Apollo

one.

In a single moment, everything can fall into place. I'm sure if it was when I stepped into this building today, or when I stopped to look at this painting in front of me. Or maybe even before that. When the sun rose and I woke up, when I held my hands to meet the light of the sun. But I felt it, that faint flicker of hope left in me manifest. Either through 'Apollo' or through the man who never left my side since the moment he uttered the word 'beautiful.'

I debated on whether to turn to him and start a conversation or leave us as it is. I decided the latter was the better choice since I wouldn't know what to say anyway. If I asked for his name, it might come off as intrusive and scare him off. Or he might think I'm friendly and actually answer me. But what then?

I decided to continue on to another painting leaving him behind making myself suffer the fact that I missed my chance at something and will remember him as nothing more than just a blur.

I passed by a few other paintings, all of which I have already seen at least three times. I moved through the gallery in a leisurely pace making sure I don't overlook. And when I have seen enough, I decided to sit on a bench in the middle to rest and think before I walk home.

I was sure I was done for the day when I felt a sudden tug and the next thing I knew, I was walking towards the corner where 'Apollo' was. From a distance, I noticed a detail in the painting that moments ago, I thought was only a trick of the light. Just beside the woman was a phantasm of a man walking the thin line of fantasy and reality. He was barely there.

Intrigued, I moved towards the painting in slightly rushed steps. I didn't know if I was going too fast or it was my focused attention on the painting alone and nothing else that caused me bumping shoulders with another person. The impact made me lose my focus. I turned to the man with apologetic eyes repeating the words 'I'm sorry' in a nervous tone.

"Calm down, it's fine." the man said with a light chuckle.

When I heard his voice, I stopped talking. I thought it sounded familiar but I couldn't quite put my mind to it. Something about it reminded me of some distant memory.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I did not even realize I was totally spacing out. If it wasn't for the snapping of his fingers or the teasing chuckle, I would have stared longer looking like a fool. "What was that again?" I asked.

"You're the one from a while ago, aren't you?" he asked.

For moments, I was confused. "Oh! Yes, yes. The Apollo painting? That was you?" But how could one forget an encounter in front of a painting?

And that's when it dawned on me. Of course, the words 'beautiful, isn't it?' echoed in my mind. That voice was his. However even when I have figured it out, there's still that feeling of a distant familiarity, something so far that I can't seem to grasp.

"I was about to ask you your thoughts about it, but you walked away," he said with a careful tone.

At least a second of silence passed before I had the courage to speak. I didn't know what to say, how to say it or if I should even say anything but despite it, I spoke anyway.

"You should've asked right away." I laughed. "That few moments of silence didn't really encourage me to stay." I continued.

"Perhaps, I should've." He gave me a smile. "But I didn't, so maybe we can talk about it over coffee?"

I was so taken aback by his subtle aggressiveness that I couldn't give an answer. I was too shocked to react or say a word. All I could give him was my astonished expression.

He seems to have regretted his words as his small smile turned upside down.

"Sorry, was I too direct?" The smile returned to his face but this time, it was doubtful. "But I was serious. About the coffee? Of course that is only if you would want to." He continued.