His watch read 6:45.
The day before, she said she'd come by 7:00.
And now, he had only minutes to dress himself, to ready himself, to run by to Gold for last minute pointers that he'd surely need. His face heated up, nervous, as his silver eyes met the gold-red setting sun; the sight gripped at his heart.
Nothing was ready, nothing was set. No food sat on the table, no decent clothes on his back, and right now, he even questioned the amount of sanity that he still held. All of this for one dinner.
He promised himself that he wouldn't mess this up. He promised himself that he'd catch up to her, even though he couldn't fathom as to why he'd want to.
At the same time, he promised Gold, promised to see him every day at the same time, that he wouldn't forget about him, no matter what. He promised it, and he'd yet to have broken it.
Yet, as light knocking on his door reached his ears, his eyes widened, and thoughts of that promise slipped away instantly. In his mindset, he hoped Gold would forgive him, hoped he'd understand.
Besides, one time couldn't hurt.
His gold eyes never left the horizon, never. He sat there, hat in hand, for a solid forty-five minutes, and not once did he even consider leaving before he saw that annoyed, angst-filled teen walking up to him, his metallic-gray eyes hiding back the happiness that this boy had never, yet longed, to see.
Finally, Gold stood up, angrily wiping away a stray tear that slid halfway down his face, before letting it fall. Over the years, he'd slowly grown mature; yet at that moment, that wall of maturity that he slowly built over the years began to chip away, tear by tear.
It wasn't the fact that the silver-eyed boy failed to show up that killed him. The fact that Silver had "forgotten" to come wasn't what made him shiver. It wasn't the fact that he'd broken his first promise, no. In fact, any other normal person would have forgotten the fact that their friend had blown them off for one day, hoping with a heavy heart that they would never do it again.
But obviously, Gold wasn't normal.
What hurt the most was the fact that the first promise Silver broke was a promise to his closest friend; his first friend. All for a dinner.
All for a girl.
She came early. Why is it that girls must come early, especially when, in their mindset, they're "fashionably late"? By now, this nervous wreck had given up on making edible food, ultimately causing him to quickly run by to the nearby town of Mahogany where he speedily picked up something decent. Throwing the small, navy-blue cloth over the only table in the room, anxious silver eyes constantly glanced at the door, where heavy knocking became even heavier. Assuring his persistent guest that he'd be there in a minute, his hands quickly grabbed two glasses and silverware, throwing them, too, on the small wooden, but neatly adjourned table before running to the door. Praying that he left the food in the oven for warmth, the red-head (and now, red-faced) boy turned the knob of the door with a slight shiver.
Instead of that glowing, outgoing smile he'd receive before, he noticed a timid smile on the girl's soft features. Silver could hardly recognize her with her bright red shirt and blue skirt; white knee-highs and red ballet flats completed her ensemble. However, the boy sighed with relief when he took notice of the pigtails that remained glued to her brunette head. Shaking his head ever so slightly, Silver forced a small smile, hoping it wasn't too "creepy", as Gold used to tell him.
"I'm surprised you found this place." Silver's eyes glanced at the girl briefly. Lyra chuckled.
"I ran into an old classmate along the way, and he told me he visited you not to long ago, so I went from there!" Silver could only stand in the doorway, attempting to remember who had visited him in the last few days, weeks, months…
"Oh," he jumped, upon realizing he still blocked the entrance to the house. Moving aside slightly, Lyra timidly made her way inside and placing her small purse on the counter. The boy's mind raced as he slowly closed the door behind her, thinking his night out step by step. Meanwhile, the hyper active girl waltzed around the home, any hints of shyness decimated. The boy's silver eyes tracked her every graceful move as she slowly slipped around every aspect of the room, examining everything she could, and in little time, too. Before he knew it, the pigtailed girl stopped suddenly in front of a small photo frame. Silver flinched; becoming so accustomed to that spot, Silver felt the impending question.
"It was a drunk driver," Lyra stated solemnly, "wasn't it?" The boy remained quiet as she slowly placed the frame of the two gold and silver eyed teens down. The air tightened around the two, now awkwardly standing in their spots. The brunette girl coughed.
