Wish you knew

"Hi,"

He looks up, smiling so gracefully, that I could literally feel my heart pondering real hard. As if it'd burst out. "Hey,"

"I wanted to tell you something," I say, tightly gripping the paper.

He closes his car's trunk, and says with a little chuckle, "What mess did you make now?"

"It's not a mess."

"I-I like someone," I swear his hands froze. And then with a little, slight tilt of just his neck, he looks at me. "Oh really."

His voice is something I can't make out. "Who?"

His eyes meet mine, yet they don't say anything.

"Someone," I say, in an attempt to avoid this question.

"Someone, I know?"

Turning my head away, I say in a little murmur, "Maybe."

"Does he know?" He says it in a soft voice, but I hear him as he does.

"I don't know."

Tapping my head with his hands, he says, "When are you saying it, dummy?"

"Ouch." I cover the place he just hit, with my hands and ask him, "Have you ever liked someone?" which I know he probably does.

He continues acutely seizing, moulding my heart through his intense gaze. I don't know what's going on inside of his head, but I wish I did.

"Yes," he blinks away, putting the wretch down. "I really like her."

"You still do?"

He nods his head, "Yeah."

"Did you–" I look away, there is a nice beach down the road, which is why our town always has this fresh swarm of air, intently welcoming our every breath. Trust me it doesn't feel good, this thing I am feeling right now doesn't feel good. "Does she know?"

He shrugs, "I don't know."

What? I look back at him. "Do you think she likes you?"

This time he looks at me, long enough for me to feel warmth rushing through my bones, down my spine.

He replies, this time without shrugging "I don't know." URGH AGAIN

I don't know exactly how long we stare into one another's eyes. Nothing but just into our eyes. My gaze shifts from his eyes to the little visible eye bags under them. His hair is smoother than it was the last time I'd seen him. They were even fluffier, a bit darker than they were before. And it seemed he didn't cut his hair for a while, which was cute. His bangs made him look really cute. We don't talk, but it seems as if our eyes talked with each other more intimately than our mouths ever could, at this moment. I don't know what he is thinking, and I don't know how long this gazing session will go on. But regardless, I am liking it. Very much indeed.

And then, out of nowhere, he leans in. Not too much, but now that he leaned, the little space that was left between us is gone. We are so close, we can feel each other's breaths. He bents himself in a little more, so our noses brush against each other. And we end up like this, staring at each other in utmost proximity.

Even though we've been friends for almost one and a half decades by now, this is the closest we've ever been. Or at least the closest collection I have of us. His familiar scent bestrides my soul, snatching my ability to think.

My eyes shake, straddling from his eyes, to his lips, and back to his eyes. I can't think straight at this point. Why is he doing this? What's he thinking?

My eyes waffle back to his lips. His gorgeous pair of lips has a perfect ratio to both of them. Plum, moist, and so damn kissable.

I wanna kiss his lips, hold him tight, run my hand through his silky hair, and tell him how much more he has started meaning to me. Will he lean in more? Or…will I?

Are we gonna kiss?

I couldn't think straight, at all. His musky wood filled my nostrils, messing up my system inside. He smells too good to be true. Weird in fact, but I like it. It's woody, with a touch of softness and warmth, but if you smell it attentively you'd realize it's spicy with a weird tinge of vanilla and fruits.

"This is crazy," My eyes widen as if they'd fall off. Did I hear him correctly? 'Did he just..'

I stare at him, into his eyes. It is getting so hard to maintain my balance. I am practically leaning against his car now, fearing when my legs would just give up and I'd fall hard.

"What?"

He looks from my eyes to my lips, and back to my eyes.

"Is it Olivia?"

A look of perplexity crossed his face, before frowning, "How do you know that?"

He isn't even trying to deny it. I pull his arms and get away from him. Taking a step back, I say "Since when?" Frustration was eating at me. Why would I care, even if he does like her? It doesn't matter. It shouldn't matter.

"What?"

I repeat, "Since when are you into her?"

"Well, it's not. . . It isn't like that yet—"

"Then make it happen??

He pauses, before asking, "What?"

"You shouldn't think so much before starting something if you really do like her," I smile.

He stares deeply for a second, before covering his eyes with his hands. And then he murmured something, I didn't quite catch.

"Never mind, I should um get going now," Rubbing my shoulders, I say

"But wait you-" Cutting him off, I wave to him, "Catch you later," before turning around, and getting the hell out of that place.

Why didn't he deny it? Does that mean he does like her? But. . .how's that possible?

I hug myself, with my arms. I don't like any of this. Why do things have to be this way? It wasn't supposed to. . .How exactly did things turn out like this?

And, why am I being this way? I should be happy if he wants to date someone, even if that isn't me, right?

Cold raindrops unhurriedly pour on my hair. 'It's drizzling,' I stop, and extend my hand, looking as the tiny water drops slowly start cladding my hand.

***

"What are your three favourite things about life?"

"Rain, Hannah Montana, and Dad," I say before looking at him. 'And I think you,' I don't say that out loud.

"You like rain?" He makes a disgusted face.

"Yeah, who doesn't?"

"Well, I don't."

"It's beautifully tragic, Alas. Sitting in the rain, as the clouds, the sky tell me about their sorrows."

He looks at me like that was the dumbest thing he has ever heard. "They TALK? Seriously?"

"I mean yeah? In a way we do. Just that we don't understand those. But think about this, wouldn't it be wonderful to know the reasons behind each raindrop whenever the sky would cry, every time it would?" I pat the space beside me.

He sits there, before saying, "Yeah, but wouldn't it be overwhelming?"

"Overwhelming?" I make a face. "Why?"

He shrugs, "I mean, there are a lot of raindrops each time it rains, so won't it be staggering to hear all that at once?"

"Yeah, a little? But, it would be nice. Really nice to know."

"Scoot away you psychotic pigeon." He says, seeming disgusted.

"Nah think about it."

"This is such a nerdy talk. I don't even want to."

"It's not nerdy, Al."

"Lisa, seriously, you want to talk to individual raindrops now?"

I frown, taking deep disrespect for the way he said that like it really ain't anything. "Yes?"

"This is so stupid."

"No, it's not,"

***

The childish voices and their loud batters slowly faded away, along with their own two little silhouettes. Making me think that, perhaps those fine days, really are gone. Perhaps I am just trying to hold onto false hope, something that was never meant to be for me, and maybe it really was a stupid little crush everyone has on their friends. And that it's not always meant to be.