Tag Archives: romance

Noah was still a little puppy

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Christie was a small girl–a modest 5-footer who had deceivingly slender legs that people thought she was taller. As she turned into a “real lady” at 18, she received the two best gifts: a puppy and her ticket to her very first date.

She was excited for her own puppy, but she was even more excited for her first date. She had never gone out with a boy. Her parents, especially her father, had been strict, but her obedience was rewarded with her parents’ trust and confidence that she can manage herself now that she was a mature lady.

She didn’t really have a date ready and waiting. She was yet to find one but that was okay. Because anytime she decided to date a boy–excuse me, a man–she didn’t need to worry about getting permission anymore.

She did have a crush. Standing at 175cm, Kevin was the tall guy she had always wanted. That she had to raise her head a couple of degrees just to meet his eyes everytime she closely talked with him was what she enjoyed the most. She could fully see her reflection in the brown of his round Chinese eyes. She met his eyes and felt his breath against her forehead whenever he talked, and she adored that about him.

They were in the same college and, being grade consious freshmen, they often caught each other at the library cramming on research papers. They sometimes took breaks together and pondered over final exams and reports.

At some point, she secretly assumed he liked him, too, when he asked for her number.

For three months, she waited for a call that never came. She wondered why he asked for her number in the first place. She never asked. They continued to see each other at the library, sometimes at some fast food.

She was still hopeful that Kevin was going to be her first date. Her only dream date.

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What’s more certain than the love of a dog?

She had left it without farewell, without assurance of when she’d be coming back or if she’d be back for it at all–but it had always loved her. It had always waited for her. Noah, a stout beagle, still gave her the same kind of cheek-licking and hip-waggling affection whenever she returned.

Noah didn’t easily forget her and move on. It never would. 

Christie threw her beagle’s torn up toy bone, and it landed just a little beyond the lawn of the small neighborhood park. Her eyes were locked on Noah as he ran towards the pavement but she had become aware of a blurry image on the other side of the road. It seemed like lovers in courtship, their shoulders coyly brushing, hands anxiously swaying in hopes of finding each other. 

One blink switched her focus from the vaulting beagle to the couple. The boy seemed familiar to Christie. 

One blink and it all became clear.   The soft contours of the boy’s nose and chin, same banged hairstyle which concealed a big forehead, athletic chest and shoulders. 

In fact, he was very familiar–even more familiar than the hungry howl of her only dog of nine years or the stink of her after-jog perspiration. Simply because she had been with him so much longer than a couple of days. 

Seven years and ten weeks, to be exact.