There is one crystal clear moment when he wants to tell her. One defining second in which he wants to overcome his fear, reluctance, and worry about what could happen and just tell her how he feels. In one breath, he's wants to confess his love.
What brings upon this reckless and courageous inkling is when she introduces a new friend of hers to him.
Now, this friend of hers doesn't really make an impression on him. She has many friends, males and females, humans and the not-so-human variety, and just because her new friend is an unfamiliar guy, it doesn't mean anything.
But when she refers to her friend by his first name, it means everything.
Yes. That's all it takes for him to lose his inhibitions because when he hears her call this stranger with so much familiarity, he's absolutely devastated.
And it's not that he's hurt about the fact that they've known each other for three years and they still use their surnames. He is, but what really gets to him is that in one second, he sees it. He sees his one-shot at happiness, at love, slip through his hands–hands that are patiently opened in the hopes that she'll place her own in his but knowing that she never will–because his heart decided a long time ago that if it's not her, it won't be anyone. She's it for him.
But he smothers the impulse, and he tries to fix his features. Giving death glares to her friend will only upset her, so he pretends to be nice, and he returns the handshake the guy gives him.
He sits down without asking if he can join them. Never mind the class he has to get to. It's only by chance that he decided to stop by and get coffee before his class started otherwise he wouldn't have seen them at all.
Maybe that was her intention.
He shakes his head as he pretends to listen to how they met. Well, he does listen. He hears every word because she is the one saying them, and each one of them stabs at his heart because she looks so happy. And shit, for the first time, it's painful to see her smile.
When the guy starts talking, he zones out. It's petty, but he can't help it. He's jealous, and all he wants is to make this guy disappear. He wants for her to look only at him and no one else.
But that's not right. He shouldn't be having these thoughts. He's made up his mind to never pursue her, but for the life of him, he can't think of any of the reasons why. Why can't he reach for her hand? Why can't he pull her close? Why can't he kiss her? Why? What's holding him back?
She begins laughing as she tells the guy about how she knows him, leaving out the most important parts, the parts that define their complicated yet simple relationship. She recounts some normal high school stories, inciting laughs from her new friend. He adds some more descriptions when she doesn't get the stories quite right, and she pouts at the add-ins that poke fun at her, and she whines his name that he's heard for years, and he can't help but to smile, and…
And he knows. He knows what holds him back: their friendship.
But just because he knows not to interfere with whatever relationship she has with this man, he can't leave her alone with him. He can't bear the thought of what will happen if he leaves first, so he waits the other guy out.
Finally, the new enemy excuses himself. He doesn't give her a hug or anything like that, and the guy better be counting his luck that he didn't because if he did…
Once he's gone, it's quiet at the table. He's trying to find the right words to say without coming across jealous, but he's not having any luck. He has no choice but to keep his mouth shut.
She breaks the silence by asking what he thought of her new friend, and although this should rub him this wrong way, it doesn't. Because he's confused. She just used the wrong name; she used his surname and not his first name.
He asks her if she got the name right, and she explains that her friend wants to be referred to by a nickname. She goes on to say that she doesn't feel that comfortable doing it because they aren't that close, but she respects his wishes, so she calls him what he prefers.
And while he listens to her explanations, his shoulders slump in relief, and he takes in a gulp of air because he can finally breathe. And he shouldn't be feeling this way. He shouldn't be so damn grateful that it's not him, whatever his name is, that she likes, that she'll end up with. Because at the end of the day, it's not him, either.