Two months after the accident.
Michael drummed his fingers on the counter, waiting for his shift to be over. He hated the shop ever since Luke stopped coming.
His therapist told him to stop relating everything to Luke.
He couldn't relate everything to Luke, because Luke was his everything.
But here Michael was, two months later and still heartbroken. A broken boy with a huge piece of his life missing.
The bell on the door rang, and Michael blinked a few times.
"Can I have a vanilla iced macchiato?" The tall blonde asked, and Michael felt his heart break even more than it already had.
"When I first came into the coffee shop, I met you. And to be honest, you made a really shitty vanilla iced macchiato that day. But I was drawn back to the shop, and I told myself it was because of the coffee. But deep down, I knew I came back to see you again."
"Yeah, of course." Michael stuttered, going to make the cup. He felt his eyes water, but he blinked the tears out of his eyes.
The boy who broke his heart, who ruined his life, was standing right in front of him. And he had no idea what he'd done to Michael.
"Did we ever meet? I was told I came here a lot?" He asked, trying to grasp why he looked so familiar. That was everything Luke's life was now, a memory he can't remember.
Michael stayed silent, tensing at the question.
"No, we haven't met," he lied, dying a bit more. All he wanted was to tell Luke of what they had. The happiness they shared with every smile, every look.
"Hahaha, Michael! I got you!"
Michael wanted the blonde to say. He wanted Luke to open his arms and pull him into a hug, like he used to. But like didn't, and deep down Michael knew he never would.
"What's your name?" Michael asked, trying not to break down in tears.
"What's your name?" The red-haired boy asked.
"Luke." He responded, putting his hands in his pockets and biting his lip anxiously.
"Luke." He said, his eyes glancing at the pale boy in front of him quickly before his phone again.
Michael handed him the cup, putting his shaky hands in his pocket and closing his eyes. He steadied his breath, and tried to keep his eyes closed. If he couldn't see the nightmare in front of him, maybe it would all disappear.
"Count to ten, Michael. Close your eyes and remember the basics. 1...2...3."
"You spelled my name wrong." Luke said, giving Michael a small smile as the boy opened his eyes.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Let me fix that."
THE END.
Don't delete yet ly
