The Lucky One

And You Don't Need Me

{Title taken from Recover by CHVRCHES}

On Friday the 15th of May, the flower poking out of Dan's pale yellow shirt was a lavender; he wore one of my old faded denim jackets he'd stolen before Christmas one day when it was extra cold - it clashed horribly with his blue jeans.

"Denim on denim?" I'd commented.

He'd looked down as if surveying himself, and there was a piece of his hair at the back he'd forgotten to straighten, then he'd looked up with a thin smile on his face and said. "I'm starting a trend."

I'd snorted, taken his hand and walked us down the street.

"That will never be a trend."

Our feet crunched on the gravelly pavement as we walked, my battered black doc martens and his mucky white canvas flat form shoes that would look ridiculous on anyone except Dan.

"I can pull it off." Dan had said, spinning so he was walking in front of me and backwards, both of our hands clasped out between us. "I mean look at me."

And I had, I always had.

I had grinned, pulled him closer by our joined hands and kissed his forehead.

"You're an idiot." I'd told him, the words slurring against his skin.

"Take it back!" He had gasped, brown eyes golden in the bright morning.

Dan didn't have drama after school on Fridays, and that particular Friday, when we met at the gates outside of school, he still had the lavender in his pocket and there was a frown between his eyes that looked unnatural on his face.

So, instead of getting the bus, we'd walked home - and on the way he handed the lavender to an elderly lady pulling along one of those trolley bag things. She'd grinned and exclaimed "oh!" in a voice all old ladies seemed to have.

"Why did you give it to her?" I had dared to ask.

Dan had turned to me. "Nobody at school needed it today - and she looked like she did."

That was when I realised I loved him.

It was stupid, and I had probably always been in love with Dan because everybody was in love with Dan but this was different - it felt like the birds in the trees sang especially for Dan and the sun seemed brighter in his presence. Dan wasn't golden, or even silver or copper, he didn't shine in the sun or conduct electricity like all of those novels say.

When we kissed it wasn't electric.

Because Dan was a flower; he was bright and carefree and delicate and beautiful.

Dan was soft and smelled like love and looked like a Monet painting with all his pastels and flowers and easy smiles.

He was everything.