It always ends

thirty

Harper

It became a routine, he would pick me up from my place, drop me off at work and take care of whatever business he had to deal with. In the afternoon, I'd go home and relax. Drink in the peacefulness the universe had to offer. My chest filled with gratitude as the days went by, for the tomorrows we got.

We spent most of our time together and I could feel myself growing happier each day. No hesitation, no worries. It's been a while since I felt so overwhelmed. In this moment, I floated peacefully. Unafraid of falling. Because I already fell.

I just got to his apartment. Doing what he'd always done, showed up unannounced. I planned on surprising him. I made dinner for us. Rice with rosemary, basil, thyme, oregano and parsley, lemon chicken and baked potatoes. A greek dish I absolutely adored.

I put the medium sized dish on his counter and preheated the oven for 325 degrees. I needed to toss it in there for twenty minutes to warm it up. Once that was in, I went to the living room and retrieved my book from the coffee table and flipped to my bookmarked page.

Salem bumped into my leg, and was shortly after chased away by Jelly. I laughed, watching them play a game of tag. Everything about this, simply felt right. Like in this moment in time, I'd stay here forever.

I found home with him. Whether we were at my place or his.. Or even walking down the streets of Brooklyn together, hand in hand. Home was all around us.

From the two week old sage green and white contrasting walls to the carpet we picked out together, to the bookshelf we built that covered almost one side of the walls, to the two cats playing. It was perfect, as perfect something so imperfect could be.

I buried my face in my book and lost all sense of time. Until the timer went off, I put down the book and got up, going back into the kitchen. I used a pair of oven mittens to take out the dish, setting it aside on the counter. I took off the tinfoil and put it in the trash. Opening the cupboards, I got two plates and filled them with food then took two sets of utensils, placing them next to the plates.

The aroma filled the kitchen and I almost thought about eating without him. But that would defeat the purpose of it all. I planned to make him eat dinner with me. Afterwards, I'd take him to the theatre to see a series of performances of Shakespearean tales.

For some reason, I remembered this specific thing he did. Mid september, sophomore year, english class. We had many classes together, and it made me wonder why I never really paid attention to the world around me. Meaning, I didn't exactly notice him.

Only, I did. I've watched him from afar. Back then, I didn't know what it was. A sense of familiarity? Home? Love? But there was something pulling me to him. And little did I know, it'd turn out to be everything.

Anyways, back to English class. He was sitting at the back of the room, behind me and the teacher called on him to answer the question on "Romeo and Juliet."

Naturally, I knew he didn't read it. We had lockers next to each other and I saw him simply leave it in his, not bothering to spare the book a glance. Hell, he never even showed up to class. But that day was one of those days where he did and for some reason, it made me happy. I walked in that morning, saw him in the spot behind mine and smiled to myself, feeling something igniting in my chest. The fire that started it all.

He sat there, shrugged nonchalantly and I felt the urge to help him. So I slid my paper over to him and he read it smoothly out loud, changing a few words so I wouldn't get caught. The teacher was impressed and I wanted to laugh.

When he was done, he nodded at me and we never interacted much again after that. Until that night, two years later. And that led back to this moment right here.