Have you ever gone through something and despite it passing the feeling remains freshly engraved in your head? And no matter how much you attempt to forget it, forget the thumping song your heart created in that moment such that any attempt to fill your head with lyrics of other tunes is futile? I never could relate to people who had those experiences until that night.

It had been days and more often than I'd like to admit I found my eyes landing on the steps as if staring at them hard enough will cause him to appear out of thin air. And a part of me kept questioning what wound up happening to him. Another part that I dared not venture further into wondered if he had done something terrible to himself.

In order to cope I began convincing myself he had been some manifestation of my imagination. It had been working for some time especially when school began. And once I stepped through the doors of the lecture room I got a break from the mental torment once I grew excited to be in an environment with people equally passionate about the worlds created by the different authors and poets.

Anytime I read a piece particularly with poems that touched on social issues my eyes always moved over each word that soothed the aches and burns I never knew were attached on my body to soak in the truth behind it all.

After the lecture I moved aimlessly with no destination in mind taking in the faces of all the students some were scurrying off to class whilst others lounged around on the lawn. Considering my next lecture would be in two hours I decided to repose a little and found myself moving towards a girl situated on a bench alone.

What drew me towards her was the book nestled comfortably in her hands. Placing my books gently on the table I took a seat smiling at the title, "Romeo and Juliet" by William Shakespeare staring back at me. I remember doing a paper on it back in high school and despite boasting the diverse tastes my tongue has touched I could admit I struggled with Shakespearean language sometimes. If it hadn't been for the summaries I found on the internet I know I would have most probably failed.

"I don't know anyone who reads Shakespeare for fun," I muttered, she jumped slightly placing her book down, it was evident I had caught her off guard. She chuckled lightly, cheeks turning a pink tint before she shuffled in her seat, "I... uh must admit I'm more of an art person. Someone close to me appreciated his work, so I vowed at some point I'd give him a shot." And as I processed her words I couldn't help but notice how her smile wavered slightly as she closed the book. Clearing my throat I shifted forward taking in more of her features.

Her onyx eyes were like endless pools of black, she had an oval shaped face with cute freckles decorating her cheeks in a synchronized pattern that gave her an innocent look. But there was something about her that made me question if I had seen her before. And when I reached out to introduce myself my suspicions were confirmed when she told me her name was Marcie.

"I work at your mom's shop, she told me you'd be coming here. So how are you finding our little community?" I asked stretching out my hands to the expansive land around us with the different buildings. She looked around as if weighing out her answer before she shrugged her shoulders, "Considering its the first day not so bad. My mother mentioned you. Looks like we're going to be working together at the shop," she replied beaming at me. At the time Ms Friedman had agreed to allow me to work on Fridays all the way through to Sundays which I was elated by and knowing that I would be working with Marcie would be another bonus of its own.

In as much as her mother asked me to keep an eye on her, I could only hope that a real friendship will form between us as we began conversing.

***

We exchanged numbers and promised to stay in touch. Part of me couldn't help but wonder what she must have gone through, Ms Friedman chose to remain vague and from what I could tell about her disposition so far was that she seemed sweet. And reminded me of her mother whose features she acquired such as her snub nose.

Like I said before life has a tendency of taking us by surprise and for some people whether the surprise is good or bad, the world will continue to rotate on its axis. And when I saw him standing outside my apartment clad in a black suit I wasn't sure whether to deem it as either a good thing he was here or a bad thing.

As if sensing my presence he glanced my way making the ground shaky, placing more effort on my end to move all in an aim to appear indifferent to the way he was watching me. Unlike the last time his face was clean shaven leaving the only visible sign of hair on his body atop his head that were waves of midnight black cascading over each other. He stood upright, an air of pride and distinction radiating as he briefly addressed the men standing by a vehicle who I hadn't noticed until his eyes briefly disconnected from mine.

I hadn't heard what they said but they nodded their heads and entered the vehicle without protest increasing the curiosity that I had tried to keep chained to ask who this man was. I stopped mid-step to stare at the vehicle quizzically and switched my gaze back to find his lips quirking by the abrupt end to my initial pursuit towards my door. "I promise I don't bite," he claimed, voice still deeper but a lot clearer causing a shiver to move effortlessly down my spine.

