17 Flashback 4 (2/2)

”I'm Noah” he said, his voice almost rhythmical, before slowly extending his hand again.

I stared down at his hands, the feel of the rough but gentle touch that had grasped me earlier replaying in my head, before staring back up at him and being once again, captivated by his eyes.

I made no move to take his hand.

”Shay,” I said quietly, almost to myself in fact, and turned back to stare out at the water, but he seemed to have heard it because he nodded and awkwardly withdrew his hand.

He placed his hands in the pockets of his pants and swayed gauchely, probably thinking of something to say that would make the current situation less uncomfortable for both of us; to my surprise, I beat him to it.

”Thank you,” I said, letting out a breath as I looked at him, then almost as quickly, turned my gaze towards the river once again. I took in another deep breath and removed my hands from my jacket, before slowly crossing them over my chest.

”For saving me” I finished and turned back to look at him once again.

He stopped swaying and his mouth turned up into a smile, his hands seeming to dig deeper into his pockets.

”You're welcome,” he said, shyly removing one hand to run it through his curls; then stopped to scratch the back of his neck.

”Just try not to get yourself run over.”

I nodded, not sure what to say to that, and stared back out over the water.

I felt him walk around me and without another word, he strolled off.

Surprised that he had left so abruptly, I turned to watch his retreating form disappear down the street and around the corner.

Slowly, I let a smile curve my lips as I dragged my gaze back towards the water, the smile disappearing almost immediately; because as I stared below at the running water, all the colors that had seemed to beautify it were gone.

At that moment, it seemed black, empty, and full of darkness.

”First as a tragedy,” I whispered to myself, the darkness below seeming to reach out to me as if asking me to plunge myself into it.

I shifted my gaze from the water to the sky, as the clouds turned dark and the night began to emerge.

”Second as a farce” I finished, staring back at the river beneath me with narrowed eyes as spiteful memories flooded through me, before the words I had heard from my father countless times played on my lips

”The repetition of history.”