"So, I saw the flowers the other day," Lyra started awkwardly, pulling on her pigtail like it was a drug. "You know, the ones by my dad's grave? Calla Lilies are my favorites, you know." Silver chuckled to himself, shrugging with a small ghost of a smile planted on his face.
"No problem."
Wanting to take in what Lyra's eyes looked like now, Silver subtly glanced upwards quickly. Although he told himself that he wouldn't stare, no matter how "captivating" she looked, he couldn't help himself, for at the moment, her face twisted into a peculiar expression, her eyes looking around frantically.
"Is something….burning?" Oh shit, shit, shit… "SHIT!," Silver blurted out subconsciously, regardless of Lyra's somewhat pure ears. Heart pounding, he threw the red hair out of his eyes, examining the now-black lasagna in the oven. His heart dropped; he was hopeless. Grabbing the scorching pan out of the oven, the boy tossed it in the trash, banging his head against the counter as he fell to the ground. Not even an hour had passed, and he felt as tired as ever. His head pounded already, and the clock only read 7:10.
A warmth, a familiar warmth, touched his shoulder, causing him to glance up slowly. The girl smiled down at him, a pitying look on her face. It seemed as though she wanted to burst out into laughter, but Silver assumed that her kindness held her back. The light of the sunset hit her face in such a way that she gave off warmth and light, and the boy with the silver eyes forced himself to look away.
"It's alright," she started, grinning, "I'm sure I can survive off of just salad." Thank God.
The air tensely lingered as the two sat at the small table, Silver hardly eating, merely watching, as the girl, Lyra, devoured every shred of food on her plate. And yet, her face always held a sort of dissatisfaction, a hunger she could never fill. Even as soon as the food was gone, Lyra glanced around, pouting at how rapidly the small amount of food disappeared. Seeing the boy's curious silver eyes, the girl could only chuckle nervously.
Seeing how the boy slowly smirked at her actions, watching how he merely took her plate from in front of her, admiring how every time he passed that one picture frame, he'd acknowledge it with grace, made Lyra hate her coach's words to her a few days earlier. Observing the boy she'd known and never forgotten for three years forced her to throw away Morty's accusations towards Silver; he'd called Silver crazy, and she herself doubted that statement right away.
Looking away quickly when he finally caught her glance, she decided that Morty was wrong.
"So…", Silver trailed off quietly to himself, huffing in annoyance, avoiding her curious gaze, "…what now…?" Lyra 'humph'-ed, looking around the small home anxiously, praying that she'd find something that would interest him, for she need not worry about her own self when everything about the boy, even his home, amazed her already. Upon finding a small piece of a paper pinned up on the wall, she tilted her head and walked over to the spot. Opening it up, she found that the paper in fact was a world map. The brunette girl's eyes lit up.
"Hey! Why didn't I ever tell you where I was going for the surfing tournament?"
Silver deadpanned, his expression as cold as steel. "I never asked…"
"…Oh…BUT I know you were just dying to know, right?" And Silver never answered; he didn't want to tell her that she was right. Pinning the map back up, the girl stood back, observing. The red-haired boy, on the other hand, walked up next to her, leaning against the wall and staring at the map, bored expression, all the while forcing himself not to glance at the ambitious girl before him.
"So," Lyra began, oblivious of Silver, "we're leaving from…hmm, the port in Olivine, and we'll be passing the Whirl and Seafoam Islands…"
He ignored her. He completely ignored everything and anything she spoke that concerned her upcoming fiasco with the sea. He refused to listen and accept the fact that she'd be away for so long. At the moment, she was here. And that's where he wanted her to stay.
This time, the boy grew oblivious to Lyra's lack of speaking, realizing that he'd been staring at her the whole time.
"You could always go next year…", Silver stated, interrupting the girl's train of thought. Lyra scoffed at the boy's offer.
"You know," Silver continued, despite the girl's objection, "to catch up more quickly…"
Lyra hesitated; she wanted this tournament. Besides, she'd been training for months with Morty, and like he always said, there was no turning back now.
