it's weird that i'm picturing a day spent with you. we're sitting across each other while i'm drinking my coffee and you're smoking your fourth stick of cigarette. i'm stealing glances then your jaw tenses, you saw me staring, i blushed. i was lighting my first stick of cigarette when you started talking about how the sky was full of stars that night.
you told me you saw a shooting star and i asked you what you wished, you just smiled and took a sip of coffee. i was about to stand up to get us a glass of water when you held my hand, we smiled at each other and then you let go of me. when i returned, you asked me what's the color of your eyes. blue green, i replied.
you looked at me and said, "i wished nothing on that shooting star because my wish's already granted. my eyes were not blue green, they're dull hazel brown eyes. but you still manage to see a wonderful color within it. you're someone who loves me because of what's within me and i love you for that. i love you because you see me as someone i never thought i am. i love you because you love me and my soul. i love you."
but of course that was all in my imagination. will it happen?
i love you, hunter.
YOU ARE READING
Goodbye, Hunter
Short Story❝ you're the reason why there are silhouette dreams and unstitched seams. you're every sonnet i make and the pills i take. you are the one that i love and the one i wish i could have ❞
