? Is A Crescent Scythe ( Pt. 3 )

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"Psst... Oscar!"

An illusive voice calls out for your name like a siren deceiving another fool with her precarious opera.

Holding onto every wit, you tell yourself it was just another figment of your imagination.

It wouldn't be the first out of a million times someone shouted your name, respondent of an extraterrestrial Oscar; whose canvas was charismatically more colorful than yours.


Every gut feeling told you this was different.


Not only was his translucent-voice filling you with deja vu - you didn't want to believe they were calling for someone else.


Stowing your fear, you reconvene with the eyes of the voice.





Ruben...?

Pessimism rhapsodized every wit, that I, Oscar Borealis, was being heartedly-invited to sit with someone - by a mere slip of fate

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Pessimism rhapsodized every wit, that I, Oscar Borealis, was being heartedly-invited to sit with someone - by a mere slip of fate.

Miraculous, isn't it?

Persistent as ever, Ruben flashed his braces and waved.

Bewildering heat kindled my ears, as I returned the gesture idly.

Everyone was in their own little world, and I was about to be in his.


Was it too late to turn back? Was this a twisted coincidence...?


Calculating, my paranoia was kindled as I neared the barren-bench, conscious of his touching yet disturbingly welcoming aura. A smile perked his lips as he beamed, "Hey Oscar..! How've you been?"

My initial words flew from my mouth instead of my head. "Hey... Ruben?" I blurted bashfully. I groveled on the inside as I nudged the conversation starter, "How was your Summer...?"

Menial talk.

Yet he smelled so nice...

I wanted to dig my nails into my scalp for ever thinking that.

{ 🎵 Ruben's Theme } - https://soundcloud.com/y4rqhp9jiym8/present

Making mental-note of how I avoided his gaze, I pivoted my eyes from his bewitching stare to the most convenient heads - despite how the dullahan in front didn't even have one.

It became blatantly aware - that you, Oscarine Borealis, couldn't stare into the stunningly attractive eyes of another male for more than five seconds to save your life. You're the exact reason why we've never succeeded in befriending someone, other than a girl.

Aurora would be... well - in my discretion, would scoff it off and sneer, "Try again, Violet."

Before I could conjure one other negative appraisal for how lively this conversation was flowing, Ruben remarked, "Not bad, not bad."

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