Cadet at the city of Metropolis' prestigious military academy, Dusk Lancaster on the outside was a man to envy. Yet, behind his uniform, a beast having lost his compass thrived on the thrill of bloody duels, whilst the orphaned shoeshine boy he once...
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February 22nd 550 days to the miracle. Five past ten of that morning,
Sighing he leant forward, surrendering the weight of yet another tedious day on the railings. He belonged to the emptiness offered on the rooftop. That quiet place he retreated to day in and day out; hanging above the rowdy hallways he was bound to withdraw back into. Standing tall, levels of concrete away from the crowds, his thoughts ran rampant, in his voluntary solitude unchecked.
Another sigh escaped him.
This one however, quicker, warmer. As he plunged his eyes into the horizon, diluting his premonitions in its distant image. Reminded of that other reason, to have brought him here, today. For today; just as the couple of days before. It was a bit different, he was driven by another kind of motive. Waiting for someone. That same girl, again.
Above him, the sun tussled its way out of the edge of the overcast sky. Whilst far into the distance, at the lip of the city's shoreline, was its harbor, teeming with the mess of maritime trade. Ships dropping anchor and those set to sail, their blaring horns, every now and then echoing athwart the bay. Violating the sanctity of many a scrapped boat in their eternal sleep, left to decay.
And suddenly, a faint creak brought him back, to then and there. She had come, at last.
Away from him she stood. There was she, for whom he'd been waiting, whom he waited to see, so eagerly. Without a word, the mystery girl showed up, to have a piece of his sanctuary. Sharing the school's rooftop, sharing its silence and the scenic view, and sometimes glances that led nowhere. Left him without a clue—as to her identity. Firing up his curiosity. Whatever in their heads they kept to themselves.
A couple of years his junior, in her appearance quite the feminine kind. She was the type you'd seldom see at a boys only military school. Neither dressed in the cadet's uniform nor that of the staff. The maroon blazer, skirt and knee-high socks were unmistakable though. That of standard high schooler. She did not belong to his world. But she somehow got in. As a matter of fact, he knew he'd seen her somewhere else before, just recently, and more precisely at one of the ground floor offices. Which made him think she perhaps was an intern at his school. He'd seen few of them before, staying for a while but never too long.
Who was she really? He didn't know. But still, he could tell, the girl no doubt enjoyed starting her day off with a smoke at the rooftop.
The farther she gazed into the deep blue, the more frightening and wild the feelings taking over her—the fear of the boundless unknown gave her chills. Before she was freed, and the sense of dread scattered away, at the sight of the lonely fishing boats transpiring out of the vanishing point, out of the abating murkiness of that morning, skidding the ocean waves into the harbor, escorted by trails of scavenging seagulls.
He impulsively studied her movements, as she pulled a pack out of her winter jacket. Cherry picked her cig before it found its way to her mouth. Then at a random moment, a perfect moment, a mild rush of air wafted by, caressing her long brownish hair, curling at the ends in rings, unruly like the autumn winds. Just as a broken sunray flung out of the dissipating clouds, entwining the threads of her cigarette's smoke—the sunlight befalling her half-crown braided hair gave it a tint of rust.
Dusk went smitten with what he had just seen, an enchantress of provocative appeal.
He knew that her presence was as ephemeral as that of the swirls of smoke she was breathing. And that today might as well be the last time he was to see her there, or anywhere. It was about time to say something, anything. Now or never.
Herglance crossed his, and they briefly locked eyes.
