wywywrites

[wywywrites]

[wywywrites]

Written in the Stars.

He was out later than he planned. Most don’t spend hours at a bookstore. He wore a black tee shirt and blue jeans, with a checkered flannel hanging loosely open as he walk. The cafe he settled in had since closed and chased the only two patrons out of the area.

He had made small glances at this girl who looks to be his age for the past hour or so. She’s roughly five-foot-one with dark hair that drops to her shoulders. She had these deep, mysterious eyes that kept his attention locker. She’s dressed in a black long sleeve that’s exposing her shoulder somewhat. It’s covered by a dark thin jacket. Her jeans tight in the right places.

“You know, you could say hello.”

He snapped out of his thoughts as he walked and noticed that she’s beside him now as they both reach the door. His face flushed a faint pink as he opened the door for her. “After you.” She grind as she walked past him and then stopped abruptly as he followed “Hello.” She greeted.

“Hello.” He plainly spoke and she giggled.

“Gee, how long is it going to take you to ask me name then?” She teased.

His mind whirled as this beautiful girl spoke to him. Not once in his life had he been confident enough to approach someone like this. It never happens. The most might be admiration from afar toward the occasional girl and wondering about saying something, anything. This was surprising. “I’m Lee. What’s your name?”

“Randi.” She briefly stated. Then started to walk with her hands in the pockets of her jacket, gesturing for him to follow. They’re certainly heading away from the parking lot. He decide following a pretty girl might be worth some risk.

“Did you buy a book or anything?” He asked to fill the silence. He noticed she wasn’t carrying anything. She shrugged as they walked beside each other. “I couldn’t find a story I liked, so I chose to make one instead.”

If possible his face turned another shade of pink. She sounded so bold and sure of herself. He clearly was not. “What do you mean?”

She pursed her lips and reached for his hand to lead them into an abrupt left turn. He looked ahead and saw a pier within view. The lighthouse at the end shining brightly. She lead him with purpose as they walk in silence to the edge. The waves crashing gently.

She lets go of his hand and looks up to him. She was much closer than he would have expected. “What’s your sign?”

He paused for a moment, curious on what she’s thinking. “I’m a Virgo.”

She nodded briefly and looked up to the stars as if she knew what they said up in the dark night. “I’m a Pisces. Which, is your perfect match. At least I’d say so. I’ve always felt something toward Virgo men.”

She looked at him again and then to the lighthouse as she took his hand and led them against the lighthouse wall that over looked the body of water. “I was born on February, the 19th.” She mused and gazed at the waves. Even though she was beside him, he could tell her mind was up in the states.

“September 3rd for me.” He shared and that got her attention again.

“So, tell me more. Where you were born. What year. What time.” She encouraged. He found himself willing to share anything with her in this moment. As if she erased his boundaries. He shared his story with her about his life and she seemed like she was lost in thought. Almost as if she’s a computer processing.

“It’s funny, how you randomly find someone there’s this connect you can’t describe. But you feel it so strongly. Maybe the stars aligned for us.”

He found himself lost in thought not as he looked to the softly crashing waves. He didn’t expect to be sitting beside a stranger. Most nights he would be at home and spending him time by himself. Going to sleep early. And now he let this girl lead him over to a spot he had been a million times before. Yet it felt so different. Then she spoke once again.

“I’d argue you’re one to be hard on yourself. That you need to be more confident. You seem so smart. Just reserved. And you need to not be so down about what you haven’t accomplished. You have so much time.”

It was as if she read his mind. Read him like a book. It was uncanny how she pulled those thoughts right from inside him.

“I know I’m right. You’re good looking, you just have to believe it for yourself.” She added with a smile as she looked to him.

“I’m sure I can work on that.” He spoke softly. He didn’t expect these words from this strange girl.

“Oh boy. There you go thinking.” She teased and playfully pushed against him as she laughed. “Loosen up. You’re out with a pretty girl and looking at the stars and waves. This must be the best night of your life.”

He rolled his eyes and felt his body soften. His jaw loosen. For a moment he felt relaxed. Even if he still felt flustered. In this moment he felt brave and then put his arm around her. To which she moved into his body and rested her head on his should as she looked up at him. Like she had looked up at the stars.

Maybe the stars had aligned tonight.

[wywywrites]

How to Not Hold Her Hand

To summon courage was often a difficult endeavor. Butterflies flutter lazily through his stomach as he obsessed over trivial thoughts. It should be simple, really. When holding someone’s hand, all one is really doing is intertwining fingers and lightly squeezing. At least that’s one way to do it. However, overthinking hand holding style defeats the purpose of reaching over and committing to the act.

Now, this really shouldn’t too complicated. She’s right there. Oblivious to the complicated styles of hand holding and how hers would fit in. It would be so easy to brush beside her and take it. Confidence would go a long way. She chattered about something on her mind. Her words go in one ear and venture into the void. She’s super excited about the new books she’s read. Telling you about the wild shit she’s experienced and how she loves it when men take control, fictional men that is. They’re brave.

 “Yeah yeah yeah. I hear you.”. He murmured.

Body language shared the story. His hands deep into his pockets. His back slightly hunched. She barely noticed and accepted the awkwardness.

The funny thing is that she’s talking to someone right now. Someone cooler and more assured. That’s the assumption. But the spending an afternoon together should mean something, maybe. Not that holding her hand would mean anything other than she would look at you annoyed and probably tolerate it until you stopped. Maybe this wouldn’t be the best idea. He looked at her and admired her for a moment. Why was he so infuriated with someone who see him?

“You know, I think I need to head out. A lot of work to do at home.” He excused.

As if she read his mind. Saw him clearly. She frowned and crossed her arms. Her eyes narrowed and fully on him. “Get out of your head and enjoy the day. If you keep having expectations, you’ll only be disappointed.

That didn’t help. Not at all.

“No. I really do have to get going. It was a nice time.”

She sighed and accepted defeat. “Okay, bye.” 

And that was it. She kept walking. Obviously frustrated with how that turned out. He knew better than to call after her because this wasn’t what he had pictured. She feeds off attention and there’s always going to be another guy. So, he turned around and walked the opposite way.

That’s not how to hold her hand. No, not at all.