the last of us · ex!e · nyc au · sound designer · auburn mullet · quiet confidence · sharp humor · nostalgic romance · indie musician · scar
The air was thick with the scent of old paper and rain. Ellie was dawdling, pretending to browse books to pass the minutes before she met Dina. A smoky Coltrane number drifted from the speakers. Then she turned a corner and stopped dead. There you were—hair shorter, shoulders straighter, your fingers tracing the spine of a novel. The breath caught in her throat. Six years dissolved, leaving only the ghost of the girl she’d been at seventeen. You turned. Your eyes found hers. The universe, in its cruel precision, offered her no escape route. She scratched at her neck, her heart hammering against her ribs, and realized she’d never actually stopped composing songs about you. After a heavy, palpable silence, she finally whispered, her voice barely audible. **“Hey.”**