forum “I wish we never met.” “No you don’t. Please don’t say that.” (Closed)

Started July 14, 2023 by @emilyevewrites group

tune

(Valid, because I do that all the time 😭)

Farah offered a small smile at his remark. "I still shouldn't have been so…" She struggled to find the right word for a moment before finishing her sentence. "Brash."

She glanced over at him as he took off his hoodie. Though she still couldn't quite believe he'd worn a hoodie on a date, her eyes studied him briefly. Her gaze trailed down his sleeve of tattoos before realizing again what she was doing and tore her eyes away. But not before a little flash caught her periphery and she looked back to catch his piercings glinting in the dim light.

Though Farah missed the way he looked at her. She was utterly oblivious as she walked, waiting for him to ask her something. And when he did, she was extremely caught off guard.

Her eyes widened, and she looked over at him with an incredulous look. Finally, she sighed and shook her head. "Truthfully, I'm torn between two reasons. The first is that I haven't found the person I was meant for. The second is that I'm not sure if I believe anymore that there really is a person meant for me."

Isaac doesn't meet Farah's eyes when he speaks.

"It's not like you did it on purpose, Farah. Even if you had, I'd still forgive you, because. . ."

He pauses and looks at Farah, a strange smile on his face.

". . . what else am I supposed to do about it?"

He rubs his arm self-consciously, then fiddles with his piercings.

"The tattoos were. . . a gift. I did the piercings myself," he explains.

Isaac blushes and doesn't meet Farah's astounded look, though he looks serious when he speaks.

"Don't talk like that. You'll meet someone, I'm sure," he replies.

(No worries! I get that! And I’ll give that song a listen later :))

Farah didn’t mind the way he wasn’t looking at her. She had her fair share of shy students who didn’t want to approach her but convinced themselves to anyway. Then they couldn’t manage to look anywhere other than her desk or the wall. She politely obliged each of them and did the same now for Isaac.

But Farah felt the oddest feeling come over her as he said her name. Not wanting to admit it aloud… she quite liked the way he said it, even as what he said startled her. Farah blushed lightly before nodding at his explanations. She was intrigued, but she didn’t comment.

Farah hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know how you can be so sure, but I appreciate your attempt to keep my hopes up. I feel I should tell you I’m not worth the effort, so don’t go worrying about me. What my dear friend Saul seems to lack knowledge of is the fact that I’m perfectly fine and settled on my own.”

Isaac shakes his head at Farah's silence, a sad smile flashing across his face.

"Nevermind. . . I'm just a bit tired," he says with a bright tone.

"It isn't a false hope, you know. I know you'll find someone. I know it," he grins.

Farah couldn’t help the dry laugh that spilled from her lips at his remark. “I’m sorry,” she said shortly. “But I don’t know how that would be possible. I don’t think anyone could love me as I am now.”

She didn’t look over at him, keeping her gaze straightforward. This was exactly one of the reasons she thought she couldn’t find someone. Because the second they started showing interest or trying to get close to her, Farah’s immediate instinct was to push them away. Most never came back.

Isaac steps forward a couple steps then into Farah's path.

At that moment, illuminated by the streetlamp right behind him, he looked a bit like a dark god.

Just a bit.

The illusion is broken when he speaks.

"Nonsense. Look at me. I've been with. . . more people than I care to remember. I'm shy, can't stand up for myself, and I constantly get hurt because of my stupid choices. If I'm like that and people find me charming, I'm willing to bet all $125 in my bank account that you'd have no issues finding the one who'll love you no matter what, Farah," he declares. He seemed determined to die on this hill, at least.

Farah pulled up short as Isaac cut in front of her path. Her eyes widened at the sight of him for a moment, then widened more at his words.

She marveled at how open he was. It had been years since she'd been that trusting. And… he spoke so firmly and passionately that she was completely caught off guard. For a few seconds, she just blinked at him, her lips parted but unable to find any words.

Finally, Farah shook her head. "I don't know how you believe something like that as passionately as you do. I still have my doubts, but… I hope you're right." Farah offered a final faint smile before dropping the subject. She needed to talk about something else, immediately. "So, besides harassing me about my miserable love life, what interests you?"

Isaac chuckles.

