that, Jonah," she said gently. Her voice carried a warmth that settled into the quiet between us, and her smile lingered—like a secret she wasn't ready to let go of.
That's when it hit me—how I felt just yesterday. How dangerously close I was to drowning in my own thoughts.
If she hadn't called... what would've happened to me?
So I asked, carefully, like I didn't want to disturb the moment too much.
"Samantha... why did you call me yesterday?"
She blinked, caught off guard. "Oh. Well, I didn't want to rot in the house, so I thought—why not ask you to hang out? It was kind of a last-minute idea." Her eyes softened, looking up at me with a guilt-tinged smile. "I hope I didn't bother you or anything."
"No—no, not at all," I said quickly. The truth settled in my chest.
You didn't bother me.
You saved me.
I cleared my throat, trying to shift the moment.
"So... what exactly are we doing today?" I asked, still unsure what this day was supposed to be.
YOU ARE READING
Timeless Regrets.
Roman d'amourA young, silent college student accustomed to his predictable routine encounters a girl from another country, whose vibrant spirit shakes him from his self-imposed isolation. As their friendship blossoms, he is forced to confront the regrets and pai...
