He closed the door upon entering, still feeling tired while his body is urging him to lye down on his bed. Pran sat down, interrupted by occasional coughs that echoed in the silence of his room. He happened to develop a fever as soon as he arrived home.
Umuwi sya upang bisitahin ang pamilya. Ngunit kung susumahin ang pangunahing dahilan, iyon ay ang pag-iwas nya sa mga pangyayaring hindi nya kontrolado. Iniisip nyang ito ang isa sa magandang paraan upang mabura pansamantala sa kanya ang mga bagay na nakakapagpabagabag. Lalo na nitong mga nagdaang pangyayari.
Sa pag-gilid ng mata, hindi agad nagtagal ang pagsubok nyang burahin ang lahat. Sapagkat sumamo sa paningin nya ang gitarang naka display sa gilid ng drawer.
Ito ang luma nyang gitara na matagal nyang itinambak sa kwarto, nakatuon sya doon habang dumadalaw ang maraming alaala nang pagmasdan ito.
Ito ang gamit gamit ni Pran noong gumawa sila ng kanta ni Pat nang magkasama, ito din ang pinatugtug nya noong nagperform ang banda nila ni Pat sa highschool, ito iyong gitarang nagpapaalala sa kanya ng mga nagdaang pagsasama.
He remembered that once in a while before, he used to sing a song for Pat whenever they were both tired, when they had nothing to do, or if there was a special day for them. It was simple yet great, and it made Pran reminisce about their good days. It also drew a simple smile from him, which prompted him to walk over and get his guitar.
It's been some time since he last held and played it, that's why it feels old and new to him as it rested on his lap. The body of the guitar leans slightly against his chest, while his left hand on the fretboard and the other hand attempts to pick the strings.
With a gentle flick of his wrist, he began to strum the opening chords, it produced a crisp, it's as if flashbacks put him back in that time when the sound reminds him of it.
The melody flowed from his fingertips, each note ringing out clearly as he moved through the progression.
Kahit na matagal nya nang hindi napapatugtug ang kanta ay hindi nya parin ito nakalimutan, kabisado nya parin ang akorde nito. 'Our song' , that's what he titled the song.
Initially, he only intended to play the tune, but before he knew it, he began to sing along. His voice, a bit husky with intermittent pauses, carried a reflective and nostalgic tone, tinged with longing.
🎵🎶 "If our love were a song,
If our story were written to be sung,
What kind of music do you think our love would be?
Maybe love is like a beautiful world,
Something great,
Like the sky, a mountain
The sea, or like brightness?
Now I finally realize
What my love is all about
It's something small that I can't live without" 🎵🎶
When it's time for the chorus part, he was distracted by the weird rustling outside his window. His fingers stopped playing the strings as his attention converted.
Setting the guitar aside, he was curious about the source of the noise outside, which sounded like something being dropped, bumped, or thrown nearby. Though it didn't hit his window, it was clearly audible from inside.
He went to inspect it. He reached out and pulled the curtains to open the window. Pran leaned closer, sticking out his head to take a closer look. However, he didn't notice anything amiss; there was no one on the adjacent balcony, and the windows there were closed, preventing him from seeing if anyone was outside. It seemed unlikely that the noise was simply caused by rustling leaves.
YOU ARE READING
Behind those lies
Lãng mạnSecrets was already tangled in their palm as Pat and Pran decides to face the reality between the undying rivalry of their parents. Their relationship was forbidden and it will only make everything worse if it continues. That's why they went back ho...
