One-Shot Collection - Keanu Reeves.

- 𝙎𝙘𝙤𝙩𝙩 𝙁𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧 -

What if he doesn't remember me?

I sit at the restaurant table, starring at a man I once knew. His short brown hair hangs near his eyes, searching the menu card that sits in his hands. He looks the same as two years ago, except he's dressed in a crisp suit. We both moved on from the phase in our lives that we shared, I'll admit that. His blank expression shows that he may have discarded any lingering hoodlum behavior he may have had left. I miss him, I really do. I miss pranking Bob, I miss running away from the cops with him and Mike...I miss Mike too. I snap back into reality, noticing that a petit server is asking me if I want to order anything. I clear my throat, attempting to gather my thoughts "Yes, I'll have a bowl of hotpot and a side of dumplings". I draw my attention back to Scott as the server walks away, beginning to study him again. My heart flutters as the memories of our times together play through my head like a movie.

Suddenly, he looks up at me, almost as he could sense me starring. His eyes meet mine, brows furrowed. He looks as if he's trying to remember, trying to place a face. I consciously tuck my long black hair behind my ear, shifting my eyes to look out the window of the booth. I still remember the day he left. For weeks before his birthday his warned us of his leaving, but nobody believed him. He didn't even kiss me goodbye before he disappeared. I close my eyes, trying to shake the painful memory. I open my eyes, mustering up courage to look at him again. This time, he stares at me, hand on his chin. His eyes are confirming, knowing who I was. He slowly stands up, shifting the menu card and closing it. What is he doing? My heart picks up pace, anxiety making my palms wet. He moves towards me, standing taller then I remembered. I watch him as he arrives at my booth that I'm sitting at. He sits down across from me, looking directly at me. He sighs, shaking his head. From up close, he looks tired. Bags start to show under his eyes a little, signaling exhaustion. "Scott..." I mutter. "I'm sorry" he says, looking away from me. I seemingly know what he apologizes for, nodding my head. The server comes to the table, placing the plate of food in front of me and walking away.

"It's been hard. Really fucking hard." I look at Scott, furrowing my eyebrows "What do you mean Scott?" "I couldn't sleep for the longest time. I was always thinking about you and how I didn't say goodbye, and Mike. I worried so much about him. I don't even know if he's alive" he adds. Our eyes lock, his expression sad. I pick up my fork, picking up a dumpling and biting into it. He licks his lips, sighing once again. "What happened to you Scott. You look exhausted, dead almost." I say, swallowing a mouthful of dumpling. "I got the money from my old man for my birthday, as you may know. He ended up dying..." he chokes up a little, quickly regaining himself "And I had to take ownership of his business. I'm just busy all the time, having meetings for this and that, attending to everyone's needs but my own." I frown a little, saddened. He may look the same, but he changed. He isn't full of life like he used to be. "I'm sorry about your father scotty.." Scotty. I used to call him that all the time. His eyes light up a little at the sound of his old nickname. "What about you? what happened to you after I left?" he asks, picking up the extra fork and grabbing a dumpling for himself. I smile "Well, a few weeks after you left, I didn't have anyone anymore. I saved up some money and bought a place near here and got a job. I just returned to the normal life, sleeping at the right time, working daily shifts, boring stuff like that". He looks at me, studying me again.

"Well, I'm glad that you found a way out. Not many people can escape from that street life, sleeping in abandoned building and stuff". A long silence grows between us, making the chemistry burn. It's just like old times, eating Chinese food at a take out place and having deep conversations. Except we don't dine and dash this time. My eyes fall to his lips, looking at what was once mine to kiss. I bite my lip nervously "I've missed you Scott. You left me broken". His eyes drop at the sound of me being hurt. He reaches his hand over the table, placing it on mine. "I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't know how to cope. I was lost, and didn't want to grow attached to anyone and hurt them when I left...but it looks like I failed at doing that". I pull my hand away from his in anger "Well, you should have thought of that before you kissed me". I pull a ten dollar bill from my pocket, placing it on the table. I grab my jacket, standing up and storming out of the take out restaurant. As much as I love him, he had no right doing what he did. He hurt me. He hurt Mike. He hurt everyone. I cross the street, jaywalking. I stop at the other side of the road, throwing my jacket on and pulling out a cigarette from the pocket of it. As I light it, I see Scott run out of the store. He crosses the road, coming up to me.

"What do you want Scott?" I scowl at him. He sighs and puts his arms in the air "I'm sorry alright! I am so fucking sorry." he almost yells. I take a drag of my cigarette. A feeling bubbles in my stomach, almost forgiveness. He steps closer to me, only a few inches away from the cigarette that hangs in my mouth. "Listen, I know I hurt you, I know I hurt everyone. I was wrong, I was wrong doing what I did" he apologizes once again. I shake my head, dropping the cigarette on the ground and stomping it out with the toe of my shoe. I look at his face, eyes drifting from his gaze on me to his lips. His fucking lips. It's like they are calling to me. They know I just want to fucking kiss them again. I step towards him, closing almost all the space between us. "Shut up" I mutter. I place my hands on the side of his face, placing my lips on his. He's hesitant at first, but gives in to my touch. Butterflies explode in my stomach, feeling his touch that I felt two years ago. His kiss feels like home. I pull away, the sound of traffic buzzing between our ears.

"I'm sorry" he mutters against my forehead, kissing it.

"I know" I whisper back.