English Version: Sands & Sparrow

18

Aveline flipped through another page of the book she was reading, her fingers trembling slightly. The leather-bound volume of poetry felt heavy in her hands. The heartfelt poems within pierced her heart, each verse amplifying her longing for Margo's company. She exhaled deeply, her breath fogging the nearby window, obscuring the view of the rain-soaked street outside.

Her gaze shifted to the dinner table where she had prepared Margo's favorite dishes. The aroma of kare-kare filled the air. Steam still rose from the carefully arranged plates, the food growing cold as the minutes ticked by.

The weight of their past conversations pressed on her mind, memories flooding back with vivid clarity.

"Let's try a new game, Margo," Aveline suggested one lazy Sunday afternoon, sunlight streaming through the curtains.

"What game?" Margo replied, her eyebrow arched with curiosity.

"Twenty-one questions. I ask, you answer." Aveline's eyes sparkled with excitement.

"That sounds like a child's game, Aveline." Margo's tone was dismissive, but a hint of amusement played at the corners of her mouth.

"Come on, don't be such a spoilsport. Tell me something random about yourself." Aveline persisted, nudging Margo playfully.

"Alright," Margo conceded with a dramatic sigh.

"What's your favorite dish?"

"I have a fondness for Filipino cuisine. Kare-kare, in particular." Margo's answer was unexpected, her usually guarded expression softening.

"Really? You love a Filipino dish, Margo? Kare-kare is my favorite, too." Aveline beamed, feeling a surge of connection.

A smile gleamed on Aveline's lips as she reminisced. Despite Margo's often stern composure, she always humored Aveline's questions, revealing small pieces of herself like precious gems.

Aveline's eyes then drifted to the antique clock on the mantle; its ticking seemed to grow louder in the silence. It was already 8 pm. She hoped Margo would return early, yet part of her wished to avoid her. Her insecurities crept in, dark tendrils wrapping around her thoughts, highlighting her inadequacies. She had nothing to offer, a harsh reality that hit her hard.

With a sense of defeat, she turned another page of the book, the paper rustling softly in the quiet room. The words blurred before her eyes, emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

Aveline clutched her chest, her nails digging into the soft fabric of her sweater. Her sadness overwhelmed her, and a tidal wave of despair crashed over her. "Can I hate you?" she whispered to her heart. "You're full of shit. Do you even realize what you've done? How can you be so indecisive? Why Margo? Why choose her?" Her voice cracked as she continued, "You could have chosen anyone... Margo is too much for me." She quickly wiped away the moisture that threatened to fall, her sleeve rough against her cheek. Resigning herself to a sad contemplation, she stared at the rain-streaked window.

Blaming her heart for her misery was futile. It wouldn't change anything; the reality of her hopeless existence remained. With a heavy sigh that seemed to come from the depths of her soul, she gently placed the book back on the shelf, her fingers lingering on its spine for a moment. She returned the pen to its holder, the soft click as it settled into place.

The silence engulfed her once more, broken only by the steady rhythm of the rain and the relentless ticking of the clock, counting down the moments until Margo's return.

The colorful pens caught her eye, all arranged by specific colors in a sleek metal holder on the desk. From deep indigo to vibrant red, a kaleidoscope of hues formed perfectly. A special memory suddenly flooded her heart, as vivid as it had happened yesterday.