At a young age of eighteen, New was living the life of a teenage boy diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. With his life hanging by a thread, he realized that it was too short to be spent on memories that will only result in melancholy, and so he chose...
"No, I'm full already." , he said in a straight face. However, his stomach growled in disapproval right after he declined my offer.
"The guy down there must not be feeling the same way as you do." , I said as I looked down. It was too late when I processed the words I said as he was already in shock from my words.
"Hey I didn't mean THAT guy. I meant your stomach!" , I quickly replied before he could even say a thing. My face was already red from the embarrassment that I couldn't look at him.
He walked away again without a word and turned right into alley, disappearing from the crowd. I thought for a second that he had already left, so I tidied myself and started my commute. I was already a few blocks away from the school when I heard a loud beep from behind me. When I turned around, a motorcycle was headed my way. When it stopped in front of me, the driver removed his helmet and revealed himself as Tawan, holding another helmet on his one hand.
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"I thought you said we were gonna go grab food?"
I smiled at the man in front of me. I took the helmet on and put it on my head, but I couldn't do it. It was my first time riding a motorcycle so I had zero knowledge of how to wear a helmet. It took me a while to put it on, and in the end Tawan had to help me do it.
"Lean a little closer to me."
I leaned my head close enough for him to appropriately wear the helmet on me. His face the same level as mine, only a few inches apart. I could smell the faint odor of menthol as he breathed every now and then, and his stubble became more noticeable now that we're only inches apart. I gulped at the close up look of his face. It looked so dashing, and I don't think I'll ever stop from getting mini heart attacks every time I see his face.
"Done."
I hopped on to the motorcycle and positioned my feet comfortably. Now that I'm seated, I felt so uneasy that the motorcycle only had two wheels. It felt so unbalanced, like I would fly off the vehicle when it starts. My uneasiness might've seen so obvious that Tawan reached for my hand and placed it on his stomach. He grabbed the other one and did the same, then roared his motorcycle to life.
"Hang tightly onto me, and don't let go."
When we started moving, I felt a little queasy that my grip on Tawan's body grew tighter. I leaned closer to him, my chest touching his broad back. The motorcycle picked up a pace and moved faster, so fast that the imagery around me started to distort. As the wind met my skin, I felt a tingling sensation that sent a whole new kind of feeling. I felt like I was flying.
Every second lasted like an hour as I became comfortable resting my body on Tawan's back. Unlike the cycle, his back felt more sturdy, like a stalwart wall that offers me the sense of protection in the middle of my weariness. As my hands grew tighter around his waist, I felt how hard his abs were. It wasn't really rock hard, but I felt how toned his body was. In that moment, I had never felt safer than anywhere else.
My mind was so busy trying to savor every second that I spend behind his back that it did not immediately hit me that we had reached our destination.
