Fix You [#Wattys2016]

How We Met

I was sitting on a windowsill in the dorm hallway and smoking my third cigarette. That day was not a good day. A friend of mine died in a car accident. My best friend's mother overdosed.

A baby was screaming in the distance; a new life already feeling the world's pain.

''Hey,'' a calming voice woke me up from my daydreaming. I looked to my right and there he was, the owner of the voice. My dorm neighbor whom I had only seen for a second the first day I got here. He was leaning on the wall, holding a guitar.

''Hey,'' I said back, my voice hollow from hours of silence.

''I'm Michael.''

''Daria. Pleased to meet you.''

We shook hands, staring at each other's eyes for too long. His were blue and smiling, mine were hazel and scared. I hated meeting new people, the awkwardness of everything made my hands tremble.

He went back to the wall, strumming the guitar. We started talking about those basic things you talk about when you meet someone. He was two years older than me, we had the same major and taste in music. He loved to read. He was in a band.

Then the silence came and I went back to staring through the window.

''That day I first saw you, you looked like you needed a hug. And you look like that now, too,'' he said.

''Well, I hate hugs,'' I said and lit another cigarette.

''Why?''

''People never let go at the same time.''

He stopped strumming the guitar and looked into my eyes. We said nothing.

All of a sudden a mug or a glass broke and someone shouted:

''Yo, Michael, you're gonna kill me, man!''

Michael apologized for the interruption and we said goodbye. I heard a joyful shout coming from his room.

'Time for another cigarette,' I thought to myself, 'and trouble.'