"Tell me how I got home again?"

"You took the train, then walked a bit to your apartment."

"Oh. What day is it?"

"Saturday."

"Kate?"

"We parted with her in the train at a different station. She said she had a good time."

"It's winter break."

"Yes it is."

"How did you get home?"

"I took the train, and walked a bit to your apartment."

"Funny. Where do you live again?"

"Further down town, on Westchester's."

Finally, you look up at my face. Not just glance to make sure who I was like when you first woke up, but actually look at me. My reflection. My mess. The smothered eyeliner and bird's nest of a hair. You looked confused. I wonder if I should explain myself. If I should explain why I bothered so much about what he did and if he would end up okay.

"Someone had to make sure you got home safe. Now stop asking shit and take the aspirin."

Green. Blue. Blue. Shades of last night. You couldn't shut up about Kate and I couldn't shut up about how I longed for you and you were blind and you replied with "I'm blinded by the light in her eyes," and I sighed a white mist out of my mouth and wiped the tears with my free hand and heaved your arm over my shoulder to make sure you didn't fall on the icy cold tar below us. I wanted to kiss you, I wanted to kiss you and the alcohol mixed in your saliva so that I could be as drunk as you, drunk enough to do things without thinking it through, but I was still sober, too sober, that I thought it wouldn't be right for you, because you wouldn't remember a thing, and I wanted you to know how my lips taste like, and not merely just as memories - I wanted you to know them, so I'll wait.

Blue. White. White and black. The lines that sketch our surroundings. You took the shirt off your back without saying a word and headed to the showers. I stood in your room silently, waiting for you to say something but you kept quiet, the shower running steadily, water hitting the tiled floor in a tempo. I waited, until you came out in a towel around your waist, a surprised expression on. I walked out of your room and you said loudly that we're heading out so I decided to wash up at the guest room - a familiar place, unlike his own room. When I look in the mirror, it's terrible to see what I've become in one night. Winter break. Bar party with classmates. It was horrible.

We laughed and drank and talked in loud, rowdy voices as if nothing was wrong when everything was. He looked at her and I looked at him and she looked at the boy with dark blond curls growing down his thick neck and we glanced back to our drinks, letting the rocks hit against the glass, clinkering against each other, eyes subtly saying everything we couldn't say, so no one made eye contact. Little that we know that later the girl would be locking lips with him and I would be there to watch and he would be sighing about his dreams coming true (but they were all lies and I couldn't tell you) and I would be sighing my misery away (but it decided to stay).

I washed up, and when the soap started to get too painful for my eyes I decided it was a sunglasses type of day, and I slipped on a sweater over last night's blouse and jeans and hopefully the coat and scarf was enough to cover up the scent of last night (although it probably reminded me more of how real it was). You were in fresh clothes, looking nothing like last night, except for the dark circles under your eyes, and you wore last night's coat and scarf too, and the lift flashed back memories of me sobbing and you singing while standing against the cold metal casing. But today you stood still and quiet, except for the slow hum of the machine moving and the "Coffee?" that I could only hear because everything else was so quiet. I glanced at your dark eyes for a second and looked away, nodding.

We walked side to side to a place we both knew, closely but not close enough. I wanted to pull his hand closer and lock arms with him but at this point I don't know what he's thinking and although it's probably about Kate I didn't want to give any more impressions that I loved him or anything like that so I ignored the idea. Sitting across from each other in the cafe didn't help, when our knees were almost touching and out feet trying not to knock each other out of the way. Finally we started talking like before and you told me to take off my glasses and although I didn't want to at first I melt at your every word and you tried not to laugh but it's okay because when you laugh I laugh and you're the cutest thing when you do so and I both hate it and love it and you bring out both the darkest and lightest sides of me and I feel miserable knowing you're not mine.

And as we walked back to my place I knew nothing will ever be right but if you walk with me like this everyday maybe I would be miserable but I would be miserable with you and that's fine. Smothered eyeliner and alcohol breaths, were all fine. I would be here and you would be here too. So I gave you a long hug before heading down to my basement apartment, embracing the fact that you are here, now, with me, and not with her, who would eventually break your heart, but I would be there to listen to it shatter.

Green. Blue. White. The colors of your scarf. Black. Black. White. The colors of the night sky. Flashes, flashes. "I'll be fine. See you."

Labels: romance, slice-of-life