Inspired by: What's Left of Me (Nick Lachey), Truly Madly Deeply (Savage Garden), Cold As You (Taylor Swift), Cry (Mandy Moore), Selfish (Nikki Flores), Bless The Broken Road (Rascal Flatts)

Author's note: I wrote this in 30 minutes, tops! Just thought I'd share my attempt of getting back my muse. It's kinda working. Kinda. Haha.

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This is How We Do

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I told him - no matter what - as long as he needed me, that I'd be there to hold his hand. Because he needed it, you know. Even when he said he didn't.

He was the uncaring, indifferent one who only smiled when he found it worth to. I never went a day without wearing my brightest grin.

It was weird, you know. Like it came out of no where. I couldn't help myself, though. I saw him, every day. He'd walk into the café, order the same thing. He was about stability. He knew what he wanted, he always got what he worked for. He was a hardworking person, I could see.

He was guarded too! Oh my, was he ever guarded. He didn't want anyone near him; what he'd do to keep those around at arm's length. But me? I saw it as a cry for help.

I told him this. He laughed at me. A mocking laugh, and he asked me why. He was humouring me, I know. But honestly? I knew I was right. He needed help. He needed someone to be there for him. And I don't know why, but there was this gravitational pull, me to him. It wasn't lust or physical attraction. He was just that guy I couldn't help but notice in a crowded hallway. He'd try to be scarce, but he stuck out like a sore thumb.

And oh, was he brilliant. He couldn't keep away from peoples' prying eyes because he had the voice that you just had to listen to. His voice was powerful; he was meant to be heard.

He just doesn't see that. He doesn't understand, he doesn't care, that he has the power to make a difference. I know he can. He could be this amazing person. The world can see what I see in him. Because all I see is him, what he can do, what he's capable of. His strengths, his weaknesses.

He pushes me away. We get angry at each other. We argue loudly and I hit him, trying to make him feel something. He walks away, and I stand there, trying to control my sobs. He doesn't understand, sometimes, and it's so frustrating. I want him to be better. I want him to deal amazingly like the world never thought possible.

I didn't realize what was happening, until it already happened. I was watching him listlessly, one day. He was shooting hoops and I was waiting for him to finish because I got him to agree to tutor me in a class. There was this look of concentration on his face. It was raw determination, and looking at his face, I knew that he never half assed anything in his life. Whatever he did, he did it with all his heart. And I admired him for that.

He wiped sweat off his brow and glanced at me without warning. I smiled back instinctively and then he sort of grinned his half smile. His eyes, which were usually hard, held warmth in them. It was an unguarded moment that completely took my breath away.

Sometimes he would hold me. Just… we would hug, silently, for a long, long time. It was the kind of hug where we just needed to feel each other, that we were there, that we weren't going to leave. It was a pure moment, no selfishness, no intent. It was one of my favourite moments because it was when, despite everything, I knew he cared.

And then the day came when he had to leave. It was our last day together.

He was standing there with his backpack. He was leaving halfway across the world. His face, like the first time I saw him, was unreadable. Even when I felt like I was being ripped apart, I smiled my brightest grin and handed him the same damn coffee he bought every single visit to the café.

His eyes sort of flickered, and without warning, he stepped forward and grabbed my free hand. Surprised, I couldn't do anything but fall into his arms. His head bent, and his lips were on mine. I felt my heart explode, and my eyes fell shut. I felt the tears leak out and I could feel the sob rising to my throat. My heart was aching so badly.

He pulled away, his soft. He reached to my face and rubbed the tears running down my cheek.

"You're going to make it big," I said in a whisper, pure happiness coating my tone. He was. I knew he was.

And then he smiled, his hand gripping mine tightly. In that moment, I swear we were infinite. "Keep holding my hand?"

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