A Freesia on My Doorstep - TO BE PUBLISHED UNDER PAPERINK IMPRINTS

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SIX

Purple Larkspur: First Love

WHEN DALFON FINALLY calmed down, Egan brought him inside his house and assisted him on a couch.

With thorough concentration, Egan was able to pick up a glass from his kitchen and fill it with water.

"Why?" Dalfon asked after drinking. "Why do you care about me? Why do you leave a freesia on my doorstep?"

Egan's answer was simple. "You remind me of my first love."

"Do you know his name?"

Egan smiled. "Why did you assume he was a guy?"

"Because of the freesias you give me every day?"

"What about it?"

"A freesia is believed to symbolize unconditional love."

"Do you not love your best friend unconditionally?"

Dalfon fell silent upon hearing the ghost's response. Then, Egan added, "Unconditional love doesn't always pertain to romantic relationships."

"You have a point," agreed Dalfon. "Then, how do I remind you of your first love?"

ONE FINE DAY, an 18-year-old Egan Conley was fetched by the school bus. He took a seat by the window and silently watched the environment speed away outside.

"Good morning!" A female student greeted him as she sat by his side.

"Morning," he thriftily replied, keeping his gaze outside the window.

"Are you done with your essay?"

"Hmm?" Egan turned to her. "How did you know about the essay?"

"We're classmates," she laughed; "Of course, I know!"

"Oh."

"Really?" She was amused. "Everyone knows you but you don't know everyone. The rumors are true."

Egan turned his attention back to the window. "Socializing is not in my forte."

"Quite obvious," she remarked. "Then, let me introduce—"

Her sentence was cut short when Egan shot up from his seat with eyes reflecting fortitude. "HIT THE BRAKES!"

"What? Who shouted?"

"What's going on?"

"Was that Conley?"

Different side comments were heard on the school bus but Egan's introverted personality wasn't bothered. His focus was on the sight in front of the driver.

"BRAKES! NOW!"

The driver did so as Egan's voice echoed with authority. Then, he hopped off the still-moving bus and wasted no time pulling a younger boy away from the pedestrian crossing.

"Whew! That was close." Egan sighed as the school bus came to a halt at the exact spot where he pulled the boy away.

He didn't care whether his senior high uniform got stained from the grass and soil. He asked the boy, "What were you thinking?! Our school bus almost got you!"

The boy showed him a little kitten. "She couldn't keep up with her mother and siblings. . . ."

Egan's agitation died down upon the sight of the feline creature securely wrapped in his arm and hand. He smiled at the boy while his eyes relished on his features: Ivory skin, hazel eyes, and messy brown hair. The boy was attractive.

For the first time in his 18 years of existence, his heart was beating rapidly. And it wasn't because he was nervous speaking in front of people, or because he was shy to talk to one person.

It was because he met this boy; this young boy who was wearing a junior high school uniform.

The next time they met, the boy was in senior high school while Egan was in college. The boy caught a basketball with his head when he stepped in front of a younger male player who had his eyeglasses knocked off his face during a sports fest. Egan did not attend his classes for the whole day, spending his time watching over a sleeping brown-haired boy.

Their third personal meeting was during college enrollment, where Egan was an upcoming third year and the boy was applying as a freshman. Nothing special happened that day, but Egan was beyond joyful when he discovered that the boy would be attending the same college as him.

The fourth time was when Egan was marketing his group's movie project. And lastly . . .

When the third to fifth-year students went on a field trip.

EGAN'S EYES SPARKLED in adoration as he recalled the memories.

Finally, after minutes of silence, he replied to Dalfon's query, "My first love is an amiable, fearless, and self-sacrificing special someone. He was foolish enough to ignore the danger of saving a little kitten brought upon him. He knew a school bus was coming.

"Ever since then, I swore to protect him. He was always doing something reckless. Although he may not remember me, for five years, I watched over him. I was grateful to be part of his life even if he doesn't know it."

"Why five years?" the human curiously asked.

"Because I died." The ghost answered so casually as if his death wasn't a major event. "I died saving him from an unpleasant—not worth recalling—incident."

Dalfon fell silent. Then, he asked, "I do not fit your first love's description. How can you say I remind you of him?"

"I refuse to answer that question," Egan playfully countered.

"Why are you spending your time with me? Wait, is he also dead? You should stay with him in the Afterlife Realm!"

The ghost truthfully answered, "My eternal raindrop is still here in the Living Realm."

"Then, why did you choose to stay as a ghost? You could have resurrected to be with him."

"I'll be too young for him if I did that. The age difference we'll have would suck."

"But you will never be able to rest in peace this way."

"He is my resting place. To be able to watch over him for an additional ten years and another ten more keeps my heart at peace."

A heartfelt thought came across Dalfon. 'To be loved by this pure and genuine man is already a blessing. Fifteen years of unconditional love? I wonder who the lucky guy is.'

Although he was fine with it, he couldn't imagine himself entering a same-sex relationship. He doesn't even care about romance, so, why bother imagining?

Dalfon sighed and got up from his couch. "You should give him your freesias, not me. I am merely a remembrance of your first love."

"Don't think about it." Egan smiled. "I'm giving him freesias as well, anyway."

Now that they stood in front of each other, Dalfon finally noticed that the ghost's height only reached his shoulders.

"You're cute-sized," he remarked while thinking, 'He must have tiptoed when he punched me in the office.'

If only he wasn't a ghost; if only he still had blood, it would have rushed to his cheeks already. But then again, a blushing ghost would be an odd thing to witness.

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