Black Equation - The Gifted Ones

Number Twenty-One

I take one step away but I find myself coming back...

 

Number Twenty-One

It was his eyes.

The whole time he talked, she was staring at those pale blue eyes that seemed a bit too bright compared to the last time she saw them. He seemed sincerely happy, animated, hands moving around like her dad's whenever his favorite major league team wins a game. For a moment, she thought of how harsh and unfair life had been to him that simple things like a full-course dinner would mean so much to him. He smiled widely over mundane things like getting a new toothbrush or having the privilege of playing for an hour every day. He spoke of his memories fondly, like they were what made his stolen childhood a little bit more bearable.

Wasn’t she selfish?

Here, Krad was content simply to be alive, taking nothing for granted, thankful for the little privileges that his life had allowed. How about her? She had never experienced living in such conditions, yet she whined and cried and threw tantrums like a baby. She was loved and protected. Everything she needed and wanted was given to her, handed on a silver platter. What right did she have to be such a brat? Her father and Arashi had merely done what they thought was good for her. She shouldn’t be angry. She should have tried to understand their point of view.

God, she had been shamefully immature.

Would they ever forgive her?

“Do you want to talk about it?” She tore her gaze away from the windows and landed on his face. He looked tired, a little dusty, but his smile could have lit up the whole metropolis, making up for his haggard appearance. “You were suddenly quiet.”

“I’m just thinking.”

“Oh, you had a brain?” She glared at him, and he merely gave her a lopsided grin. “Kidding.”

“Are you always like this?”

“What?”

“You know, nice and joking? I didn’t actually peg you that way. The first time I saw you, you were so serious and scary.”

“I’m nice? It’s been so long since I’ve heard that.” He laughed merrily, but his voice was laced with something she couldn’t pinpoint. “Most of the time, people find me annoying and offensive. Some find me amusing. It’s mostly depends on the person, the situation and his perception.”

“But do you always prepare food to anyone you find crying?”

He smirked. “You’re different.”

“Yes, I'm different."

She fidgeted under his heavy scrutiny.

"Want to elaborate?" he asked after a while.

"It's just that... " She stopped. Why was she explaining herself to him? Why should she trust him? Just because he showed her his soft side, it didn't mean that they were bonded. But she wanted someone to know. She wanted someone to understand. She chewed on her lower lip. "It's just that with my memories gone, I’m an entirely new person. I’m no longer your childhood friend. You shouldn’t act so familiarly with me.”

He shrugged. “I’ll do what I want to. Anything wrong with that?”

She had no answer, so she merely tucked her head low.

“Stop worrying."

"I'm not worrying," she claimed.

"You are, don't deny it."