Every Stroke of Your Prologue (Parisian Series #1)

Beginning

Pieces—bind the entirety of an individual. A pure, untainted, and flawless persona born in one piece. A world deemed as a delicate box of rainbows and butterflies by an innocent mind. However, I received the complete opposite of the life I thought I'd be facing.

Every piece of my world.

Every piece of my word.

Every piece.

The world has water, air, and vast land of different discoveries.

The water that was once calming in the depths of my eyes drowned me. Air that blew my cries away, hearing his deep baritone voice together with the strike of it—telling me to breathe—is suffocating me in his absence. The greens of possibilities and fabricated truth planted in my heart were morphed into dead silence in the dirty dread of pain.

Every shattered piece of myself was picked up by him.

Ang mundo na ipinagkait sa akin. Ang mundong makasalanan na matagal ng nakatatak sa isip ko. Ang mundo na akala ko'y hindi ko magagalawan at mararanasan ay iyong mundo na ginawa niya para sa akin.

I was dependent on him that it's too peaceful to break myself knowing he's there to catch every piece of me. He will always be at the receiving end to glue me back together. To hush my sobs. To reassure me over and over again. Everything was either healed by him or caused by him—to the point that living without him seemed impossible.

Every piece of me; The pain of my past. The butterflies gnawing at us in the present. And the harsh expectations of the future. Every part of life was bearable because I was only whole because of him.

Lahat ng piraso na bumubuo sa akin ay katanggap tanggap kahit marumi at masama, dahil hindi lumipas ang bawat araw na ipinapaalala niya sa akin na—ang mga basag na piraso na 'yon ang rason kung bakit niya ako minahal ng buo.

But looking at the huge painting poking my cold eyes... Is... It's... painfully satisfying.

Ngayon na lang ulit ako naiiyak sa isang maliit at walang kwentang bagay.

That worthless piece of my past invading the guards inside my heart. Destroying them to inflict another pain from the same person.

I scoffed. "Wow, congratulations, Khione. After all these years, iyakin ka na ulit..." Blinking the tears away, I cleared my throat to gather the sanity I've perfected for a long time.

Hindi pwedeng mabasag na naman ako. Mahirap. Mahirap buoin ang sarili mag-isa. Kaya hindi pwede.

At hindi ka pa sure na siya ang may gawa niyan, Khione. Kumalma ka! 'Wag assuming!

"Uy! Andyan ka lang pala! Akala ko kung nasan ka na napunta! Hinahanap mo rin ba 'yung painting nu'ng kapwa Pilipino natin?" Napahigpit ang kapit ko sa sling bag nang marinig ang excited na boses ni Arthur.

Kapwa Pilipino. Feel na feel niya masyado e.

"Nope. Bakit ba kasi dito mo ako dinala sa Louvre?" I feigned an unpleased face to hide the nervousness coming back in my system.

"Naks. Akala mo talaga! Alam ko namang mahilig ka sa mga paintings kaya rito kita dinala. Tsaka andito rin tayo para suportahan 'yung Filipino painter!"

Naglakad na kami paalis sa parte ng museum kung saan maraming taong nagsisiksikan. Ewan ko rin kung medyo shunga 'to si Arthur at hindi napansin 'yung dami ng taong tumitingin sa... painting na 'yun.

"Do we really need to support the painter? It's not a big deal, everyone can easily break records nowadays." Nagkibit ako ng balikat at hindi pinansin ang bigat ng dibdib ko.