Our Little Cherry Blossoms

nineteen. solace

ＭＡＹ (( ＬＡＲＫ ))

His fingers grasped the back of my shirt so desperately, his nose buried into my shoulder so bitterly; and when I thought back to that morning - that moment - I could still feel the warmth of his solaced tears on my skin.

"...ark.....Lark! You listening?"

A bombastic voice exploded next to my ear, jolting me out of my trance as I raised my chin to glance at the girl beside me. Simultaneously, her eyebrows pulled upwards and her head shook slightly, prompting me to say something. For a while I simply stared at the bridge of her freckled nose as her russet orbs flitted between my right and left eyes, a shrouded sort of mischief floundering in her gaze. Tentatively, a smile tugged at the corners of my lips, and soon a series of discreet snickers tumbled out of my throat.

"Not one bit."

I twittered, unable to conceal my jubilation. At last I felt as if everything was okay and I was safe, and it would be fine to be as gleeful as I was. My mind continued to flutter to and fro from that April morning. After the crowd had withdrawn into their classrooms, the boy accompanied me to the nurse, his fathomless gaze glistening translucently whilst his hand had swathed my wrist in a solicitous grip. It was more, so much more than I could've ever asked for. The happiness I felt had sprouted along with spring's first flowers like tendrils, enveloping my chest so tightly I could barely breathe. And every time our fingers met, those frosted tendrils would leap across my heart, the roots of its blossoms reaching so deeply that tears threatened to cascade down my cheeks. Helen then tugged my back into reality once again, sandwiching my palm between both of hers. An impish grin creeped across her face as she gestured to the door of our english classroom.

"Your prince charming's here, lovebird."

My head turned the moment he traipsed through the doorway, backpack hanging low on his shoulders and tanned skin lambent in the fluorescent light. His eyes fluctuated, dark pools rippling slightly before settling on my gaze, the microscopic waves lulling into a soothing silence. The moment seemed to grow longer, imaginary needles knitting a perpetual scarf as I sunk deeper into his eclipsed moons until the yarn was cut by a familiar rambunctious chirrup.

"Case, what are you doing blocking the doorway? Go sit down!"

The boy blinked once, and his pools hardened, casting me a lopsided smile before sauntering to his seat across the room. Our english teacher had rearranged the seating order just before the December holidays, although I remained in my original seat. Next to me, Helen nudged my shoulder and sniggered before stretching her arms out on the table, her chin resting on the hard surface. As the rest of the students trickled in, I peered at them one by one, searching for a face that was never there. Valerie still hasn't come back. Slumping back into my chair, my attention gradually began to dwindle as the class plodded on, my ears muting our teacher's blaring voice to a muffled mumble as I stared at the table. My euphoria, my relief...is it, is it supposed to feel this empty?