Ingin kuberi kau sebuah buku. Tanda aku berani mencintaimu. Kau mungkin bakal terbata-bata mengingat aku yang tak pernah ingin berbagi untuk itu, apalagi sampai memberi. Tapi kalau bukunya sampai di tanganmu, jangan langsung kau ajak selfie apalagi dibubuhi caption terima kasih. Itu karena cintaku tak secepat paketan datang. Juga tak semudah menulis terima kasih. Cintaku butuh waktu seumur hidup. Mencintaimu harus berani kan? Berani buat pengakuan pada teman-teman, setelah berani mengutarakan parasaan. Mencintaimu berarti mempercayaimu kan? Entah kau sedang bosan atau capai tidur seharian. Aku harus percaya perasaanmu tetap sama.
Dan jika benar kau teriak kegirangan karna buku itu. Tolong jangan berlebihan nanti malah surat di dalamnya jatuh. Menyedihkan sekali kau sampai tak lagi ditemukan. Suratnya biasa saja. Berisi catatan waktu-waktu aku merasa degup jantung lebih kerasan, waktu-waktu memandangmu dari kejahuan, waktu-waktu aku engap menahan nafas ketika kita satu obrolan.
Satu lagi…. tolong rahasiakan suratnya. Bukunya jangan kau pinjamkan pada siapa pun jua.
-Flashback- The day of the draft you and Jonny are sitting in his hotel room on a beige couch with your legs crossed facing each other, bathing in the morning sun coming in through the window next to you. The two of you have been sitting there for so long you lost track of time talking and laugh as usual. You turn your head to admire the view of the city before turning back to him. “Jonny.” His eyes wander from the window to yours. “You’re gonna be in the NHL, can you believe that?” He smiles at you, chuckling, “I’m having a hard time processing it.” “You know what the best part about it is?” He says softly. “What?” “You’ve been with me every step of the way, and that’ll never change. Jamie, I’m so happy to have you in my life.” -End of flashback-
I sit on the floor of my friend Lydia’s apartment watching her straighten her long curly hair in front of a mirror. “How long has it been since you two talked?” She asked obviously curious about Jonny. “About seven years.” Her eyebrows shoot up. “Holy crap, you think he still remembers you?” “I don’t know,” I pause for a few seconds to think,”I don’t think so.” “I don’t understand. if you two were so close why did you stop talking?” I huff out a breath, “After he made it to the NHL, I don’t know… He changed.” “How so?” She asks, eager to hear why what seemed to be my soulmate and I were no longer fond of each other. “Honestly, he turned into an asshole.” I’m interrupted by a giggle escaping Lydia’s lips, ”Go on,” she presses. “He acted like he was too good for me, like he was a king. I couldn’t stand it anymore, and I didn’t want to just leave him, but he was making my life unbearable, so one night I went to him. I told him that I’m not going to put up with it, and from there on I just stopped talking to him. And the constant fighting stopped…Finally.” I stop talking, my heart drops in my chest and I feel tears begin to blur my vision. “Oh, honey,” Lydia pulls me into her arms. She wipes my tears away with the sleeves of her sweater. “C’mon, let’s doll you up and make him wish you two were still friends.”
