Work Text:
I kept the mobile on the nightstand.
The dawn has just begun, the sparrows are chipping outside the apartment.
The curtains are blowing by the wind, the sun's rays slowly shimmering in.
It's warm. Even though there's no air conditioner on. Weird.
I searched for a kuromini stuffed toy. It smells like him. I'd put on the perfume he wears on it.
A voice dances along the walls,
‘Alabama, Arkansas,
I do love my ma and pa,
not the way that I do love you,’
And my breath hitches. There's an imaginary image slipping in my mind,
And all I see is,
Tee.
The kitchen is filled with melody, he is standing behind me, hands around my waist as he pecks my neck.
I'm wearing one of his t-shirts, the smell of it blooms something in my chest. I love the way he smells.
His breath is ticklish on my skin.
“Tee!!” I giggled.
“Hm?” He continues the action.
“If you keep doing this, you'll not get coffee, baby.” And here it comes. The nicknames
Baby, darling, love and what so over. It never stops slipping out of my mouth.
“I do.” He nods.
I sighed.
Oh god, I love this man so much. So damn much that it almost makes me cry.
Suddenly he pulls me close, so close, and murmurs the song playing in the background.
“I do love my ma and pa,
not the way that I do love you.”
“I really do.” He adds once other lyrics start playing.
I'd turn around and wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him. I hid my face in his neck. Flustered.
So warm and soft. And something.
“I love you. I love the way you smell.” I spoke against his skin.
Somehow, we ended up sitting on a breakfast table. The cold coffees long forgotten.
There is a resemblance of my childhouse in this apartment we share.
Yellow curtains. We'd picked up together that day.
I look around to make myself believe that this is real.
“When we left. I thought it's gonna be okay. But hear the playlist playing?” I'd begun.
“It's about you.” I confessed.
“Your best friend told me.” You'd tease.
“Never had a bestfriend.” I'd say.
“Liar.”
“Really!” I will try to make you believe me.
Really.
No one.
Just.
You.
°
‘Holy moly me oh, my,
You're the apple of my eye,
girl I've never loved like you.’
°
Another image.
We are lying on a bed, it's afternoon, maybe winter.
You are playing with my hair as I pull you closer to my chest.
“I love you, baby.” The nicknames again.
“I know.” You'd say.
I know you know but I love telling you.
I never thought this could be real.
Something cracks.
This feels too real.
Too warm.
And tears rolled down my cheeks.
You'd pull me back and wipe them. Whispering sweet nothings.
Too real. Too warm. So much.
I'd keep telling you things that I once wished you'd hear from me.
°
‘Man, oh man, you're my best friend
I scream it to the nothingness
There ain't nothing that I need.’
°
“We really are best friends!” I'd shout to whoever asked what we were.
It was easy.
Always.
Bestfriends.
Nothing more.
But I felt it as a lie as I spoke it.
Remember confessing? Random I love yous and baby, darlings and what not.
Bestfriends. Only that.
But we'd get jealous about small things.
But what if we had dated? We would have spoken nicknames, now without hesitating.
I would have written you poems. Oh, a lot of them.
Everything would have worked out. At least you were the one who knew me the best.
°
‘Well, hot and heavy pumpkin pie,
chocolate candy, Jesus Christ,
Ain't nothing please me more than you.’
°
I feel down sometimes, Tee and all I could wish is to hug you.
There are many things which make me happy but all I could wish for is you.
Do you think of me too?
When you're sad?
When you're happy?
When you're texting someone else who you'd call your best friend.
When everything goes wrong, do you wish for me too?
When everything feels too good?
And suddenly I'm crying again.
Even after making myself believe that I have moved on.
“It's okay Por.” I whispered. Palms pressed into my face. Stopping the tears.
“It's okay.”
I changed the song.
‘So you're still thinking of me?
Just like I know you should.’
Oh.
These songs remind one of TeeTee the most.
I've been feeling this for quite some time now, the longing is growing but I keep letting it go unnoticed. It's better that way.
I laughed. A hollow laugh.
How foolish of me to think I have moved on while I can't even delete a playlist which reminds me of him.
“It's okay Por..” I spoke into an empty room.
The sun has come out now. Bright and hot. Not warm anymore.
I regret playing this playlist early in the morning.
Now there's a ghost of him.
And if that's not enough.
I keep waiting for his messages.
Just one notification and I'd know I'll be gone.
Just one door bell.
And I'll be home again.
The one described by Ediht Whiskers.
Home which has us in it.
°
I was sitting in a cafe.
Layers of clothes on me.
There was a warm coffee on my table.
I was completing a university assignment.
The doorbell rings.
