❝ Caught in the never ending game of life, how do I steer across the sea without any hand? ❞
❝ Take my hand. ❞
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
in which,
a girl finds
herself
...
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That feeling you get when you realize that someone out there is ready to risk their own life to save yours is incomparable.
We can keep cycling through a single day, two people pushing the rusty pedals to journey through life and write the textbook of our world. But that binder is only successful when you choose the right person to push the right pedal.
And I hope my choice will be a diamond in the dark skies.
— ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ —
"Daijoubu, Serena-chan?"
His brows were knitted together, a blazing worry unsettling in those amber eyes. The boy set and loosened his jaws before giving a small smile. I returned the gesture.
"Hai, Ash-kun. Just wondering how daffodils look."
His mouth turned into a perfect 'o' before he smacked his head and bolted to his feet.
Welcome, cold air, my friend dear.
"I could show you some!" he piped up, his mouth upturning into a strange toothy grin that had my insides upside down. I forced myself to continue when he didn't budge.
"And stars? How do they look?"
For some bizarre reason, he turned red. Ash-kun. Ash-kun blushed. "I-I'll show you the stars of the world too."
"Is there..." I started, casting him a furtive look when he scratched his cheeks. "Is there any other stars?"
If it were humanly possible, he would have turned beet red. "E-er, yeah."
"Really? Really? Really, Ash-kun?"
The boy nodded, and a heartbeat passed before he spoke in his deep, throaty voice. "Yeah, but it's more like a — a metaphor that people use when they admire someone.
"You see, the stars are so mysterious and alluring. Their enigmatic sparkle draws several people to call themselves nyctophiles.
"Similarly, when somebody admires someone, they'd say that the person they admire is a star in their sky."
"Oh," I gasped, letting the confession sink in. He hummed as the gentle breeze ruffled his hair, tugging at each strand to make it shine with the sun's clinquant rays. "Do you h-have those?"
The boy's eyes widened. When he spoke out a breathless whisper, I saw his expression scrunch as if it pained him to confess, "Yes."
"Mhm?"
"A quiescent soul. It's a saudade, really. This feeling. This is so perfect, this feeling is, but at the same time—" He spun on his heels, striking brows piercing through my walls. My breath hitched. It felt like a sweven, taken out of nowhere.
