She's in everything, everywhere...

Yes, that's what he still felt. No matter where he'd go, or what he'd do...

He still saw her in everything. In some way.

Or was it just that she was a part of him, and that he'd think he'd see her in everything because of that?

Either way, it didn't change things.
The way he saw things.

The watery grey-blue of her eyes... he could see it on the sleeves of his best friends shirt. Brushing his fingers along the material... it reminded him of her.

The brown shade of her long hair... he saw it the flow of Jovan's hair. Feeling the brush of the strands of hair against him reminded him of her.

Fredrick's friendliness. The way he'd love putting his hands on him, teasing him into aggrivation. That reminded him of her.

Thinking too deeply on it. Delving too far into the memories. It would dredge things up from in himself he's been trying to get rid of.

But still could not.

He sighs, pulling the cigerette from his mouth, gently tapping off the ashes in an absentminded fashion. His eyes fixed on the sky between the branches and leaves of the trees... but not really seeing them.

Even the warmth of the cigarette smoke... that reminded him of her. The warmth of her breath. The warmth of her mouth...

Micheal closes his eyes and frowns.

No.

He can't go there. He won't go there.

Still holding his lit cigarette between two fingers, he pulls his flask out, unscrews the lid, and brings the mouth of the flask to his lips. Pausing a moment before tipping it and letting the liquid slide past his lips, along his tongue, and down his throat.

Stop thinking about it so much. Just let it go. You let her go a long time ago.

Snatches of lyrics came floating through his mind. The others had a love for music, he'd hear sections of various songs wafting to him through the air often.

Still, even those would sometimes lead him to remembering her.

He had unknowingly screwed the lid back on the flask and put it away again, placing the cigarette back between his lips. Leaning back once more, watching the clouds slowly trek across the sky.

Much like the flow of time, the clouds looked almost as if it didn't move at all if you paid attention to them. But once you let her mind wander from them, and look back to them again. If you REALLY look at them again, you can see it's moved. Things are the same, and yet still have also changed.

Somehow...
even the feel of the women he'd kept in his company at some time or other... at some point he'd feel her drift through his mind.
Sentiment for the first person you'd slept with was suppose to be a sentiment females held, wasn't it? Why did he feel he held it close to him though? Why did their firsts with one another still cling to him? Or rather, why did he still cling to them?

He brought his fingers to his lips, plucking the cigarette from his mouth, clencing his jaw shut, holding his eyes shut tightly.

He pulled his pocket ashtray from his pocket, flicked it open with one hand, and crushed the remains of his cigarette into it before snapping it closed and replacing it in his pocket.

He sat up, opening his eyes, sliding one knee up, resting his elbow onto it, placing the other hand on the ground next to him in the grass to steady himself.

Even had he wanted to... he'd be unable to speak with her. Even if she stood in front of him, or sat next to him. He'd have no words for her. What could he possibly say? Words for her had dried up and died in him a long time ago.

But those feelings hadn't quite.
He was able to push them down, lock them up. But remnants of them still remained. He was unable to destroy them, or cast them aside.

He didn't know why.

He could still recall the feel of her skin underneath his finger tips. The warmth of her body pressing against him. The sound of her voice as she would say his name, call to him.
His own voice as he'd call her name out to her, whisper it to her...

"Rene..." he quietly said aloud.

"Hmm? What was that, Micheal?" Wallace and Jovan were standing next to him. He hadn't even noticed them approach.

"Did you say something, Micheal?" Wallace repeated Jovan's previous question.

Micheal began to stand, slowly, "No, nothing."

Wallace was studying Micheal, a curious and somewhat concerned look in his eyes. But he kept quiet, and didn't let the expression on his face change.

Micheal brushed his jeans off with his hands.

"Oh, alright. Well, we came over to tell you we're ready to go now!" Jovan said brightly, smiling at Micheal.

He nodded to her in return, "Yeah, okay. I'll be there in a second."

Jovan was still smiling as she headed off back in the direction of the others.

Wallace stood there, quietly watching Micheal for a moment, and then he turned and made his way back to the others as well.

Micheal was still glancing up at the sky, watching the clouds make their slow progress across the blue sky, hands in his pockets.

He opted for a tooth pick this time, pulling one out and placing it in the corner of his mouth. He really ought to stop smoking.

Someday.

The thought brought a ghost of a smile to his lips. He pulled his gaze away from the sky, and focused back on his friends, walking over to meet with them.