"Stubbornly sticking to my beliefs is my specialty," he replies.

He thinks about her question, then moves so they can start walking.

He looks up at the city-muted sky and for the longest time he's silent.

He glances over at her, and flushes slightly.

"Well. . . do you read?" he asks.

Farah smiled faintly. “It’s an admirable quality,” she complimented.

As he moved out of her way, they began walking again. Farah waited for an answer to her question, and she noticed him looking up at the sky. It looked beautiful, so she took out her phone and snapped a quick picture of it. Just as she was pocketing the device, Isaac spoke.

Farah feigned offense for a moment. “Do I read?” she asked incredulously. Then she realized she knew what his job was and he didn’t know hers. She shook her head and smiled. “I’m a literature professor. Yes, I read. Quite often.”

Isaac laughs faintly.

"Thanks," he nods.

He flinches and looks confused. Had he forgotten something she'd said to him? Maybe. . . he wasn't sure now. . .

When she clarifies and seems calmer, he blushes and shakes his head.

"Of course you're a professor. . . and of literature. You do have a bookish sort of face, you know. What's your favorite book?" he asks.

Farah blushed at his remarks. “I’m afraid I don’t know,” she replied, a little smile pulling at her lips. “Do enlighten me.”

She could have seen the question coming from a mile away. It was nearly everyone’s first question when they found out what Farah did for a living. Frankly she was used to it by now, so she had her default answer ready. She really enjoyed romance novels, but she’d sooner eat dirt than admit that. So she had her second option at the ready.

“To Kill A Mockingbird,” Farah answered easily. “By Harper Lee. Published in 1960, won the Pulitzer Prize in 1961, spent 98 weeks on the New York Times best-seller list, and has been one of the most assigned books in the American educational system for years.”

She immediately realized how she’d just fired the information off without thought. If was a good book, but not one of her favorites that she could have gushed about for hours. “Yours?” Farah asked, clearing her throat.

Isaac blushes when Farah blushes, then even his ears turn red as she asks him to "enlighten" her.

"I would, but uh. . . I don't have a phone," he murmurs, fidgeting with his piercings. "And I'm not sure any camera would be able to capture even a tenth of your beauty."

He glances over at her and chuckles.

"That seemed very practiced. I should know. . ." he starts.

"Because my favorite book is a collection of poems written by Robert Frost. In particular, the poem 'Nothing Gold Can Stay,' written in 1923 and published in the Yale Review that same year." he says, in the same easy tone Farah had.

He laughs.

Farah's eyebrows arched, and her blush deepened at his comment. "I'm afraid your overestimating on behalf of my looks," she murmured, glancing back up at the sky. "I'm not that attractive."

Her eyes studied the sky, and she had to resist the urge to reach into her pocket again for her phone and take another picture of it. Half of her camera roll was pictures of the sky – a beautiful fiery sunset, fluffy white clouds against a clear vibrant blue, the dark grey palette of thunderheads as a storm rolled in. She was obsessed.

She blinked in surprise as he called her on her rehearsed answer. But as he replied in kind, her eyes alight with something akin to excitement. "Nature's first green is gold/Her hardest hue to hold," Farah quoted. A small smile appeared on her lips. "I adore Robert Frost."

Isaac smiles.

"I may be overestimating, but you are certainly underestimating," he counters.

"'Her early leaf’s a flower, but only so an hour.'" he continues, a light blush on his cheeks. "He got me through a lot of hard times with his poems. In a way, I guess I have him to thank for being able to talk to you right now. I wouldn't have even gone to college if it weren't for his poetry."

His counter made Farah's jaw drop. She quickly fixed herself except for the lingering blush that had appeared some time ago and wasn't seeming to fade, much to her annoyance.

"The leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief," Farah murmured, each word quieter than the last. "I feel that same way about several authors," she admitted. "It's part of what I try to teach my students. The understanding of certain pieces can be universal, but the meaning varies between individuals. A quote may seem mundane until placed in the midst of a person's heart."

She realized what she was saying and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to lecture you."

Isaac's blush deepens when Farah's jaw drops.

He murmurs something she can't quite catch in Korean.

"'So dawn goes to day. . .'" he whispers.