And, I forgot how to breathe.
The air carried a scent in it.
My hand stopped writing.
It smelt something else.
I don't know.
And as I looked up, a mistake. A damn stupid mistake.
Because our eyes met.
As we were always searching for each other.
God.
He looked the same.
His puffed cheeks as he gave me a big smile.
So unfair.
I forgot everything.
I didn't even smile back.
He'll think I hate him. Which I never can even if I want to.
“Hi.. P’Por.” Greet him back. Do it.
“Ugh. Hello. Hi. Teetee.”
My heart was pounding like a stupid muscle way too out of control.
“Mind if I sit here?” He pointed out a vacant place across from me.
“Ugh. No, of course not. I mean-yes. You can.” I tried to speak. My throat was dry.
Even after years, Por.
He smiles again. And took the place.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“Fine.” After a beat, “What about you?”
“Good. I'm good.” He said. He looked down at the table.
“Coffee?” He asked.
“Uh. Yeah. I love it.” He smiled, knowingly.
“I thought you didn't like it.”
“No I didn't but now I do.” Because coffee reminds me of you.
I have coffee’s pictures saved in my gallery. Too much that it fills half of the space but I think of you every time I make coffee I think that's why.
The warmth spread in my chest.
Did the wind stop blowing or something?
“You are not on Instagram much?” He'd asked later.
“Nope.” I answered. He nodded.
How did you know?
The conversation flowed effortlessly then.
Bestfriends, Universities, weather, politics, novels, everything and nothing.
We talked for hours. Until the sky hued bright orange shade.
We laughed at how quickly the time went.
“Wanna walk to the bus station?” He asked when we got out. The wind was chilled but it didn't feel as cold as it did.
“Sure.” I said.
Funny how we fell into the same dynamic easily as if we never stopped talking.
I noticed somewhere between that his hands were bare. So I slipped one of my hand gloves in his.
He looked at his hands then back at me.
“Thank you.” He whispered.
“Welcome.”
°
Then my phone rang that night, an unknown number flashing on the screen.
I answered it.
“Hello?”
Someone sighed. “Heyy.”
Tee.
“Where on earth did you get my number from?” I asked him, ignoring the way a smile had grown on my face. I was obviously so red now.
“It was saved.” He replied.
Yeah.
We had each other's numbers.
“So?” A rustling sound came from the speaker. He must be in bed.
“So what?” I asked. Shifting on the bed.
“Nothing.” I chuckled and I heard him exhale, not tiredly but reviled.
“Just.” He stopped. “Missed you.”
And I almost hung up the call out of shyness.
A bitch.
“Shut up.” I said, my voice soft.
“Yeah?” He was smiling, I could sense it in the way he sounded.
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” He said and really shutted up.
“Good.” I said.
Shifting on the bed to adjust the mobile.
Within a minute of silence he spoke again,
“Don't sleep.” He said. I opened my eyes at the sudden sound.
“Hm..” I hummed into the speaker my eyes were barely opening.
“I'm going. I'm so sleepy.” I said later, my eyes shutting down.
He sighed. “Okay. Sleep well.” I smiled.
“Hm. You too.” I said my voice was hoarse and I almost hung up when he said,
“Love you.” And how stupid of my heart to skip like that.
“SHUT UP!” I shouted and oh god, I heard his laugh.
‘You better mean it.’
And I swear I'm gonna strangle him to death once we meet again.
Then it was normal. Yeah. Not awkward.
And I obviously kicked him once we met again.
We talked about how much of a fool we were to stop talking and act like we don't care while we cared the most.
While we missed each other the most.
Then he found out that my apartment was the most comfortable place.
Then he spent the night. Many nights.
His clothes ended up at mine, his toothbrush, his coffee cup.
Everything.
And without even us knowing he had my apartment’s key within his own keys.
My shirts smelled like him.
His perfume was all over me. And that stupid thing made me red all over at least once in a day.
Because his perfume was sticking to me.
Which I imagined some months ago while my room was filled with the song, ‘Home.’
And still it does.
But now I see him humming along with it.
The playlist still plays.
While we cook food and clean the house.
And he randomly slips his fingers around my waist.
Takes my hand and dances with me at 3 am.
Holds my hand when we walk around the city late at night.
Kisses me on the neck. To which I'm not used to yet.
Whenever he gets a chance.
Lips, eyes, nose, ears, neck, whatever. Damn whatever.
And when the song plays,
‘Alabama, Arkansas,
I do love my ma and pa,
not the way that I do love you’
He confesses he loves me.
I tell him too.
That oh god, Tee,
I have never once loved anyone the way I had loved you.