He had a moment where he didn't think, he just did. He didn't over analyse everything, he didn't think of the outcome and the several opportunities that could go wrong. He acted upon impulse. For the first time in his life he felt spontaneous.
He didn't think about a jacket, he just ran out of the door, not caring to lock it. He ran down the stairs and hailed a taxi. He got one immediately and headed across the bridge. Whilst in the taxi he didn't think what he was going to say, he didn't think what he was going to do. He didn't think about the possible hurt, he didn't think about the possible happiness. He just didn't think.
He got outside the building, her building, and went up in the lift to the penthouse, her penthouse. In the time it took to get all the way up there he didn't think about an escape route, he didn't think of an explanation. He just didn't think.
He entered the foyer, her foyer, where there were hydrangeas in their usual spot. There were magazines scattered across the coffee table, one opened at a page with a coffee cup next to it. He was too late. Because he didn't think.
He went down the lift and he his brain was in overdrive. How could I be so stupid? Of course she won't be here at 11.30. She reads her magazines over breakfast and coffee and then goes out to run errands. Today is... Wednesday. Oh she'll be in her Art History class. How could I be so stupid?
He stormed out of the building, he walked around the block to his favourite coffee place, their favourite coffee place. He ordered an espresso. He felt tired, he felt worn out. This is what she does to him.
He decided to take a stroll around Central Park. He sat on a bench and watched the ducks. He thought furthermore about how stupid he had been. But what made him feel even more stupid was that he was letting his imagination run wild. He thought of what could've happened, should've happened. He sat there, in the same spot, for hours until a tiny drop fell out of the sky. He looked up at the sky and the once sunny day had turned grey. Ah, just like my hope, he thought. Soon enough that tiny drop was accompanied by several others, gaining in size and quantity within minutes. His jeans seemed to shrink, his top going see through and his hair flattened to his head. Great.
He decided to find shelter, under a tree perhaps. It was a big oak tree, the size of the trunk was about three or four times his body width. Perfect he thought. He sat there, under the vast oak tree, and thought about everything that had happened in his life that had led to this moment.
He wished he had a book on him to pass the time, he wished he had a jacket as he was not shivering. He wished he was back at the loft and not here. He sighed loudly and started tapping on his jeans to make a beat. He sang a song to himself. Someone joined him. She had a sweet voice with an edge. He liked it. He liked the way their voices complimented each others. He was about to stand up to find out who this voice belonged to when she had already found him.
"Humphrey?"
"Waldorf?"
His heart raced, his palms grew sweaty and he had a feeling inside of him that made him feel funny. He smiled his goofy smile at her. Her hair was also damp but not as wet as his. Her sun dress was also slightly see through but not as clear as his top. She sat next to him, book in hand. They sat there, talking about the movie they watched a few nights ago over the phone. "What? Oh you're such a boy Humphrey", "Waldorf, you're such a girl it's untrue". They planned trips together. "Did you hear about the exhibit at the MET next Tuesday?", they planned to watch films "the cinema around the corner from me are doing a foreign language night, fancy it?". They discussed her Art history class and his English literature. They offered insight and advice for their courses, they offered witty remarks and digs at each other. They talked for a while and then they realised the rain was no longer heavy. She asked if he wanted coffee. He accepted. They both stood up to go to their favourite coffee place when the rain poured again. The shock in her face made him laugh loudly. The pair of them stood on the streets on Manhattan, getting absolutely drenched and laughing, looking the happiest any of them have looked in a long time.
He looked at her. It was in this moment he acted upon instinct. He didn't think, he didn't wonder. He didn't ask himself questions, he didn't over analyse the situation they were in. He simply looked at her laughing like a child, looking beautiful. He looked at her in adoration. She noticed his gaze.
"What?"
"Nothing"
He just looked at her. He knew she could feel it too. He knew she felt what he was feeling. So he acted upon impulse as well as logic.
He kissed her like he never kissed her before. The first time he was nervous, she was nervous. They didn't want these feelings, they didn't even want to be friends. The second time she was more confident and he was calm. It felt right but at the same time it didn't. He wished the circumstances would've been different. This time, he was the confident one. He took her by surprise and he could feel her stiffen. But the tension faded quickly and she relaxed. She felt his fingers through her hair, she felt his hands on her waist. He felt her hands on his arms, he felt the smile playing on her lips. They both felt their bodies touching, they both felt happy. They both felt their connection, their real connection, grow stronger. Becoming invincible.
