Catching an Eye
She reminded him of a time or a place or maybe even one of those stories his mother used to read, but he just couldn't seem to place what it was. He did know that it was wonderful or beautiful or any of the adjectives that would pale in comparison to her.
He loved to remember that one time the traveled all the way to the east coast. Her Pacific eyes twinkled at the sight of snow, which was falling when the walked out of the airport. The white crystals stuck in her golden hair, and he brushed it out gently with his fingers. She smiled her smile, and the apples of her cheeks were pink from the cold, matching the tip of her nose. It was only November, but even their heaviest jackets weren't warm enough. She didn't seem to care.
When she used to read, he'd stare intently at her. He used to do it all the time, all those years back in high school, when they were studying at those dark wooden tables at the library. His staring didn't do anything, since her picture was already in his mind. Whenever he'd close his eyes, he'd see her, and whenever he slept, he'd dream of her. Sometimes, he stares so long at so hard at her, he'd forget what he was doing. He looks back on it sometimes and wonders why she couldn't feel his eyes on her, devouring her every feature. He looked back on that as a mistake, since he has now memorized everything about her. He could recite her like one could the alphabet.
She liked to attend orchestra concerts. The strings and the horns and the winds all used to mingle together in her ears, and ease tears down her cheeks. He used to hear he holding her breath, for how long he didn't know, because he'd hear he exhale sharply at the end of each song. She also liked those coffee house open house nights. She thought those guys up there playing the guitar were more sincere than anyone she'd ever listened to. She liked to think they wrote it right before they got up on that stage. She'd sip her coffee slowly, while staring and listening, as if memorizing the sound, and he'd stare at her.
The both used to stay up all night to see one shooting star, to make one wish. The only thing she wouldn't tell him was what she wished for. Everything else, she'd tell him in complete detail, no matter what he asked, she'd tell, except for those wishes. He ached to know, he wanted to know. He'd look in the sky for a shooting star to, and tell her. They'd both make a wish, but his never came true.
He once asked if her wishes came true. She'd told him that she always had wished for the same thing, and so far, it looked like it was going to come true.
Times would pass, and the best of friends grew apart. He looks back on those days fondly. He smiles at the memories, and frowns at the years that have been so empty without her. He thinks about looking for her, but he only thinks, and never does.
He came to realize a little something when wishing upon a shooting star tonight.
She didn't remind him of anything at all. Everything reminded him of her.
He knew he shouldn't be in love with a memory, but then again, he had always known he'd forever be in love with his childhood best friend.
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In case you didn't catch on, it was Lilly/Oliver. This was my first Loliver, and first HM. Be nice!