epilogue
Every afternoon after practice he would change into his coffee stained clothes, the very same he had worn the day he met Primrose. It was almost like his ritual, something he did without fail. Change into his coffee stain adorned clothes, hop in his car, and drive down to the coffee shop in hopes of seeing Primrose again.
His friends worried about his emotional state.
It was evident that he was in denial about her passing, and all attempts to make him see it were shot down by him. He shut them out. Thomas and Philipp tried to get him emotional help. That didn't work either. Bastian refused to listen to anyone, only listened to his heart who wouldn't let go of her memory.
He sat in the back, the same place he sat with her when they had coffe together. His hands gripped the cup of coffee firmly, his grey-blue eyes trained on the dark liquid inside. He could almost picture her sitting there with him, her optimistic smile bringing a smile to his own lips. She was so full of life despite her condition and she had helped him see the brighter side of things in those few encounters he shared with her.
She would always tell him not to worry, and to stop being so nervous around her. But it was impossible to him. Bastian always felt the need to impress her with his football stories, and tales of events that had happened in the locker room.
Primose just enjoyed the pleasure of his company, and he enjoyed her company.
His gaze looked up, he was sitting right across from the window that looked out onto the street. A gasp caught in his throat as he saw her walk past the shop window. Bastian quickly shot up from his seat and hurried out the door, calling, "Rose, hey Rose! Wait." He weaved past a small crowd of people on the sidewalk and stopped the young woman by placing a hand on her shoulder.
She jumped, startled and turned to face him. "Excuse me?" She eyed him with confusion.
That hadn't been Primrose.
Only his imagination playing tricks on him.
"Sorry." He muttered, pulling his hand off her shoulder. "I thought you were someone else."
The young woman eyed him with sympathy for a second before she was back on her way down the street. Embarrassed, Bastian returned to the coffee shop to wait for Primrose once more.
As he sat down at his table, his cup of coffee had been tipped over in his urge to get out of there. He grabbed some napkins from the dispenser and proceeded to clean up the mess he had made. Reassuringly, he muttered to himself, "She'll come by today. And if she does, she'll be able to spot me immediately. She'll know its me." He finished, looking down at his coffee stained shirt.
"She'll know its me." He repeated, and resumed waiting for his Primrose.
-
epilogue time. wanted this to be a bit longer. but i just got finished writing a twenty five page thesis for my senior thesis spanish class. and it was sue yesterday so im literally drained of ideas. the other updates i have written for other stories were already pre-written and saved for a special circumstance like this. so im thankful.
thank you all for reading this story. it really means a lot, especially because i know i took ages to update my part of this story. but like i said, sometimes i gotta prioritize.
have a great week! and stay tuned for our next work. its gonna be something very different and new.
-clary xx
