This feeling of us

Her POV

  I dreaded the mornings when my mum insisted that I put my hair up. Whether it was a ponytail, braids, or space buns, the tugging sensation of the elastic band taunted me to scratch my head or pull it off, and I rarely resisted the temptation. My hair was long and often frizzy from the tangles, it got in my face whenever I leaned over my little school desk to read from the textbook. Plenty were the nights I threw a fit as my parents tried to brush it neatly, wishing it would endure my distraught sleep.

  On a sunny Monday morning, my hair was only slightly messy and I carefully tucked the front pieces behind my ears while hastily devouring my breakfast. It was a strange combination, a soft-boiled egg with olive oil and salt, chocolate cereal and milk. But it was never whole unless my dad offered me a few of his cinnamon-dusted apple slices. Mum kissed my cheek before she left for work and dad - ever the gentleman - handed her signature magenta shoulder bag to her and unlocked the front door, holding it open until she walked past him. Sometimes she was smiling or giggling at his antics, other times she was stressed and stumbled over her own feet. Although most mornings she smirked and rolled her eyes before pecking his lips.

  One thing that always remained the same was dad closing the door and pressing his back against it like a ninja, lifting a finger to his lips, signaling me to keep quiet. I slapped my hands over my mouth to silence my laughter. After a while I was in the passenger seat of my dad’s car, blabbering about everything that was on my mind while the radio played the latest hits. Once we arrived outside my school, he handed me my backpack, lunch bag and sent me off with a warm smile.

  As I walked into the classroom my eyes darted around the room in search of Alice, my friend from kindergarten but she wasn’t there yet. I vividly remember pouting for a solid minute before a boy’s voice echoed from across the room.

  “Hey, Lacy!”

  I turned my head slightly to look at him. I had already realized to whom the cheerful voice belonged.

  “Good morning, Miles,” I sent him a toothy smile and looked away, attempting to tame the faint blush that was spreading across my cheeks. He grinned and walked up to me passing by the other students who barely noticed the interaction.

  “I didn’t see you at the playground on Sunday,” I tilted my head in confusion and frowned.

  “We said we’d meet to continue the game from Friday’s PE,” he reminded me about the plans we had as a class and my face fell in realization.

  “I forgot to ask my parents to bring me,” I fumbled with my words. He only laughed at my expression and placed a comforting hand on my arm, squeezing it gently.

  “You didn’t miss much, our team won and we’ll pick today’s game,” he informed me with a proud smirk.

  “Still, I’m sorry I missed it,” a somewhat guilty smile formed on my lips and before I even had the chance to speak again, his eyes suddenly softened and his attention was focused elsewhere.

  “Your hair is really pretty.”

  And I brushed my hair every morning since then. I even demanded -like the ignorant brat I was- that my mum improved her braiding skills.

  Miles always picked me for his team and I did the same whenever we could choose project partners. There was a tugging sensation in my stomach whenever we hung out, different than the tugging of the elastic band that held my hair up and I wasn’t too eager to investigate what it was. However, I intent on spending as much time as I can with him…

His POV

  “Lacy got her acceptance letter today! I’m so excited for her,” my twin sister’s words caused everyone around the table to gasp and cheer, my mum refilling our drinks eagerly to make a toast. All I could hear, however, was “I’m losing my best friend before we have the chance to pursue something more.” And it frustrates me that I could’ve tried but opted not to.

  I blamed the timing, the phrasing, the freaking weather and even resorted to prejudiced precautions and reading into bad signs! Each time she made a subtle move or a flirty remark, I panicked and ruined the moment by saying something random and awkward.

  She let me run my fingers through her hair as she hummed and leaned into my touch with half-closed eyes and a relaxed smile. She asked me to pick her up from her study sessions at libraries and coffee shops. She held my hand in concerts and turned down an admittedly gorgeous hockey player from another school because she claimed he looked at me arrogantly.

  The sound of the glasses clinging together over the plates of steaming food on our dinner table reminded me to raise my glass and join the celebratory atmosphere. Instead, I pulled out my phone on my lap to read her dry humor memes and a series of messy reaction messages. I couldn’t help the genuine smile that tugged on the corners of my lips and ultimately forced my cheeks to crease. I also couldn’t ignore the vibrations that traveled from my stomach to my lungs urging me to gasp the moment I saw her name on my notification screen, disregarding the rest like how she brushed off my compliments. That feeling intensified as she began to type back and sent a jolt of anticipation down my limps making my grip weak. The tingly sensation never faded as I continued texting her.

  My family only teased me when they realized to whom I was texting but I simply rolled my eyes in annoyance, denying the feeling that swarmed inside me like a cloud at dusk whirled away by the wind. After all these years I still couldn’t pinpoint exactly what that feeling was, remaining ignorant of what I yearned for.

