last time » TOLISSO ✓

seven

The last time they talked was just before falling asleep.

It was one if these days when Corentin and Joyce were together, and since it was raining cats and dogs outside, she decided to accept Corentin's offer to sleep at his place. There was nothing ambiguous in that situation--it was not the first time that it was happening. They watched a movie on Netflix--a very bad one--before saying good night to each other and to close their eyes.
The next day, Corentin woke up alone. It was once again not a different situation from what he was used to. She was always leaving during the night and reappearing around ten in the morning, as if it was something totally normal. Corentin had never said anything about that: it was Joyce being Joyce.

But when he opened his eyes, on a morning in December, he knew.

She was gone. Forever.

The very last time that he saw her, he had a feeling. He did not know from where this feeling was coming. He could just feel it. He could feel that he would never see her again.
He was right.

The rain was just a stupid reason to keep her here longer for the very last time. Because as soon as he closed his eyes to sleep, it was over. All he had was the memory of her. Of her face, of her eyes, of her smile. But also of all the things that they did together, all these private jokes they shared, and her little habits.

She was gone, but the memories were not. But the feelings--that were not love in the romantic sense of the term, but love nonetheless--were still here.

And he knew that the hardest part was coming.