FINGERTIPS ║ Larry Stylinson

37 ║ The Unexpected

October 15th

When he had received the call, he had been surprised, scared even. Well, absolutely terrified. He hadn't expected to hear that one voice ever again, he had always believed it was done, definitely over, that there was nothing more to say. He hadn't moved on, not entirely, he knew it each time he would look in the mirror and shed tears on the scale. But he thought she had moved on. He had assumed she hated him now, that she had also probably spread rumours about him already. It was sad, thinking the only person he used to trust and cherish could do that to him. But she had called. And here he was, in the café they used to sit and work on college assignments together. He was waiting for her, incredibly anxious. His heart was beating hard and painfully in his chest. His throat was dry and his hands sweaty. It was never planned, it was not how it was supposed to happen. But he didn't mind. He had shared his life with her for about two long years. No matter what happened during those months, it had happened. It was supposed to happen. Just like he was supposed to break up with her and fall for a boy. That was meant to happen and he could never change things. But he couldn't deny the fear hammering his stomach and crashing his lungs.
When she arrived, he was surprised, shocked even. Because she was not wearing any expensive pieces of clothing like she used to. She was wearing one of his large Adidas hoodie and one of his pair of Adidas sweatpants. It reminded him he had never even taken the time to pick up all the clothes he had left at her place. The hood was covering her hair and she looked exhausted. She had no make up on although he knew how she loved using it and playing with it. She walked toward him and when she flashed him a smile, he noticed how fake it looked, almost as sad as his. Louis stood up and opened his arms with a soft smile plastered on his thin chapped lips. After a second of hesitation, Tamara slid into his embrace and they wrapped their arms around each other. That relationship had hurt him, badly. It had thrown him on the cold floor, naked and beat him until he couldn't breathe anymore. It had slashed his heart with sharp blades, over and over again. Her words had slashed his flesh. It happened, yes. But she was her, just her. This girl standing in front of him, hugging him, she looked more like the one he had met years ago than the one he had broken up with some months ago. And it felt reassuring. It comforted him. She hadn't pointed out his weight or his outfit yet and he hoped she wouldn't. It felt too good to end. Too nice to stop it and go back to the pain. When she let him go and stepped back, her eyes were glassy. She slid slowly on the booth and he did the same in front of her.

"I ordered your favourite hot chocolate." he said, pointing at the drink in front of her.

She smiled and nodded, without a word. She looked at him through her lashes for a while, silent. It was heavy and tense for a while, none of them talked, dared to say anything. None dared to open their mouth to break the painful silence and make more painful noises. She was so silent, so calm, looked so sad and tired. He had rarely ever seen her like that, probably never if he was completely honest. Of course questions was burning his tongue but he kept them in, shushed them. He observed quietly as she sipped a bit of the drink, licking her upper lip to get the whipped cream off and sat straight.

"How are you feeling?" she suddenly asked.

Did she expect him to say he felt bad, to say he was miserable without her? Did she expect him to say he needed her near him, that he could never live without her by his side? Was it all an attempt to get him back? He plastered a large smile on his lips, stretching them as his cheeks went up and crashed his eyes painlessly.

"Pretty good, college had started again and it's great, I missed it. What about you?"

Once he was done lying, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked down to her laps. It didn't seem to be the answer she was expecting. It didn't seem to make her happy to know he was feeling good, even without her. When she slid the hood off her head, showing her hair, he stopped breathing for a moment. It was short, really short. Her usual long waves were more tight and messy on her head. It was almost as short as his and he couldn't bring himself to say anything.