two | free fall

76 4 5

by colourdeaf

by colourdeaf

t w o

free fall — any motion of a body where gravity is the only force acting upon it

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EVERYTHING HAS AN equation, you would always say.

"Fuck, I thought gravity was all about, the falling force crap." I muttered in a mouthful of grilled cheese.

West rolled his eyes, which seems to be his automatic response to everything I say, as he strolled across the room and retrieved an apple from the marble counter.

"See this?" He played with the fruit and repeatedly tossed it up in the air and caught it with one hand. "If I drop this apple, it would obviously fall."

"Yeah whatever, I get it because gravity and shit." I responded as I took another bite from the killer sandwhich that he makes.

In fact, this was the only reason I still come to our tutoring sessions. I don't really give a fuck if I can't get past senior year.

Might be dead, by then.

"First of all, gravity is not shit. Gravity is the only reason you're here. Even the word drop would cease to exist if not for gravity." West stated in that authoritative tone of his again.

"You act like I just kicked your puppy and knowing you, yeah you probably treat scientific concepts as your pet."

He rolled his eyes, yet again. "Anyway, back to the apple before you so crudely interrupted me. If I drop this, the apple would accelerate by 9.8m/s per second as it falls due to gravity, also called free fall."

I was about to take another bite when my eyes widened with the sandwich frozen in mid-air. I backtracked a little, "Hold the fuck up. Even Gravity has numbers and shit?"

"Iceland, everything has an equation."

So, what the hell was the equation of me falling for you? Why didn't you tell me so we could've used another formula—so we could've defied gravity.

Because, West, gravity won't bring you back. You would still be buried six feet under the ground.

And as much as I would like to blame the force of gravity, it was the way your eyes would twinkle brighter than the stars, in pride, as your dimple make its way to your right cheek whenever I got an equation right or whenever I would remember that stupid 9.8 number.

It wasn't gravity. It was the way you liked your coffee black with no sugar or milk in that pretentious snobby way of yours. Or the way you would look away from the TV after we watched Titanic because you were terrified that I would you see you all mushy and in your own sexist words, unmanly.

It wasn't gravity. It was the way you would pull at your tousled brown hair in barely hidden frustration because for once, you couldn't win argument with someone who's just as stubborn as you. If not, more.

It wasn't gravity. It was the way that you held me tight in that surprisingly well-built arms of yours as if you were shielding me away from the harsh rays of the sun when it fact it was from me you should have protected yourself from.

Because despite my name, I was no ice. I was fire and anybody who dared to get too close would burn.

And burn, you did.