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Answered

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There is no word to describe who, I mean what he is. He is a man with a strong heart and body, full of confidence and has a charismatic aura like a country's ruler. Yet, when he speaks about his dream and vision, he quickly becomes a young girl, talking about her first love. His eyes could not stop sparkling that my eyes see stars when I look away. His cherry lips keep moving like a runaway train. I could not predict when they would stop moving. He is a man worthy of my admiration, no more than that.

- - - - - - - - - - -

But, his last three words caught me off guard.

He smiled and got off his seat after he said that while I was paralyzed in my seat. He said he'd call me later. Then, my brain did something it never used to do. Calculate. Later? When is later? Later like, when he got home? Or when I got home? Or later means tomorrow?

The waitress who always waits for us came over when she saw me still sitting there, in a frozen gesture. "Miss?" she called. I looked up slowly and I was a human again. "Uh...yes?"

"Did he break up with you?"

I left the cafe immediately. He usually paid for me whenever we went to that cafe. I was still in disbelief even after I crawled to my bed that night. Then, my cellphone buzzed. I had turned it on to silent because I hated it when got woke up by a phone call. I read the message.

"You know I was serious, right?" he wrote.

It took me few good minutes to reply. "Yeah..."

"I really want us to be together so I will give you some time to think."

"Wait. What " I stopped, thinking what I should write next. "Wait. What makes you said that?"

He took no longer than 30 seconds when I received his reply. "The I love you? Because I just do."

A huge hot blush crept on my face. "No, seriously. What is it that makes you love me?"

At this, he took some time to reply. I knew that he was typing everything he thought about me until...RING!

Unconsciously I answered his call. I swore at myself for having that reflex.

"I love you when you intently listening to me talking about my dreams and goals and not being prejudiced with them. I love you when you smile shyly and feel grateful when you accepted something that is least important like an extra muffin from the waitress the other day and when a stray cat rubbed at your feet when we sat at the park. I love you that you have to go out of your way just to meet me on a rainy day. I love you that our relationship started with friendship. I love you when you struggled to keep your hair from falling into your mocha when you can just tie it. I love you when you were there with me when my mom passed away..."

Here, his voice started to crack. He paused for a moment. I waited.

"I love you for being so thoughtful that you even spared me another umbrella since I always forgot mine at home. I love you for your beautiful heart. I love you for you eyes, your face, your skin, your lips..."

"Okay, stop. No need to get into details here." Finally I spoke up. "I won't stop until you believe me," he said over the phone. He chuckled for a bit. "We've been friends since college. I didn't foresee this could happen."

"Neither did I," I said, exhaling a deep sigh. I heard a smirk from him. "You're probably all red from hearing my confession." Oh, I feel like throwing my phone from the window. "I am serious. So please think about it seriously. As much as I fear my boss, losing you is what I fear the most."

I thought for a while. He was the kind of guy who can't accept being just friends. But...

"Well, what do YOU think about me?" another question from him caught me off guard, as if he was reading my mind. I let out a Patrick (Spongebob Squarepants)'s "Uhhh..." I heard him laughed and said, "Oh, I love you when you do that too."

Then there was an awkward silence between us. I started. "From the first time we meet, I always thought there's something about you that sets you apart from the rest. But I couldn't figure out what back then. You didn't have a particular friend whom you can call as best friend but I noticed, it was always me you called out to. Even now."

"Are you saying that I don't know other girls?"

"Don't cut me, fool! Like I said. Being the only girl who was close to you, you didn't know how attractive you are from the eyes of my species. The girls from other lectures will come and see me and asked whether we were going out or not. They'd always ask for your number."

"But I never received..."

"It's because I gave them the wrong number."

I sensed his surprised from his silence. "And when they asked whether we were going out. I said no. But I told them you were going out with someone else that I didn't know of.

When they asked what's your favourite perfume, I'd always told them the brand you hated the most. So that you would wear the ones I bought for you. And when they asked me where you hanged out the most, I'd told them at a club but we always hang out at that same cafe. When..."

"Since when?" his voice suddenly got deep. I sighed slowly. "Since the day when I couldn't describe you. You know me. I have a habit of describing people. People who loves themselves but can't help but feel sympathy for other people and so on. But you...I couldn't figure you out. And that frustrates me. So I told myself I need to know you deeper. But I got in too deep. It was too late to get out..."

I was on a brink of crying. I didn't intend to tell him that. I feel like wrestling with a snail on my porch so I could get into its shell instead. It can have my bed. It's bedsheet is from Aussino.

I heard a knock. "Darn it. Don't tell me you're in front of my door! It's raining like hell outside!!!" I exclaimed into the phone.

I opened the door. There he stood wet from the rain with a painful but affectionate look on his face. I've seen all his faces but not this one.

"How can I wait for tomorrow when I heard you say that?" his voice croaked. I pulled him into the house and got a dry towel for him. To my surprise, he pulled me and embraced me tightly. I could feel his heart beating furiously. Mine as well. "We're so stupid," I whispered. He nodded his head. "You've fought for me all this while," he said in a low voice. I smiled as tears started to fall down from my eyes. "Don't let me go again," I said.

"I love you," we said that together. 

Previous short story:
de-com-po-ser
Next short story:
Nothing's Gonna Change My World
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about the writer

Blake Zane

An Otaku and an Escapist. A Dreamer and Imaginative. Rides Pegasus and eats Ambrosia. Sleeps in the Clouds with Thunder as Lullaby. Eccentric but not Extreme. Loves but not in Love.
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