Porcelain

"There are alas her eyes; the elixir to soothe my aching heart." -- Rashid

Street Fighter: Porcelain

'Please enjoy the rest of your life.' Words echoed through the vacant hall of his heart's ruins. Amanti's sweet voice sounded so cheerful even in her final hours. Rashid could still hear her voicemail playing in his head over and over again. Her smile was the sun that brightened his world, her voice like the life-giving wind in his lungs, and her presence like the gravity that kept him on solid ground.

...And now all of that was gone. Without the sun his blood ran cold. Without the wind his lungs swelled with fire. Without gravity, his mind was in eternal chaos. His world was over despite the smile he wore to mask away the apocalypse beneath his skin.

The clouds of the night gathered overhead. Rashid was far off from the big city, and instead roamed the open land with his guardian Azam. They set up camp roadside, as Rashid wanted to talk to clear his mind. The world was too beautiful to pass up in a vehicle at all times. Amanti enjoyed walks like that as well. She was so spontaneous that even stopping roadside to run into the fields was common for his adventures with his dear friend. She was always smiling, always free, and it inspired him since the day they met. She never said 'thank you' until it was too late. Her final words were digitally immortalized, and for all the things he'd ever done for her, there was one thank you to cover them all.

The two letter word wasn't really what Rashid wanted to hear. There was a three lettered word that would have meant much more. Perhaps she didn't feel the same way he did for her. It was expected, but if there was any other time to confess it, her last voicemail would have been it.

The clouds turned darker as the light of the sun faded and painted a portrait of orange into light blue over Rashid's contemplative expression. He sat in his tent with the front opened to let the light and air in. Azam had his own tent, mostly due to the fact he needed his privacy to keep up with Butler affairs, but Rashid also needed his own space for a while. He dressed down for the night and was left in his favored white tank top and white pants to sleep in. The ever present scent of insect repellent was all around, thanks to Azam's over-readiness for the open world.

"I shouldn't have kissed her." Rashid said to himself. His conscious forced the words out of his mouth quietly as the moonlight illuminated him. He repeated the words every few seconds, trying to convince himself he was wrong for acting out on what his heart wanted. Amanti looked so surprised after their initial kiss, he remembered. They shared another, but she eventually pulled away from him very gently. At first he was worried about his technique and his facial hair. He'd read on the net that facial hair could make the kissing experience a bit more ticklish for the partner, and that worried him a lot more than his technique. She was nice enough to let him down softly. She proceeded talking as if they hadn't kissed at all. She kept being his friend, she kept being herself, and he never tried to engage again.

That may have been a fatal mistake.

The churning clouds eventually cried with him, though his misty eyes hardly matched the intensity of showers outside of his tent. This wasn't truly a storm, as the winds were entirely calm. This was the world giving the young man permission to feel. It was alright, as Amanti would tell him. With sleep on the horizon, Rashid zipped up his tent for the night, and turned on his phone for his source of light. Minutes rolled by in total silence, until a wrench was thrown into his solace.

The rip and roar of a motorcycle rang out like thunder on the road. However, it came to a sudden stop.

Rashid sat up and placed his phone facedown. His left fist tightened as he gently pulled the zip of his tent to peek outside. He expected an attacker, but instead he saw a slightly familiar face climbing off of her bike. She was attempting to shelter herself from the rain, and walked off the road toward the pair of tents.