I Can't Place It

i'll still love you.

Before the end, I like to think maybe we'll see the universe. Is there a chance for redemption in lovers? I pray through bad religion to see you again. One day, the stars will align to form a new beauty. Even when the world disapates, I'll still love you.

•
//Phil

I wake up to the sun poking through my bedroom window, and stabbing the back of my eyelids. I groan, and then turn to my clock groggily. It's about eight am. Yay, my favorite time of morning. Oh wait, that doesn't exist. Today's a Sunday, and I don't have work, so I just lay there for a second pondering whether I should get coffee or not.

Of course the answer is yes. Coffee; if humans were robots it'd be our main source of fuel.

I get in the shower and before I know it I'm slipping on my coat, and hurrying out of my flat as if to seize the cold day as fast as I can. Surprisingly, I feel great. The sun is shining despite the bitter cool of the air, and it just feels nice. All the noise around me isn't suffocating, but rather calming. I've always loved living in the city.

I sigh at the beautiful urban scenery, and make my way to the closest coffee place to my flat--The Revelation Station. It's built to make you think ideas. Everything about it is so calming, and so pretty. There's even a large train on the ceiling. It's not an actual train, but it's cute and goes around little tracks making little choo choo sounds like a toy shop.

I enter the place, and order my coffee from a little woman named Herl. She's pretty young looking, and seems tired.

"Herl? That's a rather odd name," I say with a polite smile.

She sighs, "If I had a dollar for everytime I heard that I could leave this job, and follow my dreams."

My coffee isn't really that hot when I get it, and she hands it to me like it's her student loans. I think I may have offended Herl.

That's when I turn around, and stop dead in my tracks when I see someone I hadn't seen in years. He's dusting off his coat as he walks in, and he makes eye contact with me almost immediately. I swear, the entire world stopped with us.

"Dan?" I ask.

His chocolate brown eyes bore into mine like laser beams, but I don't feel uncomfortable. I feel at home.

"Phil," he breaths out almost like relief, "I didn't expect to see you again."

I smile, and I don't know why, but I do. Seeing his face again I'm taken aback by how he's aged. He doesn't look old of course, but his hair is naturally curly and his face seems to have matured. He'd grown barley, but I knew he had, and his clothes were no longer strictly pastel.

"Wow, Dan, hi. I've been, wow. Do you maybe want to catch up?" I ask suddenly, breaking the silence between us. Well that's just an awkward thing to say, Phil. Well done.

He's staring at me like I'm a ghost, "Y-yeah, I'd love to."

And suddenly we're both having coffee, and we're sitting at a table in the corner; the little train above our heads. He's so breathtaking I forget how to speak.

"So..." he says after a while, looking down at his coffee. There's a little blush prominent on his cheeks, and I wonder if it's from my staring.

"Oh, sorry," I apologize, "I forgot how beautiful you are."

He looks up at me from his coffee with a small smile, "I never forgot how beautiful you are."

I grin, "So, what have you been doing this past four years, Dan?"

He traces his finger around the edge of his cup; a nervous habit he's had since I've met him.

"Oh, well I own a flower shop now. Do you remember the one I work at? Poppy Petrichor? Hattie passed it down to me. I moved out of our old flat, and got a nicer one. It's doing very well."