peace ♥ and ice cream

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[1: What We Are]

Friends.

“Hey.” I felt a tap on my shoulder. Instead of turning around, I knew.

It was definitely him.

“Hey.”

A comfortable silence formed between us, so much so that words are voided that very moment.

“Want some ice cream?”

“Sure.” I grinned, “The usual.”

“Triple layered chocolate, vanilla and strawberry with sprinkles, gottcha.”

That’s what we are.

[2: Peace]

We continued walking as my mind recalled the fight we had a little earlier. From all the years I’ve knew her, I never thought she’ll ever be as mad as a couple of hours ago. I still doubt if she’s forgiven me, but…

“Why did you do that?” Her voice was low, with a hint of sadness.

“He wasn’t right for you.” I simply replied.
“How do you know that?”

“I just know.” No one is good enough for you.

Silence.

“Hey, are you still angry?”

“I wonder…” Her voice trailed.

I sighed. She’s definitely mad.

“Just don’t forget my ice cream.”

…she probably did.

[3: Love]

He never knew how much my heart raged when I saw him burst in the restaurant. I wonder if he ever read my expression of confusion and slight happiness as I saw a tinge of both jealousy and anger cross his face. I wonder what he felt when he held my hand and tore me away from another’s arms.

Am I the only one feeling this?

Or, did he also feel it when he kissed me in front of everybody, making a strong bold statement: I love her so get away from her.

This very action crossed every border of being friends and jumping to the possibility of—no, it can’t be.

“Why did you kiss me anyway?” I asked.

He was silent, his face unreadable.

Then suddenly he grabbed my hand once more, causing my very heart to leap.

“Hurry before the ice cream shop closes.” He said as he tugged my arm, and soon we found ourselves running towards the shop ahead of us.

[4: Ice Cream]

“Here” I said, as I handed her ‘usual’ ice cream to her, our hands still intertwined. We slowly walked back, with more silence than ever. Well, that, before she said…

“Thanks,” She grinned.

I looked at her then, noticing the smudge of strawberry ice cream in her lip.

“Hey, there’s ice cream in your face.”

Blushing in embarrassment, she let go of my hand and dug in her handbag for her handkerchief. But before she could even take it out and wipe the smear, I stopped her.

“Let me do it.” I whispered.

“Huh?” She asked as I held both her shoulders and bent down to her height, “Oh no you—“

Then I took my serving of my special ice cream.

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