a/n: hello it's been awhile. it's been forever actually. this is only a quick drabble i made today, at this very moment, just now and is.... really nothing much. when i say nothing much i mean NOTHING MUCH. came up with a short story in my head because of this awesome fic i really love idk when it updated but i just read it last night. And to clear things up : i still am love jeti THAT much so dont worry. but i'm not sure for going back to write again lol. this will be an update, a short drabble that will not go any far to a chaptered sotry because hell knows i'm bad at chaptered fic. and thank you so much to all of you who still here, still subscribing my fic, i couldnt be more gratefull than that. this is very short, enjoy it as much as i enjoy writing it. (and as always,do foregive every errors).

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Memories are just like shadow – or ghosts – it appeared in an unexpected time, in an unexpected moment. Like when you’re in a packed subway, awkwardly standing in the middle of strangers who smells like wet pavement. It came to you, rushing on your mind like water poured to your body, soaked you before it went away like the wind blew out your hair. The door opened and there are some other people pushed their self inside; they squeezed you like you weren’t there. You close your eyes as you remembered how she hated the crowd. She would pressed her body to you, so close you can always rested your forehead on her temple or her shoulder, lets her hide her face on your neck as she closed her eyes. Her fingers would easily found your hand and squeezed it so hard even in the middle of all this messed – even when you can’t moved your hand anywhere, she can always made it to find yours. Her hair smelled so nice, strawberry, sometimes a nice smell of herbal you always loved, and she always applied the perfume you gave her because she knew how you loved the smell of it, it was so her; so expensive and elegant. It matched her face, it always did.

You wouldn’t let go of her hand when both of you were outside the subway and she didn’t wanted you to. Her hand always found your arm and she wouldn’t let it go even when she had to pick up her phone, or when she had to look for something inside her bag. Her hand belonged there, on your arms and you would always hold hers back in your arm, you didn’t want to let go too.  You would be the one who held the umbrella when it was raining. Pulled her closer to you, circled your arm around her shoulder and angled the umbrella sideway so the rain wouldn’t get to touched her. She would say with her sweet feminine voice, “Hold it properly. The rain will soak you wet.” Your answer would always be the pecked on her temple, it didn’t shut her up, but it did make her face turned to apple-red. And it’s enough to make your whole body feels warm.

Now you’re standing in front of the coffee shop, her usual favorite coffee shop. She would order two same coffees for the both of you. You happened to like the coffee she would always order when she came here. They had the best coffee ever and none of the both of you could deny it. So, she would be the one ordered it and handed it to you, your fingers brushed against each other and you wanted to felt the smoothness of her skin again. She would smile that sweet smile and leaned on the glass window when she listened to you, she was never a talker. And she never is even now when you looked at the coffee shop watching her propped her chin on her palm with her elbow on her knee, listening to that young man’s talking. You will love that smile forever and you will recognized that smile everywhere when she was happy.

Memories are just like ghosts, it haunted you, it scare you. You don’t exactly remembered how she smells like but you knew it was a pleasant one. Or the smoothness of her skin, the feel of her fingers on your skin, her face under your palm, her hair in between your fingers, her lips on your or when her body pressed onto yours, her breath, her heartbeat, how she laugh, her smile, her calm but sharp eyes when she looked at you intently, herself, her everything. It scared you to death at how she could make you do things you didn’t and never wanted to. She opened you like she opened an unlocked door. Read you like reading a magazine as if there were not any secrets at all you kept on yourself. You hated how she could do so many things to you but you can’t even ask her to stay. 

You’re mad, to yourself, not the young man she is talking too. That look she gave to the man, you could be the only one who received it. Her smiles could only for you, her attention too. You’re angry because you’re not the one who made her feel like the way she is right now, that you’re not the one who sat in front of her and drink coffee with her. You’re not there, you’re not that man, and she is happy but not with you. You turned away when your eyes started to feel hot, your vision started to blur. You walked away, away from her, away from the memories of her. You didn’t turn back around to look at her for the last time. 

“Hey, is everything alright? You’ve been looking outside for awhile now.”

“I thought I see… someone…”

“Jessica.”

“I’m fine. So, when is your wedding?”

“Right! So…..”

Jessica doesn’t really pay attention when her friend talks, she can’t make herself not to drowned to the memories she tried to buried couple years ago.

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