Touch & Go

1. Begin Again

Dedicated to hepburnettes because she is awe-inspiring. She is a beautiful person with a beautiful mind. Go check her profile out! (if you haven't already, highly unlikely though)

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"And for the first time what's past is past."

- Taylor Swift, Begin Again

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December 31st, 2015

FEELINGS. Unexpected. Impermanent. Fleeting.

I felt dead. Ironic it was, feeling death. Numbness. And if this was giving up, then I was giving up.

Caffeine wasn't healing me and I wasn't reluctant to try if alcohol would. Only if cafés served liquor. I cursed as another tear fell down my face, leaving a salty trail behind. All the decorations around me were only adding to my miseries.

I was reeling from an age old heartbreak, added to my existing problems. I doubted it was a pretty sight. I had been sitting there for over five hours and I had no intention of returning to my currently-lonesome flat. Even the pseudo-cheerful staff was giving me sad smiles. It's alright, happens to everyone, I told myself. I could not be the only one planning on spending New Year's Eve alone. And in times like these, my conscience laughed at me.

Every time the glass doors opened, cold wind fanned my face and chills traced my spine. I shuddered each time, but never changed seats. Old habit of mine, taking the corner most place. So when the doors opened this time, I didn't turn my head to look at the visitor. Except only, I did. For he had stumbled to the table closest to him, which was mine, banged his empty beer bottle on the table and accidentally hit his foot on my chair. I looked at the hooded figure who held a mysterious aura around his gloomy head.

"I need a drink." He slurred.

"So do I." I murmured more to myself than him.

I think he had heard me, because when he stared in my direction, I saw curious green eyes and a lip curled in amusement.

"I've seen you before." Claimed he.

"Should I be worried?" I halfheartedly asked.

"No, I'm too young to be a pedophile."

I had nothing to talk about. I was too blue for a conversation. So I prepared myself to stand and leave, but he spoke too soon.

"Spend the night with me."

Under normal conditions, I would have kneed him after public humiliation but these weren't normal circumstances. So I stood my ground with my chin held up and stared at him, waiting for him to explain.

"I mean," he sighed, "spend New Year's Eve with me. Let's stick together till midnight."

"And why would I do that?" I continued, disinterested.

I sighed and asked him to remove the hood. I was intrigued by his deep voice, but I had to see if he was a fellow intern at the Research Centre. And when he removed his hood, I was floored.

"You...you're Theodore Edward Knight." I stuttered.

"Call me Eddie, please." He was clearly tired.

I hated that nickname. Especially since my middle name was Eden. It reminded me of that crap TV show on Cartoon Network.

'Eddie' hardly did any justice to his sharp features. His jawline, his chin, his nose, his whole face was void of any flaws. It was as if God had created the ideal mold for a flawless face for all other human beings to look at and envy. And he was the only one who was carved out of that mold.

"You won't remember this tomorrow and you'll regret spending your holiday with me." I lamely stated. It was true though. I was the dull painting in the background of a shimmering, starlit room. I wouldn't stay I was a nobody, but I was close to that.

"Oh, I'll remember it just fine. You're Iris Davies. Everybody knows you. You're Grace's younger sister, aren't you?"

And when I said I was the painting on the far back wall of a starlit room, my sister, Grace Elise Davies, was the star. She was literally famous. The first-born. The perfectionist. From preparing tea to threatening a biker, she did it all in a manner no one could. She was the perfect Davies. Unbeatable. Untameable. Unrelenting.

Don't get me wrong, I loved her. She was the one person I could call home. No matter how naïve, dumb a mistake I made, she was always there for me. She helped me through the toughest times and I would die for her if I ever had to. It was just that I was tired of being pointed out in a crowd. I didn't like the attention I got just because I resembled her facially.

"Yes. Yes, I am. Now what do you suggest we do?" So why not. I knew I'll regret this tomorrow morning more than he would, but maybe, hopefully, it would be worth it. One night, I lose control. One night, I let go.

"Buy me a drink, Davies. And I'll show you fun, Eddie style." He smirked.

I sighed and prepared myself for the undoing I was about to go through.

"Alright then. To the bar, we go."

I won't deny that my spine straightened and my body became conscious of itself when his hand found mine, but his was warm and mine was cold. I guess it described us, but I wanted it. I wanted the warmth. I wasn't a cold person, but I wasn't the warmest either.

I knew the night would turn out to be anything like I wanted to, but I also knew that we would collide again in the future. For he had knocked me out of my orbit and the head-on collision was inelastic. We had stuck together and were to move together, with the same velocity, in the same direction.

Theodore Edward Knight had no idea how chaotic our worlds would turn out when we would be separated by the external forces. But I, Iris Eden Davies, was well aware of the consequences, and I still gave in.

I was trying to forget the cycle where my heart always ended up broken, but that night, I watched it begin again.

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Edited :)

Love, Sirrah