Sequel: Dear Liz ›
Dear John
I need you so much closer
For some time I believed he was intoxicated and just wanted a cigarette and that was the sole reason he had spoken to me the other night. However, the next party we both attended, he offered one of his Marlboros and, with that, the cigarette break became a tradition in which we would both go out and sit –when the party was at Jackie's it was always on that bench across her house– and smoke and talk about anything and everything.
We would talk a bit about sports and politics. A little bit more about video games and movies. And we could have spent hours talking about the meaning of life and –of course– music.
Anyway, this one night we were sitting on that bench of mine like we did, (I made him agree that it was mine and only mine because a weekend ago I had written my name on it with a sharpie) taking a step closer to lung cancer.
"So… tour starts tomorrow. Are you excited?" Immediately after finishing the question, a silly grin appeared on his face and a lovely gleam appeared in his eyes.
"Yeah," he answered happily. "I mean…I'll miss home and all but seeing new places and being able to play for so many different people is just…it's great." I smiled.
"Aww…I'll have to go back to smoking alone at parties," I said, pouting. He let a small laugh –a simple "ha-ha-ha" that made my heart bounce– and one of those comfortable silences, now common between us, took place.
From the corner of my eye I looked at him; the streetlight above us gave his skin and the smoke that left his lips an orangish hue and his eyes a glow of the same tone.
In high school you'd hear all these girls talking about his cute face, his nice hair and his hot body, John this, John that...but I never saw it. I mean, I knew he was good-looking but I didn't know what all the fuss was about. I actually thought he was quite a douchebag.
However, now sitting next to him and having done so for a fair number of days, I realized what a beautiful person he was, both outside but so much more on the inside and I wondered if all those gushing girls were aware of that back then.
At some point during this train of thought of mine, without noticing, I'd stopped looking discreetly at him and my head had fully turned to look at his smoking profile. When I realized what I was doing and before I could turn away, his eyes met mine and he smiled. I'm pretty sure a tinge of pink graced my cheeks as I smiled back.
I wasn't sure what would be more awkward; if turning away or keep looking at him. In the end, I opted for the later as he didn't seem to have any intentions of breaking the eye contact.
His smile disappeared as his eyes went from mine to my lips to my hair and, finally, went back to staring at me. Then he pursed his lips and looked away and, before I had time to process it, his face was getting closer to mine.
His thin, soft lips made contact with my cheek, electrifying first that spot and then my whole body. If my face wasn't pink before, I was certain it was red now.
As he sat back I was tempted to feel with my fingers the spot he had kissed but I refrained as I feared the feeling of his lingering touch might've disappeared.
"What was that for..?" I asked with a smile and an arched eyebrow, trying to hide my embarrassment. He didn't look the slightest bit nervous as he shrugged with a smile.
He got up and looked at me. "I better go now; I have a big day tomorrow. I'll see you in a couple of weeks." I nodded and watched him make his way towards his car.
"John!" He was already about 10 feet away when I suddenly –and without thinking– got up and called his name. He turned on his heel an waited for me to speak.
I didn't have anything to say…so I just ran towards him, into his arms, and planted a passionate, sweet, sweet kiss on his lips that he gladly returned.
I'm just kidding.
That's what I would have wanted to do. What I should have done, perhaps.
Instead, I just opened and closed my mouth a couple of times –probably looking like a retarded goldfish– and, then, I finally spoke and the pathetic words that left my stupid mouth were:
"Take care."
We would talk a bit about sports and politics. A little bit more about video games and movies. And we could have spent hours talking about the meaning of life and –of course– music.
Anyway, this one night we were sitting on that bench of mine like we did, (I made him agree that it was mine and only mine because a weekend ago I had written my name on it with a sharpie) taking a step closer to lung cancer.
"So… tour starts tomorrow. Are you excited?" Immediately after finishing the question, a silly grin appeared on his face and a lovely gleam appeared in his eyes.
"Yeah," he answered happily. "I mean…I'll miss home and all but seeing new places and being able to play for so many different people is just…it's great." I smiled.
"Aww…I'll have to go back to smoking alone at parties," I said, pouting. He let a small laugh –a simple "ha-ha-ha" that made my heart bounce– and one of those comfortable silences, now common between us, took place.
From the corner of my eye I looked at him; the streetlight above us gave his skin and the smoke that left his lips an orangish hue and his eyes a glow of the same tone.
In high school you'd hear all these girls talking about his cute face, his nice hair and his hot body, John this, John that...but I never saw it. I mean, I knew he was good-looking but I didn't know what all the fuss was about. I actually thought he was quite a douchebag.
However, now sitting next to him and having done so for a fair number of days, I realized what a beautiful person he was, both outside but so much more on the inside and I wondered if all those gushing girls were aware of that back then.
At some point during this train of thought of mine, without noticing, I'd stopped looking discreetly at him and my head had fully turned to look at his smoking profile. When I realized what I was doing and before I could turn away, his eyes met mine and he smiled. I'm pretty sure a tinge of pink graced my cheeks as I smiled back.
I wasn't sure what would be more awkward; if turning away or keep looking at him. In the end, I opted for the later as he didn't seem to have any intentions of breaking the eye contact.
His smile disappeared as his eyes went from mine to my lips to my hair and, finally, went back to staring at me. Then he pursed his lips and looked away and, before I had time to process it, his face was getting closer to mine.
His thin, soft lips made contact with my cheek, electrifying first that spot and then my whole body. If my face wasn't pink before, I was certain it was red now.
As he sat back I was tempted to feel with my fingers the spot he had kissed but I refrained as I feared the feeling of his lingering touch might've disappeared.
"What was that for..?" I asked with a smile and an arched eyebrow, trying to hide my embarrassment. He didn't look the slightest bit nervous as he shrugged with a smile.
He got up and looked at me. "I better go now; I have a big day tomorrow. I'll see you in a couple of weeks." I nodded and watched him make his way towards his car.
"John!" He was already about 10 feet away when I suddenly –and without thinking– got up and called his name. He turned on his heel an waited for me to speak.
I didn't have anything to say…so I just ran towards him, into his arms, and planted a passionate, sweet, sweet kiss on his lips that he gladly returned.
I'm just kidding.
That's what I would have wanted to do. What I should have done, perhaps.
Instead, I just opened and closed my mouth a couple of times –probably looking like a retarded goldfish– and, then, I finally spoke and the pathetic words that left my stupid mouth were:
"Take care."
♠ ♠ ♠
Posted this one to make up for the very short –but necessary– chapter 3.Enjoy. :)