"But you might punch or kick," I blurted out without giving it much thought. But I had no regrets about saying what I was thinking. Under the intense rays of the sun he seemed different, less demure until my remark caused the man from that night to make a brief appearance as he shuffled on his feet whilst stuffing his hands into his pockets. Looking away briefly I watched him in silence unsure of where we'd go from here. And yet it seemed he managed to gather himself before he moved towards me stopping far enough not to invade my personal space. "I promise the last thing I want to do is make you regret showing kindness to me," he replied coming across as genuine when he looked me in the eye. I always believed if one had ulterior motives and were being dishonest they'd hardly be able to look you in the eye where the truth laid. "Besides if I wanted to cause you any harm don't you think its more logical I do it at night," he joked unfortunately when he noticed how my resolve hadn't cracked at his attempt towards humour he sobered up rubbing the back of his neck gently. An action which involuntarily drew my eyes towards the tattoo now on full display and I took note of the intricate design of an angel wing that made me ponder briefly on how one can look both rough yet seem quite harmless at the same time.

"To be honest I wanted to say thank you for the other night. You could have called the cops but you didn't, you chose not jump to conclusions."

"It's okay," I waved my hand dismissively to camouflage the warmth swirling inside at his sincerity, "my mother always told me kindness deserves to be given to every passing face we see."

He smiled the light in it blinding me to look away when he pointed out, "She sounds like a smart woman."

"Yeah she is..." I smiled lightly at the mere thought of her, "but she was pretty wasted at the time she said it." He chuckled, lines forming at the corners of his eyes as a deep sound rumbled out of him. "Now that's how you make a joke," I said smiling.

He shook his head smiling gently and just when I thought the conversation would come to an end he said, "Have coffee with me. It's the least I could do after what you did."

Caught off guard by the offer I was at a loss of words and found my tongue tripping over syllables to find the words to develop a coherent response, "T-That's not necessary And besides I'm not expecting anything, that's the whole point behind just being kind to someone. In fact I strongly suggest you show that level of courtesy to someone else."

"But I want to show it to you." Brushing past him, I replied keeping my tone firm as I moved towards my place with determination only to have him keeping up with me all too easily, "I don't want it," I replied. And that was the truth I didn't act that way with any expectations that he'd reciprocate. "Look..." he groaned coming to stand in front of me immediately blocking my path with his large stature granting me the chance to see him bit his bottom lip. Releasing a heavy sigh I crossed my arms in the process of observing him and waited to hear what he had to say. This was turning out to be quite a day, "I've managed to build a life for myself that involves me having control of not only people but my emotions. I have never openly cried in front of anyone in years so know the idea of anyone seeing me as if I'm some broken soul hasn't been sitting well with me. I really could've tried to forget that night but I can't and deep down I feel like I owe you an explanation."

And despite trying to rummage through my brain for an excuse that would end any further interaction, to tell him there was no need to explain himself, I knew I wanted to know. A part of me was curious to the story hidden within those eyes. And yet I attempted to rebuff his offer, "I don't even know your name."

His smile widened before he extended his hand out in search of mine, "Fair enough, I'm Nicholas and what's your name?" It was probably in this space and time where the world fell away, where nothing else seemed to matter and as I placed my hand in his whilst whispers emanated in my head of his name, it's only later on down the line I realize that I had unintentionally accepted some fate that would be revealed in more time as I said, "My name is Aaliyah."

"Ali?" Turning briefly away my eyes connected with those of Donovan's feeling utterly surprised he was here. He usually called before he came over, his gaze switched over to the man who had yet to let go of my hand. And with the warmth radiating into it I had no real problem with it residing against his rough skin. "Hey Donovan," I said, he didn't respond instead his eyes narrowed once they landed on our joined hands and feeling like a deer caught in headlights I pulled my hand out of his grasp at the millions of questions I could see plastered all over my friend's face. Stepping back I cleared my throat gesturing towards Donovan, "This is Donovan, a good friend of mine and Nicholas," I looked back at him, "is..."

I paused unsure of what to say, sensing my uncertainty Nicholas replied coming to my aid, "Leaving. Aaliyah," he muttered catching my attention causing an immediate storm within my frame to the manner in which he said my name. "Enjoy the rest of your day," he concluded giving me one final look before turning on his heel.

Despite the temptation to allow the feeling of disappointment to creep in something told me as I observed the confidence ooze out of his gait that the conversation between us was far from over.