Our Yeah | #WattPride (Completed)

Revisit

Two weeks since I last saw the river outside the town, and it's been three days since I last saw Peter, we haven't talked about the pond incident ever since.

Now, I stand here, midday, on the steps of the very establishment where we first met. Told me to meet him here on this specific day to help him buy a book. I haven't even finished mine yet. I'm getting there though.

The scorching sun today wasn't very forgiving as I try to shade myself with the ancient antiquity that is the roof of this book store, the heat still seeps its way through my skin.

A few moments later, I saw someone on a bicycle heading towards my very direction, I got excited. His wide smile says it all. He's happy to see me, I thought. It's Peter.

"Alex" He calls for me, with one hand in the air. I put mine up to wave as well then smiled. I'm happy to have someone to hang out with and I feel so lucky to have him, even if I'm just a friend in his eyes.

He parks his bike then approaches me. "Hope you didn't wait too long", he says. I didn't, I was just a little early, that's all. I shake my head as an answer. "Good. Let's go"

He ended up buying two books, one of which I helped pick out. When we got to our bikes, he tries to hand me the book that I helped pick for him. I gave a questioning look.

"What are you doing?" I asked, dumbfounded. I don't get it, why was he giving me the book that I picked out for him?

"Consider it as a thank you present, for being such a good friend." Friend. The word echoed throughout my brain in tenfold speed. It stung, but I managed to keep a straight face. This is what all we are to each other anyways – friends. But why did it hurt? Maybe because I wanted something more – a dangerous path to uphold, how can I do that to him? I can't.

"Peter, I-I can't. It's for you." I tried pushing the book away from me, but he pushed it back.

"No, I insist. It's yours." He smiled simply. Genuine. My heart, started to swell up, weakened by his sudden act of random kindness. I stared at the book, as I took it away from the supposed to be owner.

Now I have one more book to read.

"Thank you." I gave a weak smile, trying my best not to look hurt from the undeniable fact that we'd only be just 'friends'. I turned my attention to him who's still looking at me, smiling. "I can't just take this you know? You have to go eat lunch back home, Rebecca's making chicken pot pies."

"How can I say no to that? Deal." He returned the smile and started to pedal the way home.

I chuckled. Of course he knows the way, I think to myself. He's only been there once, yet he already memorized the path like the back of his hand.

"I'm guessing they're to die for?" He asked once I caught up with him. He was referring to Rebecca's chicken pot pies.

"To die for" I proudly replied. I've tried chicken pot pies before in a lot of places that I've been to, but none of them were as quite as good as Rebecca's chicken pot pie. I somehow come to the conclusion that she's been enchanting her chicken pot pies to be excruciatingly good.

Hers were simply the best. I wish she made them everyday, but she keeps saying that: "If I make them everyday, then you'd be sick of them faster" and I don't doubt that.

I know she knows a lot of things, but cooking seemed to be her forte. She's a treasure one must keep – as her husband puts it.

"A revisit is definitely an order", I remember my mom telling me a few weeks ago when we were talking about Peter. And what Peter did for me today seemed like a good opportunity to put my mom's request in action. She liked him for some reason, but she didn't know why. So here we are now, making Peter go back to my humble abode, and also to please my mom.

Just because.