The small box unloaded and scattered, despite everything was already packed. A series of Polaroid from a love story spread before her, making her smile bitterly and rowed back to the river of nostalgia. They were very much in love, he was a local kid from Ventura, with a dream so solid in his hand while she was stopping by – being a stranger to the city. They met coincidentally, through a mistaken Starbucks order and kept bumping into each other in the outskirts of town.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
He said to her after a second time the same Starbucks barista mixed up their orders again.
“I need to really order something else other than Caramel Macchiato.” She smiled shyly.
“Or we should probably order the same drink.” He replied.
“Or I could just order a hot drink.” She started to take a sip from her cold latte. He smiled down at her. His round eyes traveled all over her beautiful rosy cheeks.
“Or, we could exchange numbers.”

Kimberly chuckled lightly while staring at the picture of them in the car together. It was taken a week after they started dating. He was her other half, they shared almost everything in common. They were practically kids living in adult bodies, having fun in every way they can. He introduced her to his circle of friends and to his dream. She adored his passion in music, although they both didn’t share the same taste in it.

He was actively being a hardcore drummer of a local indie band at the time. The first time he invited her to his gig, she was astounded – almost deaf by the sound his loud giving, the screaming, the heartbeat rising bass line and the sweaty crowd pits. She hated everything at first, but once she saw his eyes were searching for her while he was up on the stage, everything else just didn’t matter.

Her phone rang – This Means War by Avenged Sevenfold blared through it. She smiled everytime she heard that song. Her insides felt proud and touched at the same time.

“Hello?”
“Hello, Kim? You’re done packing yet?”
Kimberly scanned around her room. Everything was either in a box or stuffed up in bubble wraps.
“I guess.”
“Great. Get your lazy arse here. We need to celebrate!”
“Celebrate what? I’m leaving.”
“Celebrate your freedom, of course! Stop being a twit and stop crying over some pictures. Come down here, you bloke!”
She laughed softly. How did he know she was mulling herself over these photographs?
“I’ll be there in 10.”
“Awesome.”

She hung up and gathered all the scrambling Polaroids, putting them back into the small black box on her lap. She will be back home by tomorrow. She will see him again, after two long years of missing and dreaming about him. After everything that happened, where she had to leave and take up a job opportunity here.

One concern though, will he still feel the same?

Notes

A/N: new story guys!! give me some feedbacks!! XD