The story that started; and ended, even before, intermission.

There's nothing i can do t get close t you; neither lingual nor textual works- as i've tried- which i want t, for the very two words- 'regret' and 'waste', and thus for now, till otherwise, i take on the stint of the paige boy- the silent role. (Until, and only until, you realise.)

The Little Runner Girl

He caught her by the hand as she passed the corridor; it was almost three weeks since they last spoke.

"What do you want?" She snapped.

She had earlier told him that he was mistaken when he professed that he liked her.

"Just a word, with you." He replied, calmly.

----

"What'd you reckon about your life so far?"

He broke the silence that had ensued ever since they had arrived at the cafe.

"Nothing", She said quickly.

"Nothing?" He asked.

She paused for a moment.

"Well, looking back, I have this to regret, that too often when I loved, I did not say so."

"I love you."

"What?"

She was astounded.

"I love you."

The remaining moments creeped along with silence.

It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; it is less difficult to know that it has begun.
And that, he knew.

"I thought i told you it was impossible, you're just a friend!" She cried.

"And i am a friend; i seek no reciprocation, no understanding, no action."

"So what then, do you want?"

"I just wanted you t know; and that i'm here -as i've said- always, if you ever needed me, only t be there for you-"

He paused, " -which i couldn't do, if you kept avoiding me."

"I'm not avoiding-"

"You kept me at a distance."

She became silent.