12 December 2015 — TW: MENTIONS OF DARK THEMES AT END
“For old time’s sake.” He says, a certain softness in his eyes. “Will you dance with me?”
She hasn’t seen him in three years. Neither of them had spoken to each other since. She didn’t think she’d run into him at some local bar on vacation. Countless times she had drafted up texts to see how he was doing and to say that she was sorry for everything that she had done, but she was never brave enough. She still wasn’t.
Her hesitation pokes at heart, though he understands. As he goes to retract his hand, her hand falls into it.
“Okay.” She says. They move to the center of the bar where couples had already joined in. He places his hands on her waist, holding her close. She still smells like vanilla, her hair is brighter. She still looks sad, her eyes are darker.
Her arms wrap around his neck, she tries to avoid eye contact. He looks the same, better even. He has a scruff now and he feels as warm as ever.
“You’re as smooth as Tennessee whiskey, you’re as sweet as strawberry wine,” He whispers into her ear, singing along to the song that plays softly in the bar. His voice is low as he attempts to keep himself quiet, just wanting her to hear as though they were sharing secrets. “You’re as warm as a glass of brandy. And honey, I stayed stoned on your love all the time.”
He picks up one her hands and intertwines it with his, keeping the hold close to his heart. She moves to hide her face in the nape of his neck, eyes closing.
This was how he chose to remember her. On her better days, she was a loving, ambitious, and gentle woman. Despite everything that had happened, he never blamed her for leaving him, just as she never blamed him for wanting to leave. He never faulted her for what happened during and after their relationship. He knew that it wasn’t her, but instead the conditions that she had been forced to survive under. He had loved her every second, a part of him believes that he still does and forever will.
He had always been caring and patient. There were so many times were he had to coax her to unlock the bathroom door and let him in, times where he had to sit by her for hours and convince her to go outside for a walk because she hadn’t gone outside for four days, times where he skipped out on work to make sure that she’d be alive when he got home.
Their time together had gone downhill at an awfully fast pace, but he would have never traded it to be with anyone else. At times, he would blame himself for not being able to help her how he wished he could and hated how useless he felt. All he knew how to do was love her and though she never told him, it was all she needed from him.
Lifting her head from his shoulder, she admires him silently. In her mind, she’s speaking to him and it feels as though he understands every word with how he looks at her.
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes say.
“It’s okay. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” His eyes dart back and forth, studying every inch of her face.
The music stops and he feels her let go.