We were given an assignment. To stare at the painting "Nighthawks" and write whatever comes to mind.

This is mine.

"It's been a long time.." I began, licking my lips after. "A really long time.."

Ace kept his brown eyes glued to mine, his quirk of an unfaltering gaze hadn't changed over the years. I pinched my lips shut, waiting for his reply. We had talked about many things, but acknowledging the time that had passed seemed almost sacrilegious to bring up.

As he remained still, I studied his face. His eyes had gathered much darker bags than when I last saw him. His lips were dry and cracked, it was evident depression had crept up on his back much worse than it had mine.

His appearance bore endless questions in my mind from when did he last sleep? Is he staying hydrated? And does he own chapstick? I kept my concerns to myself, balling them up and lobbing them into the back of mind.

He lowered his head, his fluffy brown hair covering his face and before I knew it, laughed. "I can't truly wrap my head around it. Most of my days were spent in airplane mode." He said, shrugging his shoulders with little effort.

I chuckled in return and cupped my hands around my lukewarm cup of coffee. I ordered it over 2 hours ago and have yet to take a sip. I was too enthralled by our conversation. Ace ordered a vanilla latte and finished it rather fast. That was different from 2 years ago. He always ordered a hot chocolate whenever we went out. Something about the change left me with an eerie feeling.

Maybe the fact time had proven once again to be merciless.

He noticed I kept my same routine. Order a plain black coffee, 4 creamers, and only use 2 and a half.

When I commented on his change, he was quick to answer with "do you want me to order that?" almost like a clueless child aiming to please.

The warm lighting casted a comforting aesthetic across the diner. When I walked in, I was petrified. But when we sat down and I met his eyes, my shoulders released the tension and my breathing steadied.

We did speak of the past. I told him all the things I had done in the last 2 years, and he told me how he missed me since my warmth dissipated from his skin. The words alone felt like a hatched in my chest. The roles had reversed, now I was the traveler and he was the faithful hound waiting on my step.

I traced the rim of my cup, clearing my throat. "You've changed a lot..." I said, my words growing softer with each one. Ace bit his lip, then his gaze faltered, and he began to avoid my eyes.

He gulped, audible enough I think our neighbors at the next table could hear. "I adapted..."

I could feel the tension grow between us. "Can you tell me what you did..?" He asked, reiterating the question he asked 2 hours earlier. My expression distorted into confusion and I snickered. "I told you already?" I replied.

"Can you do it again..?" He began to tap his fingers against his palm. I took a deep breath and began my story again.

I started with the first couple months while we were away and how I started new hobbies, new music, and sold a few paintings. He returned the eye contact and smiled, leaning back into the seat and listening to my every word.

"You know what's funny?" Ace said, chuckling after. I hummed in reply.

"After all that, you still haven't changed.."