Growing up without him
regulus POV
09:31 Tuesday 25th February
It was on a Tuesday when I saw him again.
Loud conversations surround me as I hunch forward in my seat, head bowing over the novel I'd futally been trying to immerse myself in for the last 15 minutes. Deafening screeches accompanied by sudden jolts intensify my pounding headache and I sigh as I resign myself to the fact that I'll never be able to finish my book before I get to work so I lean back and snap my book shut, closing my eyes and letting the temporary darkness ease the hammering on my skull.
I stay like this for a while, swaying with the motions of the train, bumping shoulders with the people on either side of me, blind to the intermittently flashing ceiling lights and the bright clothes of the passengers until i feel the train gradually slow and I hear a loud even voice announce the station. As I listen to the woman's even voice I feel an abrupt tug in my gut, an instinct compelling me to open my eyes and look up. I attempt to ignore it ,too desperate to protect the fragile calm I have created in my head but it continues to persist, clawing at my insides begging me to just look. So I do. I scan the compartment searching for the cause of my unease and when I am unable to find anything I glance out the shabby, clouded window onto the platform.
The platform where he stood.
Seeing him was like a fluid lifting from my lungs, I was able to breathe again. I hadn't known I wasn't until I saw him and I could breathe easily. It was like my body no longer responded to my mind. My body remaining firmly sat in the seat while my mind screamed
Yes
Finally
Where have you been
Oh how I've missed you
Unable to move I stare greedily at his face trying to commit it to memory. The only comprehensible thought bouncing round my mind was “oh how you've grown up without me”
The man who stood before me was a ghost of his 18 year old self; his body thinner, paler, his face sharper, more defined, a shadow of stubble on his chin showing the distinct markings of manhood. He stares back at me, slightly wide eyed but otherwise seemingly unshaken. His hands sitting firmly in the pockets of his black puffer coat as he leans against the wall of the platform head resting just above the red curve of the underground logo, making no attempt to move.
I watch as he closes his eyes and begins to tap his foot slightly, bobbing along to the music that was surely blasting through the headphones placed atop his dark curls.
How could he be so unfazed?
The first time he's seen me since he left without a word of warning and went silent making me fear the worst and this man just closes his eyes and goes back to his music. Anger floods me overriding the relief I felt only moments ago causing my body to once again gain control of my extremities allowing me to shakily stand still feeling somewhat too big for my skin and stride over to the carriage doors just in time for them to slide shut in my face.
My heartbeat thunders and my control lapses and before I am fully aware of what I'm doing I feel my fist connect with the cool metal of the door and I hear my own voice, shrill and sharp shouting his name repeatedly. The commotion I'm causing must create a scene on the platform ashe suddenly opens his eyes brow furrowed before looking directly at me and seeing me for the first time. His jaw drops slightly and his warm brown eyes focus on me, wide and uncertain as he steps off the wall and towards me.
Simultaneously we frantically begin to push the doors open button but our attempts are in vain as the train lurches to the side and begins to move, taking me away from him once again. I press my palm up against the window and watch his mouth form the shape of my name as the train moves into the tunnel and he is ripped from my line of sight.
* * *
The train is plunged into darkness and I feel as if I have been snapped back into my own body. I am suddenly aware of tears on my cheeks that I didn't feel fall and of the ringing silence filling the carriage interrupted periodically by my shuddering breaths. Eyes burn into my back and I am overly conscious of the fact I just had a meltdown in public. Shame seeps down my spine and a furious blush burns at my cheeks so I press my forehead to rest against the cool window panel, unable to turn and face my audience.
I know that i have just under a minute until the train pulls into the next station to collect my thoughts and calm down enough to make a decision on whether to continue on to work and risk missing what could likely be my only chance to reconnect with James or whether to get off at the next station and get a train back to baker street where I had just seen my missing childhood best friend for the first time in four years but at the risk of losing my job.
The choice seems simple so as soon as the doors open I throw myself onto the platform and run full pelt towards the southbound platform wishing on everything that I have that there will be a train waiting that could take me back to him.
* * *
To my despair there was no train waiting and the board read that there wouldn't be another train for seven minutes.
Time seems to stretch in palpable waves as I endure the longest seven minutes that have ever occurred. As soon as the tracks start to vibrate with the movement of the incoming train I bound towards the yellow line desperately willing the train to approach quickly so I can be back with him sooner.
The doors slide open as the train draws to a halt in front of me and I clamber into the compartment taking a seat next to an old gentleman who fiddles mindlessly with the bouquet of tulips placed on his lap. My heartbeat thrums in my ears as the train begins to move again. I feel the anticipation building inside me, will it be a joyful reunion? I wonder if he will run to me and gather me up in his arms like he used to do, did he think about me as much as i thought about him over these past few years?
These thoughts build momentum as the train draws to a stop at baker street station. I am up and standing before the doors even open, I find myself running faster than I would've thought I could run, limbs burning with the sheer effort of my movements. In that moment I am untouched by the sound of life around me, my vision tunneled; I notice the shapes of people around me but I do not register them, they don't matter. I move single-mindedly trying to get to him. But when I find myself on the platform, I find myself alone.
“He's not here” I mutter to myself. “He isn't here?”
James didn't wait.
I feel the sound return to me, undulating in tangible waves, staticky and thick as the breath is punched out of me and the fluid fills my lungs once again.