✨ "When Distance Became a Step Closer"
1184 Words
Episode 2 – The First Time I Saw Him
The morning sun forced its way through the thin curtains, throwing warm gold across my face. It was almost brutal, the way it forced my eyes open when all I desired was to remain enfolded in the stillness afterglow of last night's talk.
I had slept little. Not because I was agitated, but because I did not want the evening to be over. His voice still lingered in my mind — deep in some places, remarkably tender in others, like a tune you hum yourself well after the music is silent.
I convinced myself it was nothing. Nothing but a late-night phone call. Nothing but a casual greeting. Nothing but words.
But whenever I recalled the sound of his laughter when I was teasing him, or the hesitation with which he said goodbye — as if he were going to say something but didn't — I could feel that wicked, unaccustomed flutter again.
I filled my cup with coffee and gazed at the steam rising above it as if it might write out some sort of solution. That's when my phone vibrated on the counter.
Him: "Are you free today?"
I looked at the screen a bit too long. It was just a basic question, something anyone could have asked. But from him, it weighed more — like an open door.
I let my thumb float over the keyboard. I wrote "Yes", then backspaced. Wrote "Why?" and deleted that as well. I ended up with:
"I think so. Why?"
The response was near-instant.
Him: "Meet. Coffee? Or walk."
I was conscious of my pulse pounding in my throat. We hadn't met. Everything I had done so far had been virtual — messages, calls, words without faces. Meeting implied a crossing of the bridge that I wasn't certain I was prepared to traverse.
But my fingers betrayed me.
"Okay. When?"
Him: "This afternoon. 4 pm. There is a park close to the old library. I'll wait for you at the gate.
I read it through twice, and a third time, as if the words would re-arrange themselves into something different. But they didn't. At 4 pm this afternoon, I was to meet him.
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The Hours Before
Time has a peculiar way of passing when you wait for something. The morning crept on, each minute turning itself into an hour. I had attempted reading a book, but every paragraph melted into him.
What if he resembled nothing that I had imagined.
What if he did resemble what I had imagined exactly.
What if I preferred him in person, or worst of all… what if I didn't?
By midday, my nervousness had completely overwhelmed me. I was standing in front of my closet, looking at my clothes as though they were going to suddenly whisper to me, Wear me, I'm perfect. I did not want to look too eager, but I wanted to look good. Effortless, yet not sloppy.
In the end, I chose a soft cream sweater and dark wash jeans — comfortable, but flattering. I wore light makeup. Enough to conceal the late-night darkness under my eyes, but not enough that I appeared to have made an effort for him.
By 3:30, I was pacing in my living room. I hated being early for things, but the thought of being late and making him wait was somehow worse. At 3:40, I grabbed my bag and left.
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The Gate
The park’s entrance was framed by tall iron gates, their black paint chipped and worn by years of weather. I spotted him almost immediately.
He was slouched against the gatepost, his hands stuffed into his pockets, his head c****d to one side as if he were deep in thought. The sun had caught in his hair, making it a lighter color than I had imagined.
I simply. stood there. Observing.
This was him. The guy whose voice had woken me up. The guy who made me smile at my phone like a moron.
As if he felt me, he turned. I locked eyes with him. And in an instant, the atmosphere changed.
"Hi," I forced myself to say, moving toward him.
His smile was precisely what I both dreaded and hoped it would be — warm, slightly awkward, and totally dearming.
"Hi," he replied, his voice somehow richer in person.
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The Walk
We began with small talk. The weather. The park. How strange it was to see each other after all the calls. But there was a familiarity in the manner in which he kept pace with me, in the manner in which his shoulder sometimes touched mine.
The path wound around a tiny lake where ducks sat aimlessly on its surface. Children giggled in the distance. Someone was playing a guitar somewhere.
"It's odd," he said after some time.
"What is?"
"Seeing you. I've thought about this so many times, but it's… different. Better."
I turned away, feigning interest in the ducks. My face was hot, and not from the sun. "You're just saying that."
"I'm not," he said, so matter-of-fact that I couldn't help but trust him.
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Coffee and Confessions
We broke at a small café just beyond the park. It was that kind of place with mismatched chairs and the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans in the air.
Over steaming mugs, the discussions became more profound. He spoke of his job, his friends, the music he enjoyed. I spoke to him little fragments of my own history — cautiously, but enough to make him grin.
He leaned forward at one point, putting his elbows on the table. "Can I say something without you thinking I'm crazy?"
"Probably not," I joked. "But go for it."
"I was actually considering not inviting you to meet today," he admitted. "I was worried it might… change things."
"And you don't want things to change?"
He hesitated for a moment. "I do. I just didn't want to lose… whatever this is."
I rocked my coffee back and forth slowly, the heaviness of his words hanging between us. "Perhaps change is not always terrible," I spoke up at last.
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The Parting
When we exited the café, the sun was low on the horizon, staining the sky in orange and pink hues. We strolled back to the gate in a easy silence, the type that doesn't require to be filled.
When we got to the place where we initially met, he hesitated. "So… was it what you expected?"
I grinned. "More."
His gaze softened, and I thought for an instant that he would take my hand. But he didn't. He took a step back, creating distance — which in some twisted way made me desire him more.
"Same time next week?" he asked.
I nodded, my heart already saying yes before I did. "Yes."
As I turned my back, I didn't glance back. Not that I didn't want to, but because I know if I do, I won't be able to conceal the grin on my face.
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End of Episode 2
To be continued…
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- Writer
