Mailboy (Wattys 2015 Winner)

26. All About You

"You're all I need. According to your heart, my place is not deliberate. Feeling of your arms, I don't wanna be your friend. I wanna kiss your neck." - the 1975

Nicolas Bear Forrest

"I'M sorry for the waste of time. I'm sorry for our friendship. I'm sorry for trying to be your friend. I'm sorry for appreciating you as a human being. I'm sorry for seeing your bad side and not running off. I'm sorry I even tried to be someone in your life. I'm sorry for the two times we've kissed and the kiss from two seconds ago, when you kissed me," she said.

The tears on her cheeks prevented my thoughts from properly functioning. "I really am sorry. But you know what? You broke into my life too and impacted it in ways I never thought you would. Don't act like the fucking victim."

As she walked away, I had the uncontrollable impulse to run towards her and beg her to stay. But the hot trace that her hand left on my cheek made me think otherwise. Her lips; which had not kissed me back; I wanted them back on my own.

It felt right.

The wrenching fights we had, her arms around me, being the reason for her smile, the glint of agita in her eyes when I made her worry, taking care of her when she was sick, her undeniable attempts to be funny and the biting comebacks we fired at each other every single day-it felt more right than anything I had ever experienced in my life.

I kissed her because first of all, it was the right thing to do and second: because she looked like an angry mess of a goddess when she was mad at me.

But she was gone.

"Fuck," I mumbled. I kicked the fence and stared out into rainy New York City. This wasn't how I imagined any of it to be-my first visit here. It was supposed to be one of the best days; I would've walked around until my legs hurt and visited every piece of it. I would've had to sprint to the airport, because I was having so much fun I forgot to get to the airport early.

Here I was, hours later, in a plane back to Ottawa. I caught a glimpse of her sitting down seats away from me, bobbing her head to music. She still managed to look adorable even after rain. I could've walked towards her and asked the person beside her to change places, but I didn't.

"Hi there!" said the girl next to me, overly optimistic and joyful.

I pulled out my earphones and stared at her. "Hi." I put my music back in.

She frowned and glared at me, "I was going to start a conversation with you, wasn't I? Don't block me out."

"For fuck's sake," I whispered, obliging to her request, "What do you want?"

Her long brown hair was tucked into a low bun and her eyes were a shade darker than Zoey's, she was attractive, but she wasn't her. "I'm bored. Can you stop being rude for a second, please? I won't bother you."

But you are, I thought.

"I'm Lena," she stuck out her hand.

I shook it for her sake, "I'm Nico." Her hand was incredibly soft to touch.

"So, what brings you to Ottawa?" She said.

"My dad lives there," I replied. "You?"

She smiled, it looked good on her, "I'm opening a photography shop soon and I heard that Ottawa has a beautiful place called Rideau Canal, so I'm going there! Plus, I'm kind of in love with traveling!"

All I could say was: "Interesting." The last chords of Remembering Sunday by All Time Low were faintly blasting from the earphones on my lap. Annoyance sprung at the fact that I missed the last part, which was my favorite.