Your Song

Chapter Sixty Five | A Moment

I glanced at June's family and saw a boy with his nose in a notebook and a little machine following him around. I furrowed my brow, recalling that June only said that he had Cystic Fibrosis. As far as I was concerned, a small machine following him around wasn't necessary.

June's mom tapped his shoulder when he sat down and he lowered his notebook.

A small chin with slightly feminine features, black hair brushing the back of his neck, even the tubes going into his nose, all of that I looked over the moment I saw his eyes: a glittering bright blue. A beautiful, life-filled blue.

I've seen blue eyes before. Eyes like the sky, like the ocean, like diamonds, and whatever you find in between. But something about his made them seem different.

A certain glint in his eyes.

He turned, likely feeling the sense of being watched, and I turned away. I hear things about people with blue eyes, that it seems like they're staring right into your soul, but his eyes were relaxed. Not tired, but relaxed.

I don't remember much else from the funeral. It hurts to think about whether it were in the moment or looking back at it. Pain lingers like that.

I didn't see June much anymore. Our interactions were confined to a hospital and our worlds outside of it didn't intertwine very often. When they did, it was only for a few seconds and we wouldn't even look in each other's direction at the same time.

It's not that we had anything against each other, we just didn't know what to say. The last we saw of each other was when my dad died. It's also how we met. Thoughts resurface in that sense.

However, whatever she thought, every time I saw her, I didn't think of my dad. Thoughts of my dad can resurface without her. Every time I saw her, I thought of the boy who sat next to her at the funeral with blue, life-filled eyes and a little machine following him at his feet.

Her brother, I assumed.

When I saw