Self Known

[ click here to read the whole story  ] Our eyes lock again, and my heart flutters rapidly in my chest. I feel like we're reading each other, like we're both searching. I think I've found what I was looking for. I look down at my notebook, quickly flipping it open and scribbling down some words. Some words for him. I feel the heat of his gaze but I keep writing, glancing up to look at the clock. I have to go in a few minutes. When I look up he's still there, wearily staring at me. I smile, ripping the page out of my notebook and holding it our for him. "That's my new address, with my number on it." I stand up when he takes the paper, picking up my things while I talk. "I hope you'll use it." He studies the paper, a smiling breaking across his face. "I will." "Good." I walk over to the nearby trash bin, dumping out my food then turning back toward him. But he's gone. Gone. But not forgotten. Is that ho...

[  click here to read part one  ] I look up him, his beautiful dark brown eyes meeting mine. I'm at a loss for words. Even the pen that weighed heavily behind my ear has become light, all of its own words forgotten. A blush rushes across our cheeks, and we simultaneously look down at our food. My forgotten notebook slips from under my arm and spills onto the floor, breaking the moment. We both reach for it, but I stop when I see the page it fell open on. New beginnings, old friends, I didn't want to leave you, but I did. He kneels down, retrieving the notebook. I watch his eyes scan the words for a brief second, before he snaps the it shut. "Sorry, um..." He holds it out for me to take. And I do. "Those are some beautiful words, by the way." "Thank you..." I run my fingers across the worn cover of the book, trying to find the right words to tell him how those words came to be. He nods and stands up to sit back down in his...

I pick up my tray of food, glancing around. I'm new and old. I've been but that's gone. I adjust my notebook under my arm, feeling the light weight of the pen that rests behind me ear. It gets heavier by the second, being weighted down with new feelings and thoughts, phrases and words. I scan the room, breathless, thinking about the words my pen could posses when someone taps my shoulder, and my head whips to the side. He gives me a small, crooked grin. I remember you , I think. "Want to sit with me?" Before the word 'no' can roll off my tongue he counters, "It doesn't look like there's any other place to sit, anyway." I look around. All chairs filled, no empty space. I'll have to write that down when he isn't looking. I sigh inwardly, giving in to him. "Sure, I'll sit with you." He leads me to the table in the corner, where the small table for two snugly fits. His pulls his stuff off of it, settin...