"Hey, Ruben?"Awry, he shot me a glance.
"...Will you keep in touch, even after you move?"
Half-considering this he coincides, "I'll try my best,"
"Always."
His response was anything but half-relieving, as a million different questions hindered themselves within my brain.
All except one.
"And, one other thing...?" I said, holding my tongue.
Almost automatically he replied, "What's up?" in an upbeat-tone. His voice, speckled with concern, became evident beneath his wavering curiosity.
. . .
"...Oscar?"
"...Do you think we'll grow apart someday?"
Riddle me this. Wherever in your heart was the last time you fell victim into the arms of a transcendent love with the son of active militants - only to revoke those feelings to the ends of Tartarus if it all meant concealing the pain-riveting truth?
The son of whom - like all children born with loving parents pursuing their heated desires for their country - are dragged along until the day they move on from this brief little chapter of their lives...?
Even if it meant that darling boy's chapter was... by a single slip of kindness... entwined to yours?
I'm Oscarine.
Oscarine Borealis.
My friends... well, if there were any left after the boundary-changes, call me Oscar.
How did my incorrigible life ever condition itself to a boy I met in the eighth grade?
YOU ARE READING
Swept
Fantasia"Tell me something I don't know." ✍️ All his life, Oscar Borealis has been left with nothing but empty promises. His fate; interwoven with heartache, the family business, a kickass parasol, and an undying passion for Wonder; the magic of this world...