───𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘.

A Poet and a Painter Pt.3 [Nihachu]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Seasons transitioned; the spring rolled into summer and brought with it more relentless nights. The later sunsets, the beauty of the gleam of the sun that spilt its luxurious rays over rolling hills and made her skin glow more; the remnants of a weakly winter washed away by the golden generosity of the sun's shine. You'd made sure to capture such changes; daily sketches of the scenery now seemed empty if they were lacking of his unaware figure.

In a similar way, you'd seemed to weave your way into her works the way autumn weaved its way into summer with subtle changes of leaf colours and the gentle breezes that prompted her to wear a scarf nowadays in the evenings. The way the sun wasn't as kindly anymore; the increasing occurrences you'd wind up sat next to her on a bench because "it had rained and the grass was too wet to sit on now."

And soon, winter had crept its way into the crevices of autumn. The snow never seemed to fall the same way each year, and the cold never seemed to settle in her neck in the same place. Yet each drull piece she wrote on the dullness of winter was conducted with a dulcet tone that had snuck its way into her writing on the day she'd first met you.

Though the words exchanged were scarce, she enjoyed your company the way she enjoyed nestling up beside the fire on a freezing winter's day with her hands nursing a cup of cocoa.

The temperatures dropped the way a countdown does; slowly, slowly, then suddenly you have five seconds to spare until some life-changing moment and there's no time to make a decision.

She let out a breathy sigh as she leaned against the park bench. Her notebook sat in her lap, and her hazel brown eyes were too busy flitting from one star to another, playing a game of join-the-dots as she awaited your arrival. You were running later than usual - or perhaps it was the way winter had the uncanny ability of fooling everyone into believing it was later than it was.

"I'm sorry I'm late!" your voice approached her figure, out-of-breath yet content all the same.

"It's alright," she sat up, an expectant half-smile gracing her features, "you're not that late,"

"Alright," you took a seat next to her, sketchbook resting on your lap, "the snow's pretty today."

"Yeah, it is. Heavier than usual" she chuckled lightly.

"I had to run, do you know how difficult running is in snow?"

she laughed at that, a picture of you running around in the snow desperately flickering into her mind. You raised an eyebrow expectantly, to which she just shook her head.

"Anyway," she said, her tone adopting a more serious colour as she turned to face you, "I don't think we'll be able to meet here as frequently anymore."

"Of course," you said, your tone not surprised in the least.

"Let's meet again," she muttered in a meek voice , as if she's scared to ask 

You nodded your head adamantly, "of course."

"How many 'of course's do we have to say?"

"Well,  maybe 'of course' will be our always,"

she let out a faint laugh that trailed off into a trickle of laughter riddled with coughs. Patting her back gently, you racked your brain for that one quote you remembered from your summertime together. She'd somewhat insisted that you read with her, and you found yourselves lazing around and wasting entire days reading poems.

Though her favourite was always Dante.

That was it.

"Well, we can, as the nice poet said, come forth and rebehold the stars once more in spring, can we not?"

She chuckled heartfully "You make it sound like we're going into hibernation"

"Well, aren't we?"

"Pfft, I wish,"

They said it was the coldest winter on record.

Trees were blanketed with ice even in February, grass covered with snow as though a day hadn't passed since the 5th of December, wherein you'd both promised, in some sort of roundabout manner to meet once more. To rebehold the stars, or whatever.

You just didn't think you'd meet again before spring came.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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I run out of breath

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