We finally make it to our seats. I realize where we are sitting and whip my head to face Lydia. “We’re right against the glass.” She gives me a weird look, “Yeah, nice observation.” “No, that’s not— What if he sees me… and actually remembers me?” I panic, my palms become sweaty from nervousness. Lydia rolls her eyes at me, “It’s not like he’s going to kill you if he sees you. Worst that could happen is he jumps through the glass just to talk to you.” Warmups begin, as the players run out of the tunnel I fiddle my fingers with the fabric of my Artemi Panarin jersey. A million thoughts bombard my mind at the same time. I shake my head, calming myself. ‘There is literally nothing to be afraid of.’ I think to myself. I’m snapped out of my thoughts when Lydia hands me a bag of skittles she sneaked in the arena in her purse. I give her the “are you serious” look. “What?! I’m not paying $16 for a bag of freakin’ skittles!” I laugh and shake my head at her, paying no attention to what’s going on in front of me. I struggle to open the bag for a while until I give up and hand it to Lydia. “Thanks, superman.” “Shut the hell up and eat your skittles.” “I thought you were going to wear your jersey.” “It’s in my purse.” She pulls out a jersey with very familiar colors. “Seriously!?” She pulls on the blue Tarasenko jersey in what looks like a sea of red. “If someone throws a cup of beer at you remind me to thank them.” She rolls her eyes at me. I look up at the players in front of us. My eyes scan the giants until I meet a pair of brown eyes staring at me in surprise. I freeze, my breathing comes to a halt as I realize who I’m looking at. “Jonathan,” I whisper. He slightly nods; the look of shock covering his normally serious face. I sit uncomfortable in the arena chairs throughout warmups. I could feel his eyes on me. He’d constantly look my way. I turn to Lydia hoping she had seen the recent encounter. “Jamie, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” she looks at me worried. “I saw him and he saw me!” I panic. “Really?!” Her eyes go wide. “How did he react!? Do you think he remembers you?!” “He defiantly remembers me! We stared at each other for like a minute!” “It’s fine, calm down. It’s not like something bad is going to happen. Just relax and enjoy the game.” I take a deep breath and try to forget about it.
*** I’d almost forgotten about the “staring match” earlier until I felt his eyes burn into my skin once again. For most of the game, he would glance at me from time to time. Each time he’d look away when our eyes met. The game is a few minutes from ending and for the last 25 minutes, the Hawks and Blues have been tied 2-2. Jonny stands at the blue line heading to the Blues’ net as Panarin passes him the puck between the legs of the opposing team’s defenseman. Jonny, a few feet from the net, fires the puck at lightning speed. The puck hits the back of the net and the arena becomes deafening loud. The fans around me jump up screaming at the top of their lungs. The first line comes together to congratulate each other. Once the players pull apart Jonny’s eyes meet mine for a few seconds as they head towards the bench. I sit on the edge of my seat. There’re two minutes left and the Blues’ offense is firing shot after shot at Crawford. “Excuse me, ladies?” I snap my head towards the direction the deep voice came from to see arena security towering over me. “Can the two of you come with us?” The color drains from my face, and I look at Lydia in panic, “Did we do something wrong?” The tall man chuckles at my fear. “No, one of the players requested that you be taken to the locker room area.” I know exactly who and why. Lydia and I agree and follow the tall man up the arena steps and through a series of halls and doors. Once we reach the end of a hallway we hear the buzzer go off signifying the end of the game. We see a sign that says locker room and we stop just outside of the door. “Wait out here.” The security guard says before disappearing down the hallway. “I can’t believe we missed the end of the game,” Lydia says, obviously irritated. I roll my eyes at her, biting my lip knowing exactly what is going to happen. Lydia and I talk until we hear the door open. She notices, but I continue unaware. “Lydia what are you lookin-“ I turn to see Jonny standing in front of me in his suit, his tie messily done like he had gotten dressed in a hurry. “Jonny,” I whisper nervously. “Jamie,” He nods. He turns to Lydia and holds the locker room door open asking her to excuse us. Before she enters he puts an arm out in front of her. “Might wanna lose the jersey,” He says quietly. She realizes her choice of jersey and yanks it off her body throwing it on the floor near the door. He quickly yells something to his teammates then closes the door turning to me. He looks at me in bewilderment unable to believe it’s actually me. My heart pounds ridiculously fast, my stomach turning from nervousness. He walks towards me and takes me into his arms, resting his head on mine. I inhale deeply. The scent of his voluptuous cologne leaving me slightly lightheaded. “God, I missed you so much,” He confesses. A few seconds pass