The eyes show what the lips can't tell.
There's an unmistakable gleam in their eyes when someone is truly in love, a spark that they may not be consciously aware of. Experience and intuition have taught me to recognize emotions beyond what can be expressed in words alone. I know when someone's in pain. I know when someone's genuinely happy. I know when someone loves. Words may struggle to articulate those feelings, but the truth mirrors in the depths of one's gaze, where the real story unfolds.
I watched Sofia from a distance as she played volleyball with her friends. Her movements fluid and graceful, yet somehow defying expectations as she darted across the court with unexpected agility.
I stared at her face, captivated by her every expression. Every smile, every laugh, the way her eyebrows would furrow as she concentrated on the game. Her hair cascaded down her back in gentle waves, occasionally sticking to the sweat on her skin as she darted across the court. Every now and then, she would brush it away from her face with a quick, practiced flick of her hand, keeping it out of her eyes for a few moments before it inevitably fell back into place, framing her face with a messy halo.
Sofia was an enigma, a mystery I could never fully figure out. She's like a book in a different language. Something I never learned. Some days, I could read her, understanding her emotions and intentions with a simple glance. But on other days, it was as if she was shielded by a wall, her thoughts and feelings a complete mystery to me. I would watch her, trying to decipher her thoughts through her actions, but it was a futile effort, leaving me feeling frustrated and intrigued in equal measure.
Despite her confusing nature, there was one thing I was absolutely certain of - the way she looked at me, the way she noticed me in a crowded room, the way she grabbed my hand without hesitation when we were running together, and most importantly, the way her eyes sparkled with warmth whenever they found mine. Those subtle cues, the tiny details in her behavior, spoke volumes about her feelings, even if she struggled to express them in words.
Paanong wala lang iyon?
As I sat on the bleachers, doing nothing, my eyes caught sight of Sage as she walked over and placed her bag down. She rummaged through it and pulled out a badminton racket, its grip worn from countless hours of use. I couldn't help but watch as she adjusted her grip and did a few practice swings, her movements smooth and precise, hinting at her level of expertise.
Sage's hair was tied up in a half-up, half-down style, with a few loose strands framing her face. Her expression was serious, her eyebrows pinched together in concentration as she focused on warming up. Each swing of her racket sent it flying through the air in quick, precise motions, every movement exuding confidence and authority.
Napansin ko ang white bandage na nakapulupot sa kaniyang siko.
Hindi ko maiwasang ma-guilty sa nangyari. Hindi pa rin ako nakakapag-sorry after ng ginawa ko sa kaniya. Nahihiya na nga akong lapitan siya, eh. Pero mas nakakahiya naman kung hindi ako mag-sorry 'di ba?
I attempted a discreet cough to catch Sage's attention, but she was so engrossed in her warmup routine with her racket that she didn't even notice.
Umubo ulit ako ng isang beses habang naglakad papalapit sa kaniya.
She continued to swing her racket through the air, her movements quick and efficient, her expression focused and determined.
"EHEEEM!" I made a weird sound, making my cough louder and a little longer.
Pero hindi ko inaasahan ang susunod na nangyari. Without warning, Sage swung her badminton racket widely.
"ARAY!"
