Hands pressed together against his forehead, "Ren! I'm beggin' here!"
"Why not ask someone who's actually a girl?"
"What girl would say 'yes'?"
"But why me of all people?"
"Oh, that's easy! 'Cause you're cute," his brightly smiling face had no doubt in what he said.
His words were so embarrassing, but my face can't help but heat at them.
"Ren?" He lowered his head to meet my gaze, way to make it worse.
Excuses, "I-I don't have any clot-"
"Ah! That's why I bought this!" He held out the bag that sat beside his leg: I took it, "Oh and," he dug around in his pockets: tongue poking out and right eye shut as he searched, "wear this."
A small, silver ring sat on his palm; my eyebrows furrowed.
"To make it seem more legit." What. "I don't mean as engagement! It's one of those couple rings, so I'll have my own, and it'll seem more believable..." He scratched at his neck.
I took the ring also. It fitted my ring finger and only my ring finger. He gives a sheepish look.
"So... Tomorrow?" I nod and he turns to leave, before turning back again and yelling, "Oh! Just so you know, I said your name was Renka! See you then, lotus flower*!"
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The moment I arrived home, I shut myself in my room and examined the contents of the bag. It contained a well-coordinated outfit: coloured in pastels. A particular item didn't sit well, however.
Flipping open my phone, I dialled his number. He picked up before the second ring, "Did you see it?"
He was too excited for his own good, "I did. But why a skirt? No matter what people say, I'm still a guy."
He hummed through the speaker, "I couldn't find anything that would match otherwise. Besides! I'd think it'll look good on you!"
There he goes again. And there goes my face. Abort!
A farewell and my phone claps shut; I sigh.
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Tomorrow came faster than I hoped for: I awoke to my phone signalling that I'd received a text:
Mornin' lotus flower! (⌒ω⌒)ノ
You're still comin', right? ('。• ᵕ •。')
Get back as soon as you can! ~( ' ▽ ' )~
So I replied in kind:
Morning ( - ω - )
Yup, still coming (*^▽^*)
See you soon! (⌒ᵕ ⌒)☆
...I need to stop doing these things.
The outfit he picked fit: perfectly so. It was also surprisingly comfortable, if embarrassing. I didn't know which was more unsettling: the amount of thought he put in or the fact that he knew my exact size.
As I exit the house I thanked all the powerful entities that my parents were out. I also thanked them that his house was within walking distance and I didn't need to take the train: I have enough problems dressed as a boy.
YOU ARE READING
My Lonely Pathos
PoetryA series of poems, songs and whatever else is screaming in my mind. Pathos isn't something that comes to me, but when it does, it's written down and shared for those to see.