Journey || Erik Durm

♀

CHARLOTTE:

                  BLANKETING the paved roads and nearby gazebos were dense pounds of snow, flakes whirling effortlessly with insidious intent, making the roads slippery and nearly impossible to drive through. Masses of sleet and icy water pulverized on the windshield, dissolving on the glass with the wipers that swished back and forth.

The drive was a five minute feat with chilly, terse air and Erik's skin subconsciously touching my own—I had gotten over him—really, I had—but then came instances like these, when we were placed together in a scenario we had never before imagined, making me contemplate whether my feelings for him had truly disappeared.

And he was writing poetry.

I didn't know he was a writer.

Then again, I didn't know a lot of things about him, it was fair to say.

But he had changed.

Something was different, something starkly subtle, but existent.

And when the car ride ended, the transition to my apartment was a journey on its own. The snow descended onto our skins and coats and jackets, causing goosebumps to arise despite our heavy layers of clothing. I collapsed into our apartment after opening the door, spotting Amber hunched near the sofa, strumming her guitar.

Upon seeing me, she placed it on the coffee-table. "Everything went well?"

I nodded, opening the door fully to reveal Erik and Mario.

She glanced at me questioningly.

"They needed a place to stay," I told her, eyes begging not to be interrogated, and Amber—understanding somehow—dropped the topic and approached us, taking Erik and Mario's coats.

Hanging it on the coat rack, she said, "Welcome, strangers, to Charlotte and Amber's humble abode."

"Thanks, Amber," Erik said.

Mario, never having met Amber before, introduced himself. "Hey, I'm Mario."

"Amber," she said. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

"Are you guys hungry?" she asked as I hung my own jacket. "Trevor and Jas are in charge of dinner. We're going to have a massive overnight movie marathon, so I hope you're into that kind of thing."

We began positioning ourselves on the sofa when Amber bid us a temporary adieu and ambled in the direction of the kitchen. I began to look through our collection of movies for something that would captivate all of us, but within my limited collection of comedy and romances, I found myself at a loss.

Erik kneeled beside me on the floor as Mario propped his foot on the footrest, scrolling through his phone.

"Need help?"

I dropped the cover of Good Luck Chuck, my cheeks gathering warmth. "Sort of."

He looked through the drawer, a faint smile tugging the corners of his lips. "Nymphomaniac, Rabbit Without Ears, Girl on a Bicycle, How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days, Wetlands, Rabbit Without Ears Two—"

"So I might only have chick flicks and weird and perverted movies," I interjected.

He chuckled. "And Trev actually sits through them?"