There is a boy you know. You're friends with him. More than? Cause every time he looks at you, you feel electric shocks- in both your brain and heart- but he is not the one you love.

Still, every time you meet those pretty blue eyes, you find yourself thinking of the times you could have pursued something more with him and how you didn't even try. And although you know that it was only chemistry, there's nothing in the world you can do about it.

But you love your husband. He's good to you, he's a good man. He takes care of you when you need it, and he's the one you think to have children with.

But every time you close your eyes, your thoughts drift to your youth, and the boy who takes up most of your memories during that time. He would have been best remaining in your memories, but till this day, ten years after college and university, the two of you sit together once again.

His fingers are curled around a spliff like an eternal curse, a sight you saw several times in college: on campus or during the times he'd hang around at your apartment for help on an essay. His blonde hair, tousled effortlessly into an attractive charm. Even with the exhaustion etched under his deep blue eyes, he still has that youthful charisma to him, just rugged with age.

You sit with him on the couch, respectful distance between you both. It's funny, because you remember how the distance used to be much smaller until it was skin on skin, and he would practically mould into you, making two bodies; one.

But the diamond on your ring finger is what keeps this respectful relationship... respectful. You're a married woman now, not a Miss Perfect girl who would study endlessly. And he is nearing his late 30s as you are too, and he's still the Bad Boy who now has a tattoo sleeve and the endless streak of going through blunt after blunt.

Often, Yohan hangs out with you when your husband works late. Often, Yohan finds himself yearning for a relationship of what could've been. Just that the girl he wanted to change for is now taken by a man who's much more beneficial and loving, and now Yohan has no desire to drop his addiction he knew he'd be doomed with.

The show plays on the TV, but it seems like background chatter as he talks with you. Your legs are perched by your side, covered by a comfy throw. His ankles take purchase on the edge of your coffee table, in the very home you live in with your husband. During the times he's alone with you, he selfishly imagines himself as the wealthy and successful man who takes care of you in this home. Of course, they're quiet thoughts.

A light chuckle syncs with your own as the two of you recall a funny memory from college. There's a very subtle solemnity towards the fact that you indeed cannot be young forever. At least he's been granted with a chance to see you again, even if it stung to be at your own wedding 3 years ago.

"So, you thinking of having kids?" He questions, glancing towards you as he takes a hit from his spliff. While the conversation is casual, Yohan feels a hurt in his heart that he continues to drown out with each inhale of his blunt. He's not a teenager anymore, and you're not someone he can have in his arms again.

"Would fill this big ass house with some noise." He muses, but there's almost no spark in the kick of his throat. Only because they would be your kids with another man. "You'd be a fuckin' great mom too."