mandocello [lenku]

mandocello

He finally makes it to his seat, the sudden burst of heat thawing out his ruddy cheeks as he pulls his hood off of his head. His sunlight hair seems to burst out from its cloth prison, and he rubs his hands together from under his desk in a vain attempt to regain feeling in his icy fingers. His eyes glance up at the clock. 7:56. He wasn't late after all, which certainly meant that he definitely had enough time to grab the umbrella his mother tried to offer him before he bolted out the front door in a panic. 

He rests his elbows on the desk with a sigh, his irritation growing from the realization. His jeans, sticking to his legs uncomfortably, and wet socks certainly doesn't alleviate the feeling.The one day Mom can't drive me to school...I should've just gotten out of bed the first time. I forgot how much I hate the rain. Sleeping in wasn't worth soggy socks and...

Laughter, reminiscent of warmth and tenderness, floats through the air, faltering his thoughts. His heartbeat quickens and his cheek finds its way to the palm of his hand as he leans forward and sets his smitten gaze upon the radiant girl.

Miku Hatsune sits in the next row, only two seats ahead of him—yet to Len, she exists in a separate realm, a million lightyears away. Iron-willed, graceful, witty, level-headed; all the things that he isn't. 

But, like Len, she is gentle, kind, and good-natured. Like Len, she loves thriller novels, corny old movies, and loud music. She certainly wouldn't treat him unkindly, should he approach her. So, what exactly is it that stops him, then, from striking a conversation about their favorite thriller authors, or asking about her favorite bands? 

He was born with the curse of being painstakingly, terribly shy, someone would say. Others would say that it's cowardice. Truthfully, to Len, there is little difference when it comes to him; the two are interlocked by the fingers like star-crossed lovers meeting for the final time. He wishes that even for a minute, he'd have the debonair boldness of Gakupo Kamui, the long violet-haired fencer who's been pining over Miku from his seat next to her in class, or the witty yet romantic vocabulary of Kaito Shion, Miku's midnight-haired childhood best friend whose eyes have, for almost as long as Len's, possessed a glimmer of yearning when he catches sight of her. Between the suave confidence of Gakupo and the poetic charm of Kaito stands Len, forever wavering their towering shadows and forever fearful of letting the sunshine rain down upon him, if it should choose to do so.

With this information and countless lonely nights, he's come to the only rational conclusion he could find: there's little to no hope for him. Why would Miku ever, even in the depths of insanity, take his shaking and sweaty hand over Gakupo's strong and firm grasp, or Kaito's warm and inviting touch?

But he doesn't think of these things now. Those despondent thoughts will come to him later, when he spots Gakupo standing tall over her locker, talking to her with an esteemed confidence, or when he sees Kaito walking her home, speaking to her with honeyed words and effortless prose falling from his lips. Now, as he sits in his seat uncomfortably drenched with rainwater, all he can think about is some foolish fantasy where he doesn't carry with him an air of awkwardness when near her, and his words are strong and don't falter under her soft and sweet gaze.

The rain begins to plummet harder, the noise against the school rooftop growing into a steady roar. He thinks of her in the rain, how those droplets of water would turn into diamonds shining in that lovely hair of hers, and how those captivating blue-green eyes would be riddled with trouble and annoyance. Then, without an ounce of nervousness in his body, he'd cover her with his umbrella- his hands would be steady and calm, and he'd flash her a generous smile, which she'd return. They'd walk together, and talk- maybe she plays the same video games as he does, or listens to similar music, or maybe she's got this interesting hidden skill that he isn't aware of. This is the part that he sorely loves- the part where he can get to know her.