Once You Were My Friend

Beginning of April

Sitting on the sand were Nami and Sebastian as they watched the waves topple against each other. After a week of rain, it was abnormally warm that day. She had dipped her toe in the sea when they arrived but the water was too cold to do anything else. He did chase her for a bit as their laughter was engulfed by the sound of the waves and then they sat down by the grassy part of the beach. Despite the sky being wiped of its blue, the warmth of the sun still seeped through their clothes.

They had been sitting here for some time now, listening to the sounds of the coast while other people lay on their towels, soaking in the sun behind the clouds and a few distant figures bravely surfed through the folds of the biting ocean. The wind carried grains of sand over their knees, down their legs and between each crease of their clothes. Nami would often have to tuck loose strands of hair behind her ear and Sebastian would thumb at his eye from the sand that'd stick to his eyelids.

He was back to visiting on the weekends again, since that phone call. It was a Sunday that day. He was wearing that shearling jacket he always wears in spring. Things weren't as flexible as they used to be or they weren't able to spend the whole day together like they used to. She had a shift at the bookstore later on in the day. Sometimes plans fell through and they wouldn't see each other, despite wanting to. A lot can change within a year. And a lot can change in a few days. Nami and Sebastian lived in a different pace, incomparable with how the world moved.

He looked at a granule of sand caught between the tresses of her hair and pinched it down the length of her strands. She kept her gaze on his concentrated blue eyes as he did this, her lips parting for a moment, involuntarily swallowing nothing at her throat. He smiled with grief and pulled his hand away, taking a moment to look at the sand between his fingers then rubbed the top of his jeans. She peeled her eyes back to the sea and momentarily closed her eyes to steady her breaths.

"Nami," he said and cleared his throat, rubbing the side of his hair and smoothed it back in place.

She opened her eyes then and continued looking ahead of her.

On that Friday, a few days ago, they had gone dancing in Williamsburg, just the two of them. She caught the train to his house before they went out. She had been the one to suggest this idea. It only caught him by surprise, adding a baffled, "I haven't danced since the wedding. What are we celebrating?"

There wasn't a specific occasion, only she wanted to dance with him. It was fun. It was as if she was seeking a cheap thrill. He'd just follow whatever she wanted to do. They bought each other drinks and danced together. But it wasn't the entire night. Some women were quite advancing and forward in their approach towards him, but he turned them down. Nami didn't know why he did this even if men did the same towards her and she rejected them politely.

After the dancing, they ate shawarmas to fill their stomachs before heading back to his place. At his house, she let herself fall onto his leathered couch and then kicked off her heels. He sat on the floor opposite her, drinking a glass of water.

Nami was thinking about that night as they sat together. They had kissed a couple of times. Sebastian was overcome with pleasure, his mouth trailed along her collarbones and between her breasts. He kissed her so messily, drunk by the touch of her skin and her advancements. But it didn't lead to anything else, diffusing the tension with awkward laughter, even blaming the alcohol although it wasn't all that either. She went home the next morning and assured him everything was fine between them. She liked it and yearned for it again but she doesn't know if this was good for them or something he still wanted, often restrained and quiet in his responses. They haven't talked about it again since that night, like a forbidden secret. Although they had spent time together, she couldn't ignore a permanent tug that would long for him. A part of her believed this would always be her disposition about him. Something she had learned to accept and not a need to fulfil its demands.