  There was a small detail that caused a thunder in my chest which flooded my mind. She had my number in her contacts under a series of emojis that varied. Each time I made her feel something different or we created a memorable experience, she added the appropriate icon. “What’s next?” I wondered every time and I haven’t stopped asking this question…

Her POV

  “Miles!” I hugged him tightly as he leaned against his car which I had only seen pictures of. My breath hitched and my heartbeat quietened as if waiting for his next move. His arms wrapped around me and, suddenly, I was dizzy, drunk on the euphoria of his presence so close to me. My brain felt like a rain of shooting stars and my body molded perfectly against his. I missed him and hadn’t realized.

  “I missed you too,” he murmured, his usual snarky pet names absent. Finally, I tilted my head and looked up at him, his recently grown beard fervently grazed my forehead but the urge to scratch the spot faded as soon as our gazes connected. In my lightheaded state, I could feel the strings connecting us snapping in place.

  “So…lunch?” I shook my head in a futile attempt to break our intense stare. Thankfully, he retracted a little bit, just enough so I was able to support myself without leaning on him.

  It had been about 3 years that we had spent mostly apart. We texted often, he had a habit of leaving lengthy voice recordings in our chat which I usually listened to while eating. I felt comforted listening to his voice while devouring my food or snacks. He calmed me, eased the pace of reality and I found myself chewing my bites and savoring the taste of my meal.

  Sure enough, both of us met different people, dated and had fun separately. We rarely discussed that part of our lives and whenever it came up it served only as a topic in our family gatherings that we mostly avoided. It was easier to ignore the feeling I got around him when we were apart since we were going through the daily motions, adjusting to the new demands of our routines and working towards achieving our goals. Although, his company encouraged my ambition and brightened my mood. It was nearly impossible to push the feeling down when we met during breaks or lazy weekends. I had to remind myself that confronting this feeling we shared would be selfish and complicate a friendship that I would risk losing only when we were both ready to pursue something more, and that is not when we are miles apart and about to begin new work experiences.

  “Pff, like you wouldn’t treat yourself to dessert before the meal,” he scoffed playfully and dipped the curve of his nose in my hair. I will never let go of this feeling…

His POV

  Lavender became my favorite scent after she settled on her signature fragrance. I recalled the time when she fell into my arms and, fortunately, my car behind us steadied us. She remained the most spectacular woman I had ever laid my eyes on and grew to care for like a precious existence, vital for my well-being.

  “All good in this room too,” the mover called out, I quickly tipped and thanked him before texting Lacy to come over. I ordered some takeout from one of her favorite diners and began to move the main furniture pieces around the rooms, trying out some different angles before settling on the ones that worked best for each space.

  Soon she arrived in comfortable clothes, messy hair and a bag filled with snacks and tiny liquor bottles. By now I was used to the flutter of my heart which gradually reached my lower back and stepped aside so she could enter my apartment. Lacy got a hybrid job and mine was mostly home-based. It made sense I’d move closer to her since I was already moving out of my parents’ home.

  Weeks passed and I found her in my apartment more often than I had expected in the beginning. One day we cooked breakfast together and worked from our laptops in the same room, taking minute-long breaks to chat, joke or simply relax as I walked over to my bed where she laid in to wrap my arms around her waist and trail soft kisses over her shoulder. The sound of her breathy giggles and annoyed huffs was enough to relieve my headache and ignite the feeling that was still buzzing underneath the surface of my skin and nested deep in my bones.

  I lost myself in moments like these but the reminder of why I wouldn’t take it further yet was still fresh in my mind. She told me she could never picture her mum growing old or becoming a grandma and a few months ago it became impossible for her mum to fulfill that role. The sorrow and grief were always present in her eyes, my goal was to create moments when the dull pain was replaced to an extent by happiness and laughter. Some days were successful, others she needed space, although most times she only craved silent company.

  She needed a friend more than a boyfriend and it was not the right time for me to be both. I preferred staying in her life, comforting her and spending hours together as friends rather than adding to her already emotionally burdened heart. It was an unspoken agreement between us and I was thankful we didn’t have to verbally communicate and openly discuss our situation. I am here for everything she needs and I am grateful she is aware of it…

Her POV

  For years, we had cared deeply for each other, supported one another both at our jobs and at home and held onto that yearning, aching, tugging, burning sensation that coursed through our bodies at such rapid speed it engulfed us completely.

  “Here’s your coffee, babe”, Miles pecked my lips and the warmth of his touch sent a welcoming shiver down my spine. He placed a warm mug of coffee on my desk but I was utterly distracted from my work and my gaze meticulously followed his movements. “How’s work going?” he chuckled and I observed the flustered expression on his face before lifting my head up to kiss him.

  It felt surreal to be this close to him after holding back for so long. However, I understood why. I was proud of our patience and courage to put our needs and priorities first because we achieved something truly rare. We built a relationship with so many varying emotions that belong to us now.

  He was my best friend in primary school, my crush in high school, my repressed desire in college and my supportive companion as an adult. Through and through, one thing I am certain of; he has always been my soulmate, and what I am experiencing now is the feeling of us.