Written in 2nd person, Meant to be a love story, but with a twist.
You sit there, legs crossed, surveying. You are waiting for him to meet you. Even though the park always calms you down, today it was having no effect. You jump each time you hear the crunch beneath footsteps get closer but then relax when they carry on away from you. The sight of spiked chocolate brown hair makes you flinch. Rubbing your palms your white dress, you look down at your watch. 4:28pm. you try to reason with yourself, remembering that he is never early. Sometimes he’ll be on time; but nevertheless, always late. Today wasn’t going to be any different.
You sigh, realising it’s pointless getting stressed out waiting for him, and close your eyes, hopeful to imagine something to take your mind of this anxious situation you’ve thrown yourself into.
Your mind drifts to the other night. You both were sat in the garden on your roof, just talking. You hadn’t seen him in a while due to the 12-hour shifts he’s been doing. He complains, but you know he doesn’t mind; it’s money at the end of the day and it’s nice to get out of the house. But luckily, he got today off, and decided to spend it with you. He always did know how to make you feel wanted and special. He started to roll up a cigarette, whilst continuing to talk to you, asking how you’ve been etc. He suddenly goes into detail about how he’s missed you and it’s been killing him not being able to talk to you for so long. You smile at remembering these little things. It was one of the few moments when he opens up to you. These are the moments that give you hope that he wants something more than whatever was between you two now.
The touch of cold skin upon your face drags you back to reality sharply and your heart quickens. You realise someone is covering your eyes and therefore darkness engulfs you. You relax and smile when a soothing husky voice speaks.