“Well… I could definitely get some help,” I uttered, probably in the shyest way possible after declining for his help a couple of minutes ago to get some popcorn. Shocker, he wasn’t really lying when he said that two popcorn buckets were too much for the both of us because it was really big and I couldn’t carry it along with the tray of colas!
Enrique chuckled and walked towards me as he gets the bucket and the tray from my hand, and whoops, clumsy little me almost dropped the popcorn.
“Careful,” he uttered, quick enough to hold me by the arm so I wouldn’t tip-off. He sure laughed afterwards when I was finally composed. “You should probably be nicknamed clumsy.”
I rolled my eyes, “We all have our clumsy days!” I protested.
“Just tell me your legs are going Jell-O when I’m around,” he joked, wiggling his eyebrows as we walk towards our cinema. Apparently, we
If anyone were to ask how it felt around Drey, I’d always say butterflies. Like a rumbling feeling in your stomach that you’d feed on over and over again just because it feels nice to feel that way whenever you see someone.Or that ecstatic feeling of weird heartburn, or probably just a heart attack waiting to occur.It was all that.And I was also at the point where even when I was avoiding him, just feeling his presence made my heart jump and butterflies start to flutter inside me—as if trying to find validation just so I could feel it over and over again.But it was different with Drey. He’s tranquility… the one you won’t even be afraid of confiding to because you feel safe whenever you’re around them. It’s a different kind of safety that I only feel whenever I’m with him.I never felt like I had to prove myself to him because it feels like he just always gets me… even with the slight
I don’t have an inkling on how I’d risk it.It was awkward (for me) when I got to finally weigh the options in front of me, and recognize what I’ve been trying to avoid. It wasn’t a spur of the moment, it wasn’t even a random decision that I had to face—I knew it since then, I just never really wanted to acknowledge it.But when you face yet another decision to make, it becomes a slap—a harsh slap of reality that you suddenly have to really choose and decide which is which.As for me…I’m still indecisive as ever.I took a deep breath in and hugged my knees as I stare at the papers I’ve been arranging ever since I woke up—I had a lot to accomplish, and I only had two weeks before I move to Cambridge. I haven’t written my resignation letter, but Enrique was kind enough to let me use the remaining weeks to finish the papers I needed.I was excited to the extent that I cou
“How’s Spain?” I was smiling ear to ear as I talk to Enrique through the phone—I couldn’t even believe how everything escalated so quickly, and I was dumb enough to send the email of my confession just when he entered the airport and not when he finally boarded. I could even imagine it already—he’d probably bombard me with calls, but I was asleep after the long drive so I’d probably see his calls the next day, almost forgetting what I sent.Yet maybe, I really wanted him to see the mail before he leaves for Spain—I wanted to see him again before I couldn’t since I was leaving for Cambridge, too.People say dating someone you’re away from just makes it hard—that was probably the main reason I couldn’t tell and decide, I knew I would just leave Brampton even if I don’t pass as a researcher in Cambridge. I’d run wherever I could just so I could finally escape… and yet as I gre
It was fair enough that I didn’t stay at my dorm and decided to work at the café to pass time. The requirements I had to finish didn’t really take a lot of time to process since they were just paper works that I had to comply with. Flying to Cambridge was the easy part that I even booked a ticket beforehand so I wouldn’t think of not leaving.I still had an ounce of dignity left in me, and I didn’t want to be defined as that person who didn’t leave for Cambridge just because of a person.I mean… I suddenly find light to stay in Brampton. I could care less about their opinions of me, but even if I chose to stay, it wouldn’t just be me who’d suffer the consequences. A lot of people knew I’d go to Cambridge (thanks to my university), and if they hear the news that I was staying—it’d just stir news that Enrique stopped me.I didn’t want that.And I didn’t want to stay pitifu
I couldn’t forget the long pause that enveloped us when I told Enrique that I missed him too. It wasn’t awkward… it was more of silence after letting the thought of what the other person said to you sink in mind—and then Enrique, showing another side of him, suddenly started giggling and asking if I was real.That moment—he felt like the real deal.I don’t know if has something to do with trust issues of some sort, or he just probably feels like the idea was too far-fetched since he kept on asking if he wasn’t dreaming since it felt surreal. If any, I should’ve been that person—I really shrug off the thought that Enrique was a corporate heir, and he’s a café owner who juggles with his master’s and external businesses for their company.The idea was… insane.I mean, why me? I know there are many pretty girls in his world, and it feels like I have so much more to life than just
A week passed by in a hurdle, and I was dreading the D-day already, and Enrique became busier that he couldn’t call most of the time. As much as I wanted to call him first, I didn’t want to bother him at work.I miss him, but we still have our own lives. I understand how busy he is, and even when it feels lonely without his presence, I still had to understand his line of work. I didn’t want to become a nuisance, but I want to become his cheerleader.Enrique has been nothing but supportive of what I’ve always wanted to achieve in life.It’s probably my turn now to return that favor.I mean… it’s probably not a requirement—now that we just became honest with our feelings without confirming what our status would become. I told Enrique I wanted us to take it slowly but surely, yet in a way that we don’t have to hide about us from other people—they’ll know that there’s something but that&
Counting the days off the calendar has probably become a habit of mine every day I wake up. I have never done this my entire life, even when I was almost graduating because it felt like it was unnecessary, or maybe because I was pretty much busy with complying with my requirements that I couldn’t really track the days anymore—and when I woke up, it was graduation day already.The anticipation for this one was different—I didn’t have a lot to do and I had too much time on my plate, so I was well aware of the days that pass by. But then, even if I knew what was bound to happen, it still felt surreal that I had to remind myself every day that it’s true, and I was not dreaming.Honestly, I knew I was scared—it felt scared thinking that I might wake up one day only to realize that it’s all just a dream and the calendar marks disappeared because, apparently, I have been daydreaming—and I’m still living paycheck after payc
“If you stare at me like that, I’ll melt.” I laughed and took a sip from my strawberry milkshake and looked at him—he said that he just came from the plane, but why does he still look… good? I knew I looked bad when we got off the plane from Paris. It wasn’t because the air wasn’t good, because it was. It was just probably the natural occurrence of stress in my face.I could probably be the patron saint of stress.Enrique paused swirling on his pasta and looked at me, “Do you want to say something?”“Why are you still looking good?” I asked, almost out of it, only to realize that I said it out loud making Enrique giggle.“You know your words, huh,” he said and took a meatball from his pasta with a fork before taking a bite. “Did you miss me that much?”I frowned, “You were so busy…”Enrique smiled and leaned a little, “Because