sign {h.s.}

chapter fifty-one

n. can i ask for a lot of comments? i haven't been getting as much lately :( and just a reminder... more comments make me wanna write moreeeee ;P

Years wash away.

The second my eyes land on my former boyfriend, years melt away. Time means nothing as my eyes land on him, sitting alone at a table in a Mexican restaurant where he waits to meet me, for the first time in two years. "Teddy!" I squeal, unable to help myself as I pick up my pace, briskly walking past the hostess who had kindly agreed to walk me to where my friend was seated. 

At the sound of my voice, his head snaps up. Eyes are alert and focused, looking for the source of my voice. At least I know that much hasn't changed in the two years since we had spoken last. 

Time has been his friend. No longer does he have the vaguely boyish face of an inexperienced guy graduating from high school. His hair isn't quite so shaggy as it used to be, instead he has traded it for a cropped hairstyle and a beard. The beard! Never would I ever pictured Ted as someone who would grow a beard. His tan isn't quite so noticeable as it was after a summer of us parading across the desert and sitting out at beaches in San Diego. But his eyes—those brown eyes that could put even a puppy to shame—are still quite the same.

As his eyes land on mine, a smile breaks across on his face. His front teeth are slightly gapped,  something he has never been insecure about. I, like him, found it to be an endearing quirk and charm to his character. "Dee!" He speaks with that western drawl that I had never been a fan of until I had heard him speak. Until I had learned to love the way that he speaks. 

Within seconds he is on his feet, opening his arms wide as he steps into my path—enveloping me in his arms. Two years isn't a long time, I suppose, in the grand scheme of things. Though, at this stage in my life, two years is everything. Those two years were crucial for me. I spent the time at home, doing nothing. For me, those two years were a standstill. Nothing like the whirlwind of a year I had experienced prior. Those two years felt like two decades; despite being nothing close. To look at Ted and see someone who is both so different and so the same is impossibly confusing. Only yesterday I left him at an airport in Nashville. He was flying back home and I was about to embark on the long drive back to Massachusetts. 

Years melt away.

"You look great," I immediately tell him. That is just something you say, I think. Time and time again I've seen my mother say the same thing to her friends that she reunites with after a while. More than that, I've watched it be repeated right back to her, confirming that it is something that people like to hear. "Really great." 

Ted smiles widely at my words, putting his arms on my shoulders as he holds me at a safe distance for his inspection. "Hair is longer," he muses, cocking his head to the side as he continues to rake his eyes over my body, "fashion sense is still nonexistent—"

Playfully, I punch him in the arm, "I have great fashion sense," I remind him, giving him a sort of teasing glare. 

He rolls his eyes at me, not entirely convinced of my statement. Either that, or he just enjoys pretending to be a jerk to me. And, considering I always give him a reaction for it, I would say it is probably the latter. "Alright, alright, come on, sit down. We have quite a bit to catch up on."

"I'd say," I agree, breaking out of his hold as I move to sit on the opposite side of the table as him. 

The restaurant is not entirely busy, though I wouldn't say it is dead either. It wasn't to the point that I felt that our reunion caught the eyes of everyone in the place, but it also wasn't busy enough that we are unable to hear each other. Ted had chosen this place for its margaritas—but, I think the atmosphere of the place alone was enough to sell me on it. "So, Christian has informed me that you have finally broken out of the United States. Paris. Tell me about it," he prompts with a smile as he leans over to munch on the chips and salsa that had been brought to the table before I had even arrived.