The Train to Somewhere

The Train to Somewhere by Johnathon Nicolaou

He’d loved her for years, and that was his greatest curse. Every moment spent with her was both incredible and torturous. Even now, as they sat in comfortable silence, awaiting the departure of their train, his heart was unable to control itself. He stole small glances when she wasn’t looking, eye contact was too much for him to bear. He couldn’t let her know how he felt, their friendship had transcended beyond the point of no return, an attempt to profess his true feelings would murder what they’d spent years building. It was an unbearable burden that he buried deep. 

He glanced over in a moment of weakness, she was smirking down at the video on her phone. He smiled. The way her lips curled gently at the corner of her mouth was the most adorable thing in the world. But that was nothing compared to her laugh. Her laugh was both intoxicatingly beautiful and elegant. He could listen to it for hours on end, never growing sick of it, yearning for more. He wished he could tell her how he felt. The hope that she might reciprocate was enough to send a surge of courage through his body, but the fear of what it might mean of she didn’t, held him back. He was doomed to stealing those small moments where their fingers brushed against each other mid walk, or the long embraces they shared upon parting ways.

She shifted lightly, inching ever so closely towards him, crossing one leg over the other, forcing her hip to brush his. He tensed his body, attempting to stop the chill that was washing through him. He needed to control himself. Reaching up she brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He loved it when she did that. It revealed the gorgeous face that she claimed was her worst feature. Something he profusely disagreed with.

In a moment of weakness he felt his arm leave his lap. He watched in horror as it moved, seemingly with a mind of it own. It was as if her leg was calling to his palm. He allowed it to continue so he might steal a small moment with her. He reached for her knee, not wanting to make her uncomfortable with his hand sitting any higher. It was as if he were in a trance. Then reality set in. All his internal alarm bells rang through his body. His brain screamed for him to abort before it was too late. Before she saw.. He withdrew his hand, returning it to the safety of his own lap. She glanced up. He froze. Had she seen? Embarrassed that she might notice his cheeks turning bright red, and disappointed that he’d yet again given in to fear, he looked away.

She shuffled beside him. That was it, she’d seen, he’d made her uncomfortable and was shifting away, he knew it. He wanted to turn, to apologise, but he was stopped dead in his tracks. His breaths shortened and his heart raced, something incredible was happening. She shifted towards him. Her side tucked gently into his, and her head arched down slowly, resting lightly on his shoulder. His heart was racing. He turned his head slowly towards her, unsure if this was really happening. She was smiling, but this time not at her phone. He smiled back. 

Maybe there was a chance for them to be more than friends after all…

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