Always

epilogue

L U N A
"If I could do it all again
I know I'd go back to you."

[  FIVE YEARS LATER, SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK  ]

I'm drinking hot chocolate.

I let the too sweet taste of it flow down my throat, not even caring when the burning sensation of the piping hot drink pricks my tongue and the back of my throat.

I hate hot chocolate. But I'm still drinking it.

It was an impulsive decision, picking this very drink the second I entered the familiar walls of the café right when the clock struck six. And even though I despised the sweet taste of it, I couldn't bring myself to not drink it.

The entire café buzzed with chatter and laughter. The clatter of spoons against plates and cups filled the air, mixing with the loud talk coming from strangers all around me. The air conditioner to my right blew out freezing cold air, causing goosebumps to rise all over my bare arms.

Bringing the cup up to my lips, I took another large sip. Maybe it was the familiarity of the scent, which caused a homely feeling to settle in my chest. Maybe it was the one thing which reminded me of home more than anything, the one thing which reminded me of him more than anything.

Being back in the city after five whole years was more than enough to spark up old memories. Even though it was like everything had changed so much over the years, it still felt the same. It had the same homely, comforting feeling it had five years ago.

The giddiness of being back to my favourite city after years was overwhelming and had kept me in the best mood ever. Or maybe it was the knowledge of why I was actually here which kept me incredibly optimistic.

I drained the cup completely and set it down on the table in front of me. I didn't realise I was smiling until I caught my reflection in the glass to my side. In the slightly foggy window, I could see the soft smile etched into my face and by the way I felt my cheeks heat up, I knew they were a bright crimson shade.

Five years. It had been five whole years away from this city, away from home, away from him.

They say home is where the heart is. And boy, were they right.

I was home. And if I wasn't wrong then he'd be here too. And wherever he was, my heart was there. It always had been. It always will be.

My eyes flitted over to the clock on one of the wall and I felt my heart drop to the pit of my stomach. Thirty minutes past six. He was late.

Or maybe he wasn't going to show up at all.

I shook my head to myself and looked back out at the cars passing outside the window. He was going to show up. There was no way he was going to stand me up like this.

But then, we had been away from each for five years. He could have changed. Things could have changed. His feelings could have changed.

Or he could have forgotten completely. About this. About me. About us.

I felt my heart rate pick up it's pace when I heard the bell on the door of the café chime and my gaze moved away from the window to the entrance.