Where Lost Things Go | ✓

【拾捌】DELICATE CONFESSIONS

chapter 18.
delicate confessions

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"WHY DID YOU decide to do pre-med?"

They were at the park again, lying on the grass at the top of the hill. The full moon seemed to stare down at them, chasing away any darkness that tried to interfere.

"I want to become a doctor and help people," Asher said simply, holding up a flower petal that had fallen. "My grandfather passed away from lung cancer when I was little and that really fucked up six year old me."

Reagan closed her eyes.

"I just want to save lives," he said. "That's all."

Reagan admired that Asher had dreams. She had spent too long running from dreams that never chased her.

"You know," she said. "I read somewhere that people become doctors for one of two reasons."

Asher nodded for her to continue.

"They either have some personal connection to trauma, and want to spend their lives healing others, or they're drawn in by pure, cold, academic interest in said trauma, no matter how merciless it is." She looked over at Asher's innocence. "I'm glad you're the first one."

Her mother had been the latter. A doctor who understood human emotions like it was a formula. She'd learned long ago that unfeeling doctors like that were the cruelest of them all.

"You're going to save so many people some day," Reagan said, her voice wistful and nostalgic.

Her words floated against the Spring winds, drifting to Asher's ears and down to his heart. She had spoken so softly, everything around him paused for a moment to listen.

Something was trying to tear out of his chest.

"I think I love you," he said suddenly.

The night stars blinked. Even the wind seemed to still. With every passing second that his delicate confession hung in the air, the moon seemed to shrink. 

Asher realized it was his heart trying to leap out of his chest.

But then Reagan disrupted the silence with a hearty laugh. "Asher," she said between breaths. "What makes you think that?"

"I don't know," he said, catching his breath between his words. "I just think about you all the time. I want to be with you all the time. Even when you're angry. I hate it when you cry. I love your smile. Your true smile. My heart races whenever you smile at me like that, and when you say things like that - well I might as well lose it. You're just on my mind. All the time. Isn't that what love is?"

Reagan hummed, enjoying how his words filled the night. His words were always so simple, but somehow they always made her heart twist.

"If that's how we're defining it," she said, knowing full well the weight her next words held. "I think I love you, too." Her confession danced into the air, gingerly taking a seat beside his.

Asher immediately pushed himself up to lean on his side and looked down at her. He just stared at her for a few moments, those dark eyes boring into hers, revealing every drop of emotion he was feeling. He stared and he stared and he stared, his eyes filled with light disbelief mixed with some kind of admiration.

She stared back, even though it was getting difficult to keep her breathing shallow.

There was a warmth in her eyes.

After a few moments, Asher lay back down on his back. He drummed his fingers against his chest, trying to calm his racing heart.

"So you think about me all the time?"

Reagan laughed, "On occasion."

"Good enough for me."

He scooted himself closer to her so that their arms were touching. When he laced their fingers together, she did not complain. She let herself explore the feeling of someone's touch.

The touch of someone who dreamt about her. Someone who cared for her. Someone who wanted her.

Someone who loved her.