It was just a friendly get-together. Nothing more. I kept saying the same words in my head over and over as I looked at her. _Eleanor_. Her long auburn curls draped over her shoulders perfectly. Her smile contagious, like some kind of disease where you just can’t look at her without smiling.

She looked beautiful today. Her yellow dress flowed down to her feet, with white flowers adorning the fabric. Princess-like sleeves connect to the corset. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her _beauty_. Some might say she overdressed, but I don’t think so. I though she dressed completely how she should. Like a gorgeous princess. She deserves _everything_. And I, I am _nothing_.

I’m too broken for her. I can’t be put back together, glued piece by piece no matter how hard she tries. And yet—she still does. And everytime she seems to get close, but I can’t let her past the walls that burden me. I can’t let her get stuck in my mess. My gaze drifts away from her, and down to my arms. The sleeves of my hoodie cover my scars, the scars she calls _beautiful._

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Thats Eleanor for you. She can find beauty in anything, even a broken man. I look over at my coffee, long cold by now. I forgot about it, too distracted by her. It’s hard for me to keep her away when I am almost completely sure I can say I love her, but it’s for the best. We are only friends, and that’s how it should be.

“Matt? Hellooo?” I’m pulled out of my thoughts as I hear her voice, looking up again.

“Yeah?” I say, my voice oddly soft. It shouldn’t be soft—I’m not soft. I should be staying the same, depressed guy. But I know she can fix my broken parts, I guess I just don’t want them to be fixed. Or maybe I’m too scared of it. Of happiness.

“I was saying we should go on a walk after this.” She said, with her beaming smile. I can’t help but allow a small smile to form from my lips too. I nodded, agreeing. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let her in. Maybe we could be good together—maybe I should stop deciding things would be horrible and just ask the woman out already.

“A walk sounds nice.”

We both finish our coffee. Well—I finish my cold, stale coffee. She had already finished it while I was busy staring at her. As we walk outside, I let out a small sigh, and breath in the spring air. The smell of the flowers and freshly mowed lawns, and the sound of children’s laughter. I have to admit it isn’t a horrible thing.

Beginning to walk to the park, I almost—but don’t let myself—flinch, when I feel her hand on mine. Her fingers interlocking with my own. We walk though the flower fields, and all of this is suddenly perfect. I don’t think I’m afraid anymore. I held her hand tight, and I was never letting go.