The World As It Is ; m.c.

Running Far.

Fall

verb, gerund or present participle: Falling

1. move downward, typically rapidly and freely without control, from a higher to a lower level

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Michael and I were sitting on his bed, watching some movie on Netflix. We weren't really watching it though, Michael was texting some guys he'd met at school, something about a band or something about the summer, I couldn't remember. I was texting Dawn, so I couldn't really get mad at him for texting while we were doing movie night.

After the horribly awkward moment where I had asked Dawn to dance with me, things had gotten better. We ended up spending the rest of the dance together. She actually laughed at my corny jokes and I swear it was only half forced. When I would say a lame joke, she would respond with an even worse pun. We were awkwardly dancing and laughing at our own jokes that barely passed for funny for the rest of the dance.

That was two years ago. Since then, so much had happened. She and I had gone on our first date, at a pizza restaurant that Michael had suggested. We had talked about the movie we wanted to see, the new Marvel movie that was coming out. Dawn had begun to rant about why Black Widow should have her own movie and reasons why that movie would be badass. I just listened and laughed, loving her more.

For two years, we'd stayed at each other sides. Despite the fights, the arguments, the disagreements, we'd stayed. Because, for every fight, argument and disagreement, there was a good moment. Something Dawn had said to me when she was being romantic. She could be romantic, unlike me. She was a romantic dork.

My romantic dork.

"Wait! What just happened?" Michael asked suddenly. I looked up from my phone and saw a million things explode on the screen.

"Have you been paying attention?" I asked, trying to figure out what was happening in the movie as a car exploded and people screamed on the streets.

"No, I've been texting Calum."

"Who?" I asked, trying to think back if I knew a Calum, but I couldn't remember. I slightly remembered Michael talking about a Calum before, but that was about it.

"Look, more explosions. Is this a Michael Bay movie?" Michael asked sarcastically as more things exploded in the movie.

"What movie are we even watching?" I asked, looking up at Michael.

"Well, I thought it was Anchorman, but clearing it isn't," Michael mumbled, tapping the screen to pause the movie, "do you want to watch Anchorman instead?"

"Yeah." I nodded as Michael changed the movie. I looked back down at my phone.

Dawn: I'm sorry I gtg

Dawn: byeeeeeeee love you xxxx

I smiled at my phone, forgetting that she couldn't actually see me. Feeling like a dork, I hoped Michael hadn't seen me smiling at my phone. He leaned back after pressing play on Anchorman and I decided to rest my head on him, making him my pillow. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, bringing me closer to him.

We sat like that on his bed, watching the new movie. His arm was wrapped around me, holding me closely as my head rested against his chest. I felt his heart beat and his breathing fall into a slow pattern. The rhythm of it calming me, my eyelids growing heavy and I gave in, closing them finally.

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The movie played on with Sophia curled up against her best friend, Michael. He didn't want to move, in case it might wake her up and the moment would be lost. He wanted to stay like this forever, actually. It was a dangerous thought to have about your best friend, but he didn't have anything left to lose, he'd already fallen in love with her long ago. Besides, he'd accepted that he'd fallen for her and that she had run away from him, running fast and far towards Dawn. She was so far away from him now, that she was only a speck in the horizon.

Her arm had wrapped around his chest and he could feel her breathing, her heart thudding softly. Something happened in the movie, but Michael wasn't paying attention anymore, he never actually had been. He'd stopped paying attention around the same time that he'd become distracted by Sophia.

He had been distracted for a long time.

He could see them as kids again, hanging out in their tree. The leaves were changing again and everything seemed so beautiful, the air was warm while the wind was cold. The world had been painted in reds, oranges and yellows. Sophia had her back up against the tree, sitting with her legs crossed, looking at the sky.

"It's pretty," Sophia had stated.

"Yeah, it is," Michael had agreed. staring up at the sky as well, the sky was that colour of blue again.

"The world is so pretty, Mikey," Sophia had mused, and at the time the world had been pretty.

He looked back at the sleeping girl, remembering all the things they'd done as kids, smiling to himself. He couldn't remember exactly when he'd begun to love her, but at some point it had been the beginning to his love and the end to it, seemed as far away as Sophia herself. A tragic love story.

They had a love story, as messed up as it was. Not the kind of love story you read in a John Green book or see in a Nicholas Sparks movie. It was their love story, about two really, really good friends.

Michael was fine with that kind of love story.

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I woke up, noticing I had fallen asleep on top of Micheal. His arm was wrapped around me still, holding me to him, it also prevented me from getting up. I didn't want to wake him, so I tried to wiggle out of his arms, almost knocking over his laptop. He stirred a little, but didn't wake up.

His hair was a mess, he was breathing softly and his arms were flung across his bed awkwardly from when I had tried to wiggle out. He looked peaceful. I leaned down and gave him a kiss on his forehead, before turning to the window.

I opened it as quietly as I could, pulling myself up onto his window sill. I reached my hands out, lifting my window up and sliding through it into my room. I knocked over a lamp by accident and it landed with a loud clang. I cringed, hoping I didn't wake my family up.

It had woken Michael up and he was standing by his window, looking at me. I jumped back, startled.

"Sorry, I didn't want to wake you," I whispered, putting the lamp back on my desk.

"It's okay," he whispered back, rubbing one of his eyes, "night Sophie."

"Night Mikey." We closed our windows. I went into my bed without checking my phone, I didn't see the message that was there waiting for me.