lovely - Leonardo DiCaprio

20

November 2018

—when I first moved here, I was so nervous, I wasn't looking forward to going anywhere but my hometown.

But now, I guess you could say this has been a great journey.

I won't trade it for anything.

As I look beyond the road, I see him, giving out the most contagious smile. It gives me peace, being around with him.

We used to despise, or not even acknowledge each other, but now, it all fell apart and we do almost everything together.

"Lottie with a mustache!" he says with a laugh, putting a streak of ice cream in between my nose and lips, as he runs away.

"Oh, no you did not!" I answered, running towards him with a broad smile on my face, a melted ice cream wrapped around my palm, ready to throw at him.

I planted the vanilla flavored ice cream right at his face, as he stretches his arms and lifts me up.
"Put me down, you idiot!" I shout, tapping his shoulders continuously as he laughs.

But, apart of me didn't want to. I can't explain it, but I feel such warmth being lifted by him. He loves doing it just so he could drop me unexpectedly.

He finally put me down, placing my feet on the ground as he tries to take the ice cream off of his face.

"Alright, now for the last scene," I exclaimed.
"Heathcliff, it's me, Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in through your window."

"What was it? Oh. Uh, Take me with you, Catherine. I beg of you." he says, changing his emotions in a snap of fingers. He really is a great actor.

"I wish I could hold you 'til we are both dead. But I can't, I'm gone now." I replied.

"Cathy, I loved you so much, that every night, I had to dug up your grave just so I could see you again."

"Ew. Gross," I answered, completely ruining the scene.

"What? That's the script," he replies.

"No, I mean the fact that he had to dug up her grave just so he could see Cathy's dead body. He must've loved her very much," I told him, licking a piece from my ice cream.

Taking a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth, he mutters, "Mm, I could understand him."

"What, you're that in love?"

"N-no. Not yet, I don't know. I mean, if you really love someone, and they're gone but you can't let them go, I wouldn't blame them."
"Can't imagine the pain," he added.

As I was in complete silence, eating my ice cream, he looked at me and says, "I'm excited for tomorrow."

"You're gonna nail it," I gave out a smile, referring to the play.

"Aren't you tired of us here, always eating ice cream?" he asks.

I shook my head, "No, not really. I could never get tired of ice cream," I said, as I let out a chuckle.

He looked straight ahead, and asks, "Lottie, can I ask what do you want to be when you grow up?"

"O-oh. Uh," I stammered, giving out a sigh.
"I've always pictured myself, in Paris. Studying at Sorbonne, and becoming a writer."
"But, given our state, it seems impossible. But I believe I can do i–"

"I know you will," he cuts me off, still looking straight ahead.

Unintentionally smiling, "Thanks," I muttered.