The other word is far gentler...it can be a whisper, or perhaps even almost-sigh like...it can be uttered emphatically or reluctantly. He heard this word barely as he strolled from the flower shop.
Wait.
In the full of falling snow and the slight wind he wasn't sure if he heard it or wanted to hear it or pretended to hear it. So he safely didn't look back in the slight chance that he might once again be wrong.
But he stopped...watching the plumes of his breath lighten the air around him.
She darted around him, head down and held out a hand to his arm to hold him still.
Wait. She looked at him with a curious gaze, probably (he thought) because she had never called him back. Ever.
You...she started...smiling...yes, you do amuse me. You make me smile. But that is a good thing.
He took a step forward, forcing her to walk back a step.
It's not amusing to me. It's like being a fucking cat toy.
She blinked...is that how it feels?
It is. And it's fucking exhausting.
The snow was starting to mix with pellets of rain, and the sizzle as it hit the hard ground swirled around them.
I'm not trying to pull you along. I'm, I'm just exposing a layer to you in my own time.
And what's underneath all of those layers.
She pulled her arm back to her and wrapped them around her.
The whole of me.
The hole of you?
With a w...whole...the entirety...
Well I feel like I've fucking fallen into the hole of you...with an h.
She smiled slightly.
The sleet snow mix was sprinkled in her hair, dampening it down, tightening the frame around her face...the cold had brought a rouge to her cheeks and her nose, the breath plume white and her eyes very very dark. She looked cold. Beautifully cold. And for a moment he realized it was because of him that she looked this way, in the cold...wet and shivering, but staying.
I feel like I'm playing a Rubik's Cube but with one tile color missing...so I will never be able to put it together perfectly.
Are you saying I have a flaw? She said it slightly irritated.
Even if you had one I doubt I'd find it...you and all your goddamn layers.
She laughed at that.
Okay...a bit true.
He reached over and pushed some of the gathered snow from her hair, feeling the damp.
You should get going he said, playing very gently with her hair. She nodded.
I will. Again, that deep-end inhale...so what do we do next?
He took a step back, framed her in the day, light fading very quickly and the snow much more rain than ice.
You tell me he said.
Okay. She took a step closer to bind the distance, and then a half step so she was clearly in his space.
Keep doing this.
Doing what? he said.
This. The things you do...that only you do...that make you different.
With that she put her hand on his slightly and turned and walked briskly away.
He watched her disappear as the rain took over and the sidewalk matched the sky...and he realized how he didn't feel cold...but couldn't describe what he felt.
He saw some petals from the flowershop strewn nearby, moving slightly as the rain drops pelted them. He picked up a handful, put them in his pocket and started walking in the rain, in the exact opposite direction from where she had departed.
At least this time he knew there was going to be a next time.
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