The moment was brown, just like the coffee and tea in front of you-warm, comforting, and home-like. You breathed in and smiled, the smell of freshly-baked cookies mixing with coffee and his scent entered your nostrils.
Maybe his scent was so prominent in result of him sitting right in front of you, writing something on a napkin. Or maybe it was because of the sweater that you wore which originally belonged to him. His beloved yellow sweater that you have no idea how you managed to get him to let you borrow it.
"Just for today," you said, but he chuckled and shook his head. Saying you could have it even if it wasn't just for one particular day.
"What are you doing?" He asked just as you took a sip from your tea, him mimicking your movements with his coffee. You shrugged as a response.
You smiled as you take all of his facial features-his heart-shaped face, his messy brown hair, his almond-shaped eyes that seemed as if they're smiling at you, his plump lips, and lastly, his dimples on both cheeks that you found adorable.
You could feel your heart race as your insides felt like there's a fireworks show. No matter how long it had been since you first laid your eyes on him, he still made you feel like there's thousands of butterflies in your stomach. You bit the insides of your cheek, trying to keep your composure.
Best friends aren't supposed to feel like this towards one another, are they? You're sure they're not, but you can't help it. How were you supposed to not fall in love with the man who can break everything but your heart? Who always managed to get a laugh out of you even in the worst situations.
As you question him about what's written on the napkin, he didn't tell you nor did he show you, which made you frown.
You suddenly feel cold and wrap your arms around your body.
Could this be a sign for you?
Embracing the fact that he'll never look at you in any way other than the small girl in the neighborhood who wore too much black, insisted she was the embodiment of Satan and who he just so happened to have the privilege of calling his best fiend.
Best friend, I guess that's all you'll ever be.
He wakes you out of your world of self-pity and heartbreak, asking if you're cold. And as you nod he moves to the seat next to you, wrapping his long arms tightly around you and resting his chin on your head.
You grab your tea, noticing that his movements caused the napkin to move in a way that you could now read it.
Your eyes widened as you weren't quite sure if your lungs had tightened more or uncompressed.
"Maybe it isn't so wrong to fall in love with your best friend after all, especially if she feels the same way," were the words written on the napkin.
