Keira hadnât expected this, to see Mark standing in front of her eyes. He wore a navy suit that fit him perfectly, and his hair styled in an effortless manner. He stood at over 6 feet, towering over Keiraâs meek 5ft 4âł, like it had always been and you could see his clear blue eyes stare her down. His posture was strong, like it had always been and you couldnât tell whether he was happy to see you or not, it was Markâs classic look. He looked well. He looked like Mark. Keira, of course, looked like Keira. Although now in her late 20s, she had remained youthful and maintained that naive look about her, but her few months with Mark meant that her young eyes had seen more than they should have, leaving them dark and filled with memories that still haunted her to this day. The only difference was perhaps the long, silky dark hair that she once cherished had now been cut into a much shorter style, hanging just past her shoulders.
Yet, 5 year on, it still looked like Mark and Keira. Keira and Mark. The couple that hated each other, yet loved each other with such ferocity. 5 years on and they still somehow couldnât escape each otherâs grasp, finding themselves back to where they were previously, before everything happened; a young girl who hated men and a millionaire who hated her. Hate was a strong word, Mark didnât exactly hate Keira, but like all the other Andersonâs, there was just something about her that was annoying and Mark didnât do annoying.
What were they to do? Smile? Act like that one night hadnât tore everything about, that night were they just realized they were too different to make work out. Keira wanted kids, marriage, love. Mark wanted a trophy wife - if that - who we could take to different gatherings to make himself look less lonely. How could they possibly act civil towards each other? They never had, they were always at each otherâs throats, it was a toxic relationship that someone should have stopped from taking place before they both had gotten themselves into such a mess.
Mark, like always, took the first step. Taking an awkward cough, trying to clear the dryness in throat, and a step forward he offered his hand to Keira. âKnightly.â He half-smirked at the nickname, a long running inside joke that had been going on between them since the day they met, which, by coincidence, was the first day they had decided to loathe each other, and both parties would rather die than spend a minute in each otherâs presence. Oh, how things turned around since that first day.
Keira couldnât help but let out a small laugh, because try as she might, she had never truly hated Mark, all she wanted him was to say those 3 words which never seemed to come about. Shaking his offered hand, Keira smiled softly and looked up at Mark, âMr. St James, I hope business has been well to you. How have you been?â And so small talk occurred, neither of them even mentioning their time they spent together, even if it were just a few months. Things seemed normal, small talk was Mark and Keiraâs specialty, because if it wasnât small talk, it was arguing. It wasnât until a bright and bubbly brunette girl came running round the corner, dressed in the most fashionable clothes and expensive pieces of jewelry (most notably a gorgeous diamond ring on her ring finger), that the two went silent again.
Mark looked at the woman, then Keira, then the woman. Something about her seemed familiar, but Keira couldnât put her finger on where she recognized her, where she knew that face. Then, Mark put his arm around the girlâs waist before coughing once more and looking at Keira, but not making direct eye contact, âKeira, you remember Nev?â He gave Nevâs - the girl who Keira had the name to a face now, âNev Flanagan.. My fiance.â
Our muses split up five years ago and suddenly run into each other. Send me âđâ for my museâs reaction to seeing yours.
