A part of me wanted to call my mother. If there was anybody who would give Jacob my address it would be her. I closed my eyes for a second and thought about us. Really thought about us. The rhyme and rhythm. The songs and sonnets. My sonnets were shit back then.
"Still are now," I chuckled to myself.
"Hey," I turn to see my fellow writer, Thomas 'Tom' Harrison smiling.
"Hey to you too, Harrison," I smiled back. It was strange seeing him outside of book conventions, signings and other work related places but it was nice.
"How are you? I haven't seen you in awhile," I asked looking up at him, 188cm (or if you use the inferior measuring system 6'2) my ass. He was surely taller than that. Then again I was only 155cm (again 5'1).
"Oh I'm good, you?" he replied.
"Better with you here," I giggled. And there I go turning back into a teenage girl again, I'm just glad, my braces are off now.
"Is that so Little Miss 'I'm so confused, hell, I'm always confused'," Tom teased.
A blush crept onto my cheeks, "Don't make me change my mind, Tom."
"Okay, love. How about we get out of this cold ass weather as you would say and get some coffee?" Tom proposed.
"I thought you never asked," I fluttered my eyelashes before busting out in giggles with Tom.
Tom braided his fingers with mine and lead me to a little corner café called 'The Yard'.
"Do they sell milkshakes?" I asked Tom.
"Yes, they do," he smiled at me.
YOU ARE READING
If Only We Held On
General FictionI held on to you the way I wanted you to hold on to me. But instead, you left. Without a single word for me to remember you by. So now not only have I lost them. I've lost you. I've lost us. And most of all I lost me.
