Growing up (MWL's sequel)✔️

41. The boy of sad eyes.

Chapter Forty

The park was the same.

Just I remembered it, the only difference was the snow coating what used to be green grass and the tall trees had no trace of its leaves. The lake was frozen at the shoreline. It looked like a parallel universe of what I remembered. I hugged myself, walking that same path I'd walked the day I met him.

Him...

Evan...

Dark_poet001

The boy of sad eyes.

I remembered clearly how nervous and sweaty I'd been that day, I'd feared I'd pass out. He made me feel so much from the very beginning. I finished the path and looked ahead and there he was.

Just like the first time.

He leaned against the same tree, right across the lake, arms across his chest. He wore his usual dark pants and dark blue coat with a blue winter hat, his dark hair escaping it messily.

Dark_poet001... forever handsome.

Cold wind blew past me, my hair dancing with it. We stared at each other for a while, savoring the silence, the distance.

I love you, peachy girl.

Mrs. Strawberry.

You and I are one.

The girl and the shark.

Gazing at each other from the distance was somehow peaceful. We didn't need to say anything, to make any choices. I wished we could stay like that for a long time but that was not an option. I pushed my hands inside my coat and he leaned off the tree. He had two coffees in a tray in one hand.

We started walking towards each other.

No more waiting.

No more time.

Each step I took felt light, like I was walking on water. For some reason, I didn't feel overwhelmed, I felt at ease. Each step led me to the boy I love. The first man I'd ever loved and the one who'd hurt me the most as well. It's contradictory how love and hurt go hand in hand, love can so easily hurt us. I could understand everyone who never wanted to love or let anyone in. It's terrifying. To give someone that power to hurt you, is scary. Some people are not afraid to jump in love. They want it, they fight for it even when they get hurt, just like me.

But others don't want to be vulnerable. They don't want to get hurt. Evan was like that. He shielded himself, pushing everyone away from him. He feared being exposed and hurt. He didn't know love. He knew nothing but pain for so many years of his life. It was the scars not visible to the eye the ones that hunted him. He was a pained soul.

His shield of self-preservation was so strong when I'd met him. He'd hurt me so much at the beginning, it was like walking in a mined field to get to him, to get him to let me in. I fought for it because that was the type of person I was. He hurt me to push me away because that was who he was. And who he was, wasn't his fault. Everything he went through to become the person he was, wasn't and would never be his fault.

At the beginning, I forgave him because I understood him. I knew what it took from him to let me in. He needed someone to fight for him.

A traumatized beautiful man behind that coldness.

His thick black eyebrows escorted those hypnotizing dark eyes that gazed at me as if trying to pierce through me. His nose was slightly red and so were his lips, probably because of the cold.