Our Yeah | #WattPride (Completed)

Bookstore Part 2

I remember that day, the day we went to that pond, it felt like yesterday. Everything was intricately vivid, buried in the back of my mind. It's been days though. I told myself that I won't do it again. I'd probably die first before he gives me that dark steely gaze that followed with a forcefully non-intoxicating "yeah" of his. It's both harsh and brute, but honest nevertheless – too honest perhaps.

Sure it'll drive me mad to death but I'd still be dead eitherwise. I may as well die without suffering – best advice I could give myself.

I spent two days in my room after that day, wondering what I did wrong to make him ignore me. I can still see it, his painful gaze, repeating in my head like a broken record. He knows the way here, why won't he visit?

Does he need an invitation first? He's not a vampire, so there's nothing really stopping him to visit me – visit here.

When it was time to go out of my cocoon-like slumber in my room, I thought of going out first thing in the morning. I figured I'd go to the book store. But it's still closed this early in the morning, I thought, but I didn't care. When the time came. I told myself that I was ready. So I pedalled my way to the book store, thinking of one thing and one thing only. Peter.

Would he be there? Probably not.

Why would I go then? Because I think he'd be waiting for me there.

It doesn't even have to make sense for me to go there willingly.

It was always quiet at dusk. No early birds chirping through the fine line of blissful serenity and pure agonizing noise. You can only hear nearby river flows or trees dancing at the mercy of the wind, though it may be uncanny to some people, I immensely adore it. It smelled of uncut wild morning-dewed-grass which has been my absolute favorite thing to smell – outside the vacation house that is. Its unfiltered smell in the morning just brings out my senses up and kicking and it makes me feel like I can do anything I desire, but I could never figure out why. I'm not complaining though. I love it.

As I approached my destined location, I saw from afar a silhouette of a man sitting at the end of the steps of the book store. But as I got closer, the image drew clearer and clearer until I stopped. Just a few dozen feet from the man. It was him. Reading a book ever so calmly. It looked like the novel he bought a few days ago.

My mind drifted off, was he really waiting for me? Can't be. Can it? I've been contemplating now, is it better to leave him be or to approach him?

Was he mad?

Did he hate me?

Were we not friends?

Were we even friends in the first place?

Before I made a decision, he looked up straight in my direction. He must've noticed me, standing out in the open, like a gazelle caught in headlights. His eyes glowed in the morning sun as he stood up, closed his book with one hand with much finesse and proceeded to walk directly towards where I awkwardly stand, while I gently crumble onto my bike slightly gaping at him.

Unbuttoned shirt, shorts slightly above the knee, a white cap and some sneakers. He looks different, dressed for golf maybe?

I stayed there, now sitting on my bike. I couldn't close my mouth; was I forgiven? Why was he walking towards me? Is this a dream? I must be if he's walking towards me even after our last encounter at the pond.

As his body left the shadows of the library and touches the sunlight, he slightly squints his eyes but smiles all the same – smiles at me. I guess I'm forgiven then?

"Alex" He calls me. I hear him say my name, it was delectable. I finally close the gap between my mouth and detach myself from my bike as I walked closer to him as well, smiling wider and wider every step, trying to meet him halfway. Every stride I make, I think of a million ways to apologize to him and a million more scenarios to think about what I could've possibly done for him to act that way – for him to show me what he did.

Now the question is... what could that be?