Layla
Some time has passed. Some time has passed as we enjoy the beautiful and mesmerizing autumn evening. We walk side by side, occasionally in silence and sometimes simply making small talk as we try to conquer such glaciers in our path. He's as polite and kind as I remember; flaunting a warm smile as I speak about the current movie I'm working on. When I talk, his eyes and attention are all on me as we carry on alongside the sidewalk. For we lose track of time as more than an hour passes, edging far too near midnight. I'd normally never be caught at such time within the depths of the city, but with him, I feel safe. He makes me feel safe, providing a taste of comforting home that I've desperately missed.
There's so much that I want to tell him, so much that I need to tell him as constant thoughts and ideas continue to swarm around my mind. Does he still blame me? Does he still feel the same pain that I endure? When he lays in bed at night, does he think of me? Do his lips crave the sweet kisses that we gifted one another, if only for one more day? With trembling hands, I keep them tucked away hidden within my coat pockets, hoping he can't hear the pounding that is my heart. Unfortunately, spending time with him, just comes so naturally between us. It's effortless, being with him, enjoying the evening by his side. He's still just as warm, kind, candy like, and nurturing than ever. By the smooth selection of words that leave his mouth or the subtle placement of his hand on my waist every instant a ruckus is heard around a bush. He's still the man I fell for so dearly and so badly back in Cannes. He's the essence of summertime happiness in the middle of cold autumn that wishes to transform to New York winter.
"What are you thinking about right now? So quiet," he states, eyes trailing over me.
"Many things, don't know where to begin."
"Then start from the beginning. How have you been? Are you, are you doing good?"
"Yes, I'm alright. How about you? Busier than ever I assume."
He smiles a half smile, not the same smile I adored along the coast of the ocean, but better than nothing entirely. "Things are good, just been touring for a while now. Ever since..."
"Since Cannes?"
"Hmm."
We both don't press on the subject at hand for much longer, wanting to put the past behind us as it continues to haunt our souls, yet in the best possible way. "How much longer do you have on tour?"
"Just a few more days in the city. It wasn't a big one. I just missed it. Traveling here and there, seeing the fans. I felt a bit lonely without it all."
"Why did you want to finish it off in the big apple?"
"No particular reason."
"No?"
His lips curve into a bashful grin as he looks over at me, shaking his head in the process. "You'll laugh. Think I'm crazy."
"Try me."
He wants to pursue such a topic, but hesitation is a great obstacle in the upcoming conversation as he presses his lips together, holding back when I dearly want him to fly. However, it's then that we accidentally come across a small pizza shop near the corner of my building. And despite the current hour, the smell of such savory and wholesome food is inviting and comforting, drawing us both in as we look from outside the window. It's then in which I seem to realize just how much of an appetite I've initiated. He turns to me, asking the obvious question that only comes forth at such a beautiful sight. It's not the question I wanted answered, but I'll take any time with him. I'm not ready to say goodbye, not yet. I do hope that deep down, he feels the same exact way.
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Cannes | H.S
RomanceShe's America's sweetheart. He's a world famous musician, translating personal heartbreak to golden lyrics. A serendipitous encounter along the coast of Cannes sparks a passionate and unexpected romance that will leave the world in awe. "I loved yo...