𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃

07

Song:
reflections- the neighbourhood
slowed

LEENA

The soft crunch of the grass below me fills the silence on my journey to the small playground located in the park.

It was peaceful. There seemed to be no one around during this time and a smile appears on my face at the thought of having the entire playground to myself.

Mentally, I was still a five year old little girl who found joy in swing sets and slides.

However, my smile faded at the sight of a figure in the distance on one of the swings. It was hard to see from where I stood, but the person appeared to be busy on their phone, not yet noticing my presence.

Unfortunately, I was curious. My brain was telling me to leave but my heart was telling me to stay. And like the dumb person I was, I listened to the latter.

Moves like this would get me killed in a thriller movie. I'd definitely be the first to die.

Did I care? No, no I did not.

My feet move on their own towards the swing set, my attention focused on the lone figure.

As I get closer, I finally catch sight of the person's face that is illuminated by their phone screen.

"Angel?" His name escapes my lips as a soft whisper.

He was the last person that I expected to be here. I try to cover the shock on my face with a look of indifference. Although, my attempts fail miserably.

His head lifts up at the sound of my voice and his eyes move towards my direction before his gaze lands on me.

I hated that look he gave me. It was intense, an intensity that made me uncomfortable. He said no words but he didn't have to, his eyes did the job for him.

It was weird how I hated it yet loved it at the same time.

Taking his silence as a sign to proceed, I make my way closer, his eyes never once leaving mine. Eventually, I come to a halt in front of him.

"What are you doing here?" The question lingers in the air for a moment, and I notice his gaze trail down my form before it trails back up to meet mine.

I so desperately wanted to know what he was thinking, what types of thoughts he was having in his head. It was another thing I hated—how I couldn't read him.

If he was a book, his contents would be ancient manuscripts, ones that I couldn't understand. Ones that I couldn't interpret. For the life of me, I wanted to know.

However, the look in his eyes put a stop to my thoughts.

He looked sad. Really, really sad. But before I could question it, that all familiar stoic look covers it up.

"Wanted to get out of the house," he says, his voice low and deep. He shuts off his phone before slipping it into his back pocket.

I nod wordlessly. It was best not to ask any questions. That didn't mean that I didn't want to, though. For his sake, I keep my mouth shut.