“Now, tell me, why do you wish upon a star? They’re exploding ball of gas, they are not promises, they’re distant, they’re dead, remote, and you can’t reach them or whatever.” he nearly yells
We've been sitting at the university yard in the middle of the night.
I look at him dumfounded, our friendly banter somehow turned into a tense argument. It’s always been hot and cold between us.
“Your wishes, can’t you-” he stammers, unclenching his jaws while looking at me with contemplating eyes. The look he does when he decides if something should be said, done or what. Just like the time when he had that face before punching the soul out of Christopher for calling me a prude who needs a lesson and to everyone’s surprise and mine, sloppily kissed me on the mouth.
“What do you even wish for?” he sighs
“You” It came out like a question
“I asked you first, you sh-” he says
“No”
Oh fuck it.
“I wish for you.”