"Silver, I've been training! There's no turning ba-." By now, the silver-eyed boy had his hands on either side of the wall besides the girl's head. Only now could he look at the girl straight in the eye, even as she stared with surprise back at his.
"You can always train for next year", he whispered, looking down now. Maybe everything was a mistake… He flinched when the pig-tailed girl before him lifted his head with her hand, her warm fingers, forcing him to look at the those deep chocolate brown eyes that lured him into this trap in the first place. But before he knew it, those eyes brought him back in, head-first, into that same state of familiar paralysis.
He couldn't help himself as he slowly leaned his head forward towards hers, almost wincing as she hesitated. But after a while, she gave up. Her breath tickled, and the boy could only wonder how it still smelled so intoxicatingly good. He could feel her timid hands place themselves on his chest, and he could feel their warmth.
And as quickly as he attempted, got so close, too close, he was pushed away, forced back by those timid hands which now wrapped themselves around their owner, who now held that same expression of longing; of something she could never have.
"I can't, Silver….", she whispered to herself, "..Not now…"
He should have known; of course, he didn't. He didn't even know what he was doing in the first place. And as he slammed a fist against the wall, he could only remember:
She didn't even look up before she left.
Thinking about it now, Lyra pondered; even now, her hopes for the incoming tournament remained strong. Only this time, she realized that maybe, waiting until the following year might now be as bad as she originally thought. Why had she been so determined?
The brunette let down her silky hair, carefully watching the ground as she swiftly walked away from the house of the boy. Over and over again, all she could tell herself was that she still wanted him; seeing his daily loneliness, she came to realize that maybe he needed her, too.
Kilometers away now, she stopped, dead in her tracks. That empty feeling again; but hadn't she just eaten? As her stomach roared, Lyra cringed; when did she become so hungry? Her whole body felt as though something, invisible, pushed her back, not allowing her to pass any farther. Shouldering her small tote, she turned, facing the now-small edifice amidst the trees from which she'd fled, mindlessly.
Ignoring the sudden flash of black and gold from the corner of her eye, Lyra turned around and sprinted back to where she'd run from.
Gold felt a sense of victory as he saw the brunette girl from his forest protection, walking hastily from his friend's home. His gold eyes sparkled with pride at the thought of the boy who had forcibly rejected the high school girl from his past. He knew, after all, that it was all a mere crush.
In the end, he knew that Silver would never leave him alone.
Yet, his eyes focused once more on the tiny, feminine figure, which now stood still, dead in its tracks. Even from this distance, the raven-haired apparition could make out the troubled expression on her face; what in the world was she thinking?
But when she turned around and sprinted, his stomach turned. When he noticed how determined her stride seemed, his eyes grew cloudy. When he realized how dark the sky turned, his head lowered.
Maybe this time, his red-haired friend purposely forgot him; even so, Gold forced himself to turn his back.
Maybe now, even his only trusted companion couldn't be trusted; even so, Gold forced himself to not look back.
Maybe from now on, he'd be second place; maybe soon, he'd have to face his fate on his own.
Even so, Gold forced himself to keep his eyes dry.
As the sun finally hid itself beneath the horizon, the boy's gold eyes grew dark once again as he disappeared within the forest.
He hadn't cleaned anything since she left; he forgot his only friend, and now, he had no one.
But when he heard a swift rapping against his door, his metallic eyes focused once again as he jumped up from his seat.
And when he unlocked the door, all he found was a note; "Find me!" in little cursive, feminine letters. And for once, he knew what he was doing and he ripped off the note and ran into the chilly, foggy night.
For once, he knew what to do when he caught a glimpse of her silhouette hidden in the mist; her figure danced in and out of the rows of gravestones, waltzing a ghostly waltz.
And when he finally caught her, breathing heavily behind a headstone, she threw herself onto him, her arms wrapping around his torso. When he finally caught her, she caught her breath, and although the mist played with his vision, he could feel the slight heat on his lips.
When he caught her, she whispered.
"You found me."