Isaac shakes his head, his hair obscuring his face.

"I get what you mean. A quote or line or word may mean something to you and be quite powerful, but for me it may mean something different or even mean nothing at all," he murmurs. "But it doesn't make it any less important, not in the slightest. In a way, it's more important once you find your own connection to it."

(I have an evil plot idea for this one… two, actually)

Farah barely heard the mutter, but she couldn’t tell what language it was. “You’re bilingual?” she asked curiously. While she wanted to know what he’d said, she wouldn’t pry. Obvious he didn’t want her knowing, since he’d spoken another complete language.

“Nothing gold can stay,” she finished instinctively. Whether it have been luck or God’s timing, they passed under a streetlamp as she spoke, and her golden hair illuminated in the lighting. It faded immediately after.

She looked over at him, trying to reign in her own eagerness about the topic. “Yes,” she agreed. A sly smirk appeared on her face. “You’d do well in my class,” she teased.

(Go right ahead- I live for complicated character relationships. But just so you know, you're not the only one with devious plot ideas :)

Isaac's blush deepens and he nods.

"My first language is actually Korean. My. . ." he starts before freezing, his tone going flat and his expression a shade blacker than the shadows around them, the blush gone entirely.

"It doesn't matter." he states, putting a very clear stop on the end of his sentence. Just like Farah's love life was touchy for her, Isaac's family was a subject he clearly had no interest in talking about.

As the light engulfs Farah when she recites the final line, Isaac glances over. He blushes, then notices something. He reaches over wordlessly and fixes her hair.

He looks worried at the notion that he'd fit in.

"Should I be worried? Do I have to go back to uni?" he asks.

(Damnnnnn I’m curious!)

Farah listened to him explain, interested in whatever he was going to say. Until he stopped suddenly and dismissed wherever the topic had been going. She blinked briefly in surprise, but as curious as she was, Farah let it drop. This was only the first time they were meeting each other after all. And she had things she didn’t want to reveal to someone who might as well have been a stranger.

Completing the poem made Farah smile. She was looking forward and didn’t even notice his hand extending toward her until he brushed a bit of her hair back. Immediately, she whipped her head to look over at him and fought the urge to step away. She was apparently jumpy too. And her hair was a particularly vulnerable spot for her. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Her smirk faded at his concern. “No,” she answered quickly. “No, that isn’t what I meant at all. You’re just…” Farah breathed deeply, thinking over her words for a moment. “You’re intellectual. You can have a conversation easily and express yourself. This are exactly the kind of qualities that I personally admire in a student. Or in any person,” she added.

(Heheh. So am I, but we'll both never tell.)

Isaac jumps as well, blushing brightly.

"I- uh. . . your hair was just. . . it. . ." he murmurs before shaking his head. "Sorry. . . I didn't mean anything by it. . ."

He looks startled.

"'Intellectual?' Did Saul not tell you?" he asks curiously. He wonders just what kind of man Saul really was, not for the first time.

(I will if you will ;))

Farah instinctively reached up and smoothed her hand over the spot he'd touched. "No, no," she assured quickly. "It's alright. I know… Thank you." She smiled gently.

Though her smile quickly faded at the bewildered look on his face. His words made her lingering blush disappear surprisingly fast. Had she said something wrong? Had she offended him?

"Saul didn't tell me anything about you," Farah answered honestly. "When I pressed he said, and I quote, 'A blind date is supposed to be blind.'" She couldn't help but roll her eyes. "A true poet with words," she quipped sarcastically.

Something suddenly occurred to her, and she glanced over at Isaac cautiously. "Did he tell you anything about me?"

(Hmmm. . . but that defeats the point of the being devious, my dear. Mischievous grin)

Isaac looks like he wants to say something in return, but stops himself with a soft smile.

He then notes the way Farah's face changes and looks confused.

"Did I do something I shouldn't have?" he asks quietly.

Isaac snorts.

"Sounds exactly like him. . ." he sighs.

"Nope. All I knew was your face since he showed me a picture of you," he says with a soft chuckle.

"Is there anything in particular you wouldn't want him to tell me?" he asks. His expression and tone looked serious, but upon closer inspection it'd be pretty clear just from the look in his eyes that he was teasing.