Come back home --I don't wanna live forever inspired.

Come back Home...

"I was there!"

My heart skipped a beat. I tried to be cool, but I dropped my gaze and collapsed against the wall. "You were?...I ...I didn't know..."

"I was hiding behind the bus stop the whole time."

Silence fell, filled only by the sounds of our shallow breathing. He strode halfway across the room, closing the space between us. He looked pained. Those eyes, those tentatively focused eyes, gazing at me.

His words resonated with me, thawing away the hurt and anger I've had for him for years, turning it into something more. Something I don't want to relive. "Then why? Why didn't you come to say goodbye?"

He didn't reply.

"You knew that was the last time." He leans in, even closer. "There wouldn't be even a point to phone calls and emails. So, why then? Why--"

"Because you wouldn't have gone."

"What do you mean?" Even if he came, it wouldn't have changed my decision. It was the right thing to do. I have never regretted coming to New York, not once and not ever. But...now, I don't know.

He runs his fingers through his spiky hair. I can't help but realise how different he is. "It wouldn't have changed anything," I say, looking away from him. In another place and another time, by some different fate, what if he had showed up? What if?

"It would've changed everything."

"Doesn't matter now, does it? It's all in the past. Who knows if I'd stayed." His eyes bore into mine, bringing me back to the first day I met him. And just like that, he's the rebel kid in the prep school uninform again. That shy person who used to sing in back alleys of our town, and throw pebbles on my window like Romeo.

He pressed the heel of his palm into his eyes. "You would've. I knew you would. That's why I didn't let you see me. I didn't want to be the reason that held you back from chasing your dreams."

"I-I didnt know you felt that way." I'm caged between his arms, and I'm pressed harder against the wall with nowhere to go. My heart was beating fast. I didnt know how much my skin was flushed. Even underneath the layer of sequin and clunky jewels on my neck, I know it'd be easy to see how nervous I was.

"You wouldn't. I never told you."

"Why are you telling me now?"

He smirked. "I don't know. I guess, because I might never the chance again."

Then suddenly he hugged me, his strong arms going around my back, warm and familiar. It felt like I'm home. I'm startled. "That day, I watched the bus pull away. I watched you looking out the backseat. Looking for me. Crying," he said, tightening his arms around me. "I was crying too."

And maybe it was lie, but I fell for it, my own trembling arms went around him.
"I stopped myself from coming to New York. I needed to move on with my life. You were gone, and it was over between us," he continued into my perfumed out wavy hair. "The years passed, and I came to accept it. I knew it wasn't anyone's fault that it happened. It was just life. But, the truth is, ..."

He leaned forward and gave me a feather light kiss. "I never got over you," he says onto my mouth.

"I wanted to see you." He kissed me again.

And though I should logically push him away, I found myself kissing him back. He straddled my legs around him, pushing me higher against the wall as his lips parted mine. I became aware of my every senses heightening when his tongue touched my mouth.

Though I know reason is tugging at me, I buried my fingers into his black spikes, running through it, feeling the numbers of piercings on his ears as if it would distract me from how good he feels, as if it would keep me from thinking too much. His hands moved up my thighs and rested on my hips, and where he touched burned, flaring up through the thin fabric of my sequined dress. My hair fell over our faces like a curley waterfall. I couldn't kiss him enough, do enough to express this dying need for him. He smiled through our kisses and pinned me harder against the wall, holding me as he pried his lips from my mouth and started lightly pecking on my neck.

My feelings ached with longing to every kiss, every touch of his, on my skin. Everything beyond all this was an empty stretch of hallway lit up by chandeliers. I wondered, for a second, what were we doing? But he gently nibbled on my ear, and I lost reason again, letting out a slight moan.

He traced the arch of my back, stopping short at the edge of my dress's zip line. My long sequined dress had ridden up my thighs, but I didn't care now. I locked my legs around him, throwing my arms higher up onto his neck.

He took it as a sign, one of his hands unzipping my dress, the other brushing my hair behind my ear as he whispered my name. I shivered, feeling the touch of cold on my bare skin, and the warmth of his hand trailing the dress off my shoulder.

His mouth found mine again ---the kisses, slower, and more tender. The fingertips of his other hand moved to my neck and held it, and I breathed onto his lips. I'm enjoying this. His taste. His gentleness. All of it.

"I--" he said huskily, in between kisses as he pulled back. "I don't think I'll be able to stop. Are you sure want this?"

"You're asking me this now?" I kiss him lightly on his lips again.

He grazes my cheek with his thumb. "I don't want you to regret it," he whispers.

I paused and he watched me, his gaze unyielding. This is it. The moment of truth. He's giving me a way out to see if I'll take it. What choice I choose will determine what's going to happen. Do I really want this?

He smiles sadly --his fingers drawing back--but, I grabbed onto him, pulling him back to me. "No," I breathed. "Stay. Don't leave me again." I raked my fingers in his black spikes. "Not ever. "In that moment, I did. I knew I wanted him.

I realised that it's not easy to forget your first love. There can be a million reasons why we shouldn't be together. The odds completely stacked against us. But, no matter how hard and painful it was, I wanted to live in that past again. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to love someone again.

He was, is, and always will be that person.