Prompt: Things you said when we first met
They say at the end, you think about the beginning.
The first time I saw you, it was eight thirty four on a Friday night and you were sitting at the bar, hair pulled up, wearing a dark blue t-shirt. You downed a bourbon and stood up to leave and I watched, secretly, watched you walk away as I went to sit down and order the usual.
The first time I met you was four days later because I was at the bar first, maybe waiting for you to show up and maybe just to be there. Anyway, you sat down four seats away and I was on my fourth beer, some shitty American brand, and after four minutes I moved seats and offered to buy you a drink. You smiled and I died a little bit because Christ, you took my breath away. (You still do, you know? I can't look at you anymore because it kills me a bit.)
You told me your name after that first drink, after we'd just spent an hour talking about the football game and how neither of us really understood football and about where I was from and where you were from and good movies to watch on rainy Saturday's. (You said the Godfather and I said Star Wars and maybe that was the beginning right there).
"Bobbi Morse," you said and laughed that effortless way you do.
"Morse like the code," I said next because I was an idiot, still am, and I thought for a moment that you were gonna walk out, but you just said, "you know it?" As if knowing Morse Code was some sort of requirement to be in your godly presence.
I tapped out my name on the wooden counter top, just my last name because I hated my first name back then (I hated my first name until the first time you said it, three weeks later, and it finally sounded the way it was always supposed to).
"Hunter," you said and there was that smile, there was the look in your eyes I fell in love with.
I walked you outside four hours later and hailed you a cab because you weren't living nearby, said goodnight and that it was nice to meet you and that I hoped to see you again sometime. (The next time I saw you was a Friday, and the bartender whispered you'd been in every night and I hoped, somewhere subconscious and silent, that you'd been waiting for me. Seven months later I learned that it was because you were on the job: you had nothing better to do except find me again without seeming overly desperate, too forthright. You had work to do and you needed me to do it, and I'm still not sure how I felt about being a pawn.)
Back inside Franny's, I sipped one last beer and had a friendly conversation with Riley as he wiped down glasses and I tapped your name out on the cotton of my shirt sleeve, over and over so my skin would remember every letter.
I'm thinking about the beginning, standing in the center of the living room and watching you tear around the apartment, packing a bag and shouting about something that doesn't even matter and I can't shout back anymore, I can't be angry or upset because I see your empty eyes and just feel numb. You're leaving again and I'm thinking about our beginning; maybe this is our end.