She handed me my coffee and sat down sideways facing me on the park bench, leaning on its back where my left arm comfortably rested over. I look at her, then to the vast open and smile, savoring the refreshing feeling of her company.
Spending time with her feels like being on vacation.
She leaned forward and asked me what I was thinking and I tell her, not slowly, not carefully, not anything. I just think out loud, not bothering to choose my words. She didn't mind the occasional R-rated slips in my language. I stopped to take a breath and she puts her two cents in. We argued, no, we debated. It didn't matter if we didn't exactly have points to prove or conclusions to draw. It didn't matter that we were just wasting time.
Talking to her feels like reading a suspense novel. I never know what's coming up (or out of her mouth) next.
We walked around, sipping coffee and talking about the most random things. She makes a joke and I laugh.
Did I mention how spending time with her feels like being on vacation?
We eventually give up conversation and just wander around the park. I look at her and can't help but feel different.
--
She pokes fun at me when I feel messed-up that sometimes I just want to get up and leave. But I can't. Because even though I hate to admit it (which I never will, not in front of her at least) her tactless comments never fail to cheer me up.
Her trying to cheer me up is like jumping into the cold, freezing lake. It's really bad at first, but really… not-so-bad once you get used to it.
We're not usually serious, save for that one time we talked about heartbreak. I don't remember how that came up, it just did. It's probably wrong to say (or think) it, but it was fun, how she recounted going out with crappy jerks that made her feel insignificant, then hearing her out-there schemes to get back at them.
Serious conversations with her feel like breaks from being prince charming.
--
I was brought back to reality by a vibrating phone in my pocket- a text message. I read it and pocket my phone.
I stopped walking and she turned back to look at me; I look at her.
Looking into her eyes felt like being in some faraway place, you never know what you're gonna see, or what's gonna happen.
I walk up to her and tell her I have to get going. She didn't ask questions, she understood. With a 'bye' and a joking wink, she walked away.
Suddenly, spending time with her felt like some guilty pleasure. Like sneaking off during free periods and skyaking to the other end of the world to watch the sunrise there.
--
I walked a couple of blocks from the park, up the all-too-familiar front porch and ring the doorbell. Mrs. Teslow answers it and smiles, making way for me to enter. I smiled back and walked up the stairs and into Keely's already open room. She smiled at me and gave me a peck on the lips, like she always does.
Saturdays nights with Keely come around clockwork, once a week, every week until curfew.
I laid down on her bed as she recounted the day she had with Tia. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on her words, but to no avail. I zoned out.
Talking to her felt like reading a book… for the nth time.
--
When I'm upset, I try to cover it up (so I won't worry her) but that never works, she knows me all to well. She talks me through it every time.
Her cheering me up is like eating good old mac and cheese. Every time.
She always turns to me when something's bothering her. It's great, helping her through tough spots, whispering words of encouragement (or sweet nothings) into her ear when she needs it.
Being with her feels like being Prince Charming. Helping her feels like sweeping the beautiful damsel in distress off her feet and taking her away.
--
She laid her head on my chest and sighed (good thing I know her well enough to nod appropriately and ask 'why?' when she tells me about her day). I breathed in deeply. She asked me what I was thinking.
I ran my hand through her hair and thought about what I was thinking. What do I tell her?
She sat up, pulling me up with her. I looked into her eyes and it struck me.
Looking into her eyes felt like home. And that was all I needed.
Being with Keely wasn't, no, isn't, boring. It isn't routine. It's natural. It's the way things are supposed to be, meant to be. I don't have to be Prince Charming with her, I'm not. I'm just her best friend, just like she is mine.
Vacations are fun, but tiring. They wear you out. You get over the excitement after a while. It's easy to forget vacations, that's why you need pictures.
Nothing is as comforting as staying at home with your favorite book and a bowl of mac and cheese. It's not as exciting, but it's better. You don't need pictures, you don't forget. You're always there, it's the one of the biggest, if not biggest part of your life.
And who said you can't have an exciting time at home?
I told her I was thinking about her, and how she felt like home. She looked at me, confused. I pulled her into a kiss. When we broke apart, she looked at me and understood.
We settled down on the bed again.
"So Phil," she asked, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on my shirt "how was your day with Monique?"
"It was exciting," I told her. "But nothing beats being with you," I added as an answer to her raised eyebrow.
I just needed a quick oneshot to clear my head since it's about three-thirty in the morning and I can't sleep. It's probably not that good but what would you expect me to coume up with in thirty-or-so minutes? lol. Anyway, I hope you liked it. Review, please. Reviewers get cookies:D
-SurreaLpink
Disclaimer: I do not own Phil of The Future. No copyright infringement is intended. Duh