Undercover Blue Riot (Transmigration)

Sign 9 Hopeless Romantic

Cyril sat inside the dark with a torch, looking into a book, "His face was red as he stood across that dimly lit room. The translucent curtains flowing in the cool summer breeze made him look almost ethereal. I never knew I could be close to love like this. His skin smells like light, and he has tiny freckles on his cheeks, he seems to glow. I think, he is the moon," Cyril read as turned the page as he's curled up, his toes curling in through his socks, his heterochromatic eyes rested upon another paragraph, 

"I cherish these small intimacies. His lips brush against my nose, and I reach my hand for his. He felt warm and familiar. Solid and safe. I want to clench his shirt, bury my face on the curves between his neck and never let go.
But when light wakes me up by hitting our face, I wake up alone. You are gone because our love can only live in the dark. Yet, look at how he glows, like he is the moon,"

Cyril looked baffled, "Poor Alex..."
"CYRIL! GET DOWN HERE!"
"Yes, dad!" Cyril kept the book down and covered it among his clothes, with its name peeping through a sheer shirt, "Alex and Julian"

Cyril ran down the stairs and saw his dad in the garden, throwing old books away, "Help me out, young man,"
"Yes, dad," Cyril wore his slippers and walked into the grass, "When did we have so many books? What the fuck is this?" His father picked up a book called, "The prophet"
"Who is reading this blasphemous shit in my house?" 

Cyril's mother looked at him, "Cyril, did you buy that?"
"Well, yes, but just because I like Musilm literature, doesn't mean I'm not Christian anymore,"
"Nonsense, that's how they get you to convert!" He threw the book into the trashbag, "And what is this?" He picked up another book, "The Philosophy of falling in love" He threw it in the trash bag too, "You need to get out of that fuckin' room and go surfboarding with your friends, not read books all day. What the fuck are you, a little girl who reads her bedtime stories to herself?"

"These not bedtimes stories, it's philosophy which explains why love as an emotion even exists in the first place,"
"I don't know, to get babies,"
"You'd be surprised to know, it's not for reproduction alone. Because there's platonic love, that really does not ask anything like that. And classical literature has so many evidence about it like if you read Odessey, you'd-"
"Shut up and clean this up, you cunt. Stop wasting your time reading bullshit!"

"It's not bullshit, dad! People worked their entire life to find answers to these questions for thousands of years, literature has been a legacy that defines humanity and purpose in the greater arrangement of things, Hindu mythology believes that we-"

"Cyril, we need to get you out of this vicious circle of obsessive reading,"
"What?"
"No more reading anymore. If I find any book in this house, I will burn it with you, you get me?"
"But I love reading!"
"I DON'T CARE! FIND OTHER THINGS TO LOVE! ANYTHING THAT DOESN'T MAKE YOU SEEM LIKE A FUCKING FAGGOT THAT GETS BULLIED BY EVERY SHIT KID HE MEETS!"
Cyril looked down, "You're going to the beach from tomorrow. Spend this summer learning how to surf. Now help me take this trash out, the garbage truck would be here,"

"...Please don't throw these away,"
He narrowed his green eyes at him. The garbage truck went away with its back full of two trash bags of books. Cyril lay on his bed, looking at his closet. He got up and opened the closet's door, closing it behind him. He opened the book he was reading that morning and turned on the torch. 

"Yet, look at how he glows, like he is the moon. I am glad we have only one moon because if we had two, I'd have to pick a favourite..." Cyril giggled, "I would totally emotionally combust"
As sweet music played on his earphones, he danced across his room in his lavender-blue pyjamas, the moon shone across the window and the white curtains did flow too! Oh it's just wonderful to exist. Just music, peace and no one is expecting anything of you, you are unseen by all. The gods turn away and the air is fresher and the cold water tastes clearer and it's like...Like you are the only one who exists. All these dancing flowers, it's wonderful. 

The next morning, sunlight hit his face like golden, sunlit honey. He walked to the beach with Edgar and Skyler, "Your dad even has a problem with you reading? What the fuck? That man has some screws loose, for real," Edgar pressed his palms behind his head while Skyler held his surfboard for him.
"Nothing can stop me from completing 'Alex and Julian'!" Cyril said, "I'll finish it in the closet!"

"You're such a hopeless romantic," Edgar laughed.
"That's my emotional support, unrealistic romantic daydream," Cyril shrugged.
"A romantic who can't fall in love,"
"I can. In fact, anybody can fall in love with anybody whether it's romantically or not and I think people forget that," Cyril smiled, "I think falling in love is just...knowing that a person heightens your senses of happiness so much that you know you'd be empty without them..."

"Yes yes, Mr philosopher. Write a book already, damn,"

"OH, THE BEACH! THE BEACH!" Edgar yelled and took his surfboard from Skyler, "YO ALVER! NIGGA, YOU STARTED SURFING WITHOUT ME?! YOU BLOODY WANKER!"
Skyler and Cyril just sat on the rocks, staring at Edgar surf with his other friends. Skyler soon fell asleep and Cyril smiled as he brushed his hair.

"You don't surf, mate?"
Cyril looked up and saw a tallboy. He had a lean body and a red face. His hair was wet and he wore a surf suit. His eyes looked like the sun, just a bit darker. He had tiny water droplets all over his skin, his hair has sand all over them, shining like glitter over his scalp. 
"...Are you a merman?"
"WHAT?!" He burst into laughter, "Oh my God, that's the loveliest compliment I've ever gotten, thank you,"

Cyril was pretty taken aback, "You look like a tiny Greek god!"
"What's that?"
"Greek gods are the gods that existed in ancient Greek's pagan culture,"
He laughed, delightfully. Cyril laughed with him while Skyler slowly fell back into the moss and continued sleeping.

"Well then, where can I find more about these gods?" He asked as he looked down at Cyril.
"Books! Oh! Oh! I can recommend you some. You ought to read Homeric poetry!"
"Yes, I really do," He smiled at Cyril and Cyril flustered, "Erm, yes, I'm just passionate about literature,"

"Quite an academic, I can see that. Well, now if I may say that I'm passionate about surfing, I'm afraid I might certainly sound quite silly,"
"Oh, not at all! It sounds silly...but if it makes you glad to be alive, it's not silly. It's your thing," Cyril smiled and he smiled back at him, "Very right,"

They laughed awkwardly as the sun lit up their smiles, "I love the way you think, it's highly attractive,"
"Well, I don't look like a Greek god, so I might as well have some severely unnecessary information at the back of my sleeves at all times,"
"I don't know what a Greek god looks like, but," He leaned towards Cyril, almost brushing his nose against his, "You look like someone I would worship if I was religious," He smiled. Cyril almost forgot to breathe, but when he felt his breath again on his, he wondered, if this is what Alex meant when he said Julian smelt like light.

He got up and jumped down the rocks with his surfboard, "Where's your surfing gear?!" One of his friends asked him as he walked beside them,
"I didn't wear it today, it's hot!"
Cyril slowly looked at him as he walked towards the ocean, just watching him surf, his face felt hot and he dug it into his pink knees. Cyril shook his head, "Brace yourself, Cyril! You're not a hopeless romantic! Brace yourself!"

-To be continued

Cyril Edwards 
Undercover Blue Riot

[Author's Note:
Happy new year, guys! Spent my entire new year's eve writing this and I don't regret it one bit. Hope this coming year finds you in peace and brings you joy. Let's talk about literature and art just like this throughout this year, make our dreams run deep like the ocean and constantly escape from the society that constricts our body because they can't constrict our minds. So let's retaliate by spreading our minds, spitting knowledge and bleeding elegance]