Don't Go

Lily

Her hand slowly retreated back while she maintained eye contact with me. It was hard to tell if she was nervous, scared, surprised or all three.

I don't know what made me do it, but Sunday morning I phoned Smile More, in an attempt to get some help. The numb pain was still in my leg, so I grabbed my phone and called. I told them my age, my name and that I have been needing help for some time. They responded with what day I should go, and who my therapist will be.

Ashley Witherfield.

The same Ashley Witherfield sitting in front of me. The same Ashley Witherfield from the pub. The one whose attention I tried and failed to get.

And here she was.

I don't know how long we were sat there looking at each other, but eventually I shot up to leave. I couldn't tell this gorgeous woman my problems, especially if she was just sitting directly opposite me.

I pulled the handle down when I heard her voice.

"Don't go".

There they were again. Those two words that rooted me to the spot. I couldn't tell if it was a command or a plead. But either way, I stayed.

She was stood up, leaning against my side of the desk. It was cute, that glimmer in her eyes and the perfection of her body. It was mesmerizing.

I eventually sat down in the seat which was way too comfy for my liking. She remained standing next to me.

I looked up and raised one eyebrow questioningly. She immediately blushed. I smirked and she went redder.

I had been in this room for 45 minutes and still hadn't said a word. And I wasn't planning to.

"Lily", the softness of her voice brought me back into reality. I watched her, awaiting for what was coming next.

"If you won't talk to me now, then maybe we could meet up at the pub again?"

Seriously, the pub of all places!? I met her gaze and nodded.

- - - - - - - -

It was now 7:15 pm and I had been sat here for half an hour. When eventually I heard the door open and in she walked.

She was wearing a dress that revealed her shoulders but covered her arms, and it came down to mid thigh. She was beautiful.

She sat, and ordered a drink, and then turned towards me. She was saying something, but I was too fixated on her I couldn't hear.

My hand started to feel warm and to my surprise, her hand was covering my own. I looked back at her.

I didn't know what was going on, but whatever it was, I liked it.

She opened her mouth in an effort to speak, but I stopped her with some words of my own.

"Where shall I begin..?"

And just like that, I told her my whole story.