He didn’t care who was watching. People could stare all they wanted, but he wasn’t walking away. He wasn’t moving.

You’d broken up— months ago. He told you it was for the better, that he wasn’t meant for someone like you. Someone so soft hearted and.. so kind.

He’d destroy anyone who’d get in his way— the way to you. The way home. That’s what you were. You were always home to him.

You stood a few feet away from him, the people around you seeming to blur out. All you saw was him.

“Look— maybe I'll get famous as the man who can't be moved. Maybe you won't mean to, but you'll see me on the news!” He started, voice desperately loud. “And maybe you'll come running to this corner.. ‘cause you'll know it's just for you. You know it’s where I’ll be.”

He let out a shaky breath, arms at his side as he looked at you— so far, but so close.

“I'm the man who can't be moved.”

You stared right back at him, heartbreak written all over your face. It hurt because he was the one who’d caused this. All of this. But despite it all, you still shone like the sun. Tears running down your face, and all.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, but it didn’t matter. Keeping his emotions at bay could wait forever and a day as long as it meant having you back. Doing to right.

“'Cause if one day you wake up and find that you're missing me, and your heart starts to wonder where on this Earth I could be—“

His hands were beginning to tremble— because this meant everything to him. You were everything worth living for.

“I’m thinking maybe you'll come back here to the place that we met.. and you'll see me waiting for you on the corner of the street.”

He met your gaze again, gaze softened and brows furrowed. He was completely breathless— he’d ran all the way here, to the place where you’d first bumped into each other. He’s fallen in love right then and there without even knowing your name.

“But I’m not moving. Not unless you tell me to go.”