I look in shock at the surprised face of the tall blonde sitting next to me. "What're you doing here? What am I doing here?"
"Could you... let go, first?" he answers hesitantly, not looking at me, but at our hands.
When I follow his gaze, I notice that it is indeed just me that is holding on. If I let go now, is it all over? Will he walk out and never come back? Unsure, I keep staring at his hand, enjoying the warmth and softness of it, grasping it tightly.
With neither of us answering each other's questions, silence falls upon us. Why would he be here? His presence pains me, but I wouldn't want him to leave me, ever.
My heart is pounding, it's getting harder to breathe, and my face is feeling warm. It hurts. But no matter how much I feel it, the tears won't come. There's no way to let it out. The pain increases, slowly taking a hold of every part of my body.