and he pulls away from me and places my chin in between his thumb and index finger. “Why did you leave?” He asks in a heartbreaking tone “Jonathan,” I say softly. He looks at me with sad eyes. “Why did you stop talking to me? You disappeared.” He says to me, wistfully. “Jonny, I had to.” My voice only getting softer. “What do you mean,” His voice shakes. “I just couldn’t be near you, Jonathan.” His eyebrows furrow; upset with what I said. “All we would do was fight.” “You didn’t have to leave!” He begins raising his voice. “You didn’t care about me, you treated me like I was nothing. The only reason I stuck around for as long as I did was because I thought everything would eventually go back to how it used to be!” A silence falls over us for a few seconds. “Why do you care anyway?” I look him in the eyes and see a glint of sorrow overcome them. He tilts his head slightly and his lips curve into a sad smile. His voice soft, “The day you left, I felt something I’d never felt before… It was this tightness in my chest that made me sick to my stomach, this coldness in my heart that kept me from being able to breathe. When I realized you weren’t coming back, it became a normal thing for me. Sitting awake at three in the morning with this hole in my chest, thinking about you.” He places his right hand on my cheek and wipes away the tear running down my face with his thumb. “Jamie, I loved you, and I still do, even after all these years, I still think about you everyday, I still can’t sleep… I still feel empty.” He caresses my cheek with his fingertips before coming closer. A shiver runs through my body as he places his warm lips on mine. His kiss feels like a release, my body gravitates towards his, closing any gap between us. Soft and slow; wanting to remember our lips meeting for the first time. He presses me against the cold, hard, concrete wall, and kisses me harder. My heart races. His hands hold onto me, making sure I won’t get away ever again. His thumb caresses my cheek as he pulls away from me, breaking the kiss and presses his forehead against mine. “I missed you so much. I promise I won’t ever treat you the way I did.” He grabs me by the waist and rests his head in the crook of my neck after giving me small, sweet kisses below my jaw. “I love you… I want you to love me back, please.” My heart flutters at his words. “I do.” “Hmm?” His head shoots up. “I do love you, Johnny. More than you know.”
As someone who likes Lexa, did the last scene with her and Clarke come off as a little OOC to you? I thought it did but I can't tell if that's just because I don't particularly like Lexa or if it was actually weird. (I just really don't think its in character for Lexa to bow to anyone?)
Okay, so…that is a really hard question for me to answer. First off, I do like Lexa and I do ship CL. It’s going to influence my view of that scene; frankly, I’m of the belief that shippers are almost always going to be biased when it comes to scenes with their couple. I’m biased on BC scenes too! Just part of shipping, in my personal experience.
So, that was basically a disclaimer: I’m biased, but I do also try to make sure I think critically about it, to the best of my ability. So: on Lexa’s side I don’t think the decision felt OOC, but the scene and Clarke’s reaction did not sit too well with me. For several reasons, if you don’t mind me talking about that a bit…
have you been watching agent carter this season you haven't really blogged about it all and i was just wondering
I haven’t been watching, no.
In all honesty, I lost a lot of faith in the show over the hiatus. I’m very torn about not watching it because it’s one of Marvel’s first mainstream female-led projects, and I love Hayley Atwell. I want to show my support for those things, and I’ll probably try to watch it through legal means later on.
First of all, they ditched Lyndsy Fonseca, and my Cartinelli heart just broke because it was pretty clear the writers didn’t value their relationship as much as the audience did. I haven’t been watching, so I can’t say this with certainty, but they apparently haven’t mentioned Angie once this season.
Second, for all that Hayley apparently poked at the writers about representation, we get one recurring black character in the second season. In the first season, I was able to somewhat swallow the lack of racial diversity, thinking that Marvel was trying to do it’s usual thing: establish a fanbase using white faves. But now it’s clearer than ever that Marvel is just not making the necessary attempts to diversify their casts.
I can’t tell you how much I want to like this show. But everything in it and surrounding it right now just sounds like an echo chamber of white feminism, and I just can’t be a part of that.
Saint Archer Coffee Brown (Picked up at Trader Joe’s). A 3 of 4. Wonderful coffee presence in this - Smells of cold-brew coffee and a lot of fruity qualities along with the expected roast and chocolate notes. Drinks very similar to the nose with some chocolate sweetness and some dark fruit, and has some firm bitterness in the finish. Relatively light-bodied and simple overall, but some nice coffee presence in this.