These Lavender Petals | Semi Eita

one

The only sound of our shoes dragging against the dry pavement filled the silent air. Our breathings slightly haggard from the heat and the sloped hill.

It was scorching hot, proving it's point that it is indeed summer and neither of us had the energy to blather.

I let out a frustrated groan as I wiped the beads of sweat forming on my forehead, my sleeves drenched in sweat from the amount of times I've repeated the damned action.

From the corner of my eyes, I could see Semi Eita's shit-eating grin appearing on his appealing face as he observed my suffering state.

"Why didn't you bring your portable fan?" He teased, brushing his shoulders against mine playfully.

I glared at him, his molten orbs reminding me of milk chocolate, but that sweet ecstasy of being lost in his eyes was ruined from the glint of mischief swirling in them. My eyebrows drew in together in annoyance.

I had dropped my portable fan when we were walking home a day earlier and he claimed it was my fault.

Well, it was my fault. But he didn't have to grab my hand so suddenly. Of course I'd drop it!

He's oblivious to the attraction I harbored for him. Maybe he liked me too, because I hadn't coughed up any petals or had any symptoms of the disease.

Which drove me into having high hopes.

Silly.

"Eita. You knew it was you!" I raised my hand to inflict a punch on him, only for him to wrap his hand around my wrist and halting my movements.

He tugged me towards him gently, linking our fingers together with minimal effort, as if he's done it a thousand times, which he did.

Our bodies are so close to each other, if I had leaned forward a little I would've touch him.

"Ah, ah, ah." He tutted smugly. "See? Your aggression always bring you misfortune." His warm breath fanned my face, as if my face wasn't already hot enough.

Heat rushed to my cheek, from both the close proximity of our faces and the sun. For sure.

I drew my hands away from his grip before brushing past him hastily, hoping he didn't catch the sight of my flushed cheeks.

How could he do that so carelessly.

Eita caught up to me in matter of seconds, chuckling at how I'm avoiding to meet his gaze, feigning anger to hide whatever emotions that were crawling up my throat.

"What did you bring for lunch-"

A sudden sound of aggressive coughing caught our attention. Our heads snapped towards the source, to see a ginger-headed boy hunched over across the street. He was coughing up yellow daffodils, blood splattering all around him.

His friend was aiding him, patting his back gently. He was helpless, only being able to stare at his friend in sorrow.

We watched in silence for a moment, before Eita interjected the gloomy mood.

"Seriously... just get it removed." Eita mumbled, annoyed as he sauntered away.

I elbowed him on the side when I caught up to him, knocking the breath out of him. He gripped his ribs from the sudden impact, face contorting painfully.

Those scenes weren't rare, in fact they're so common that there are specific trash cans almost everywhere made purposely for the disposal of petals.

"Don't say that, Eita." My eyebrows drew in together at his lack of empathy. "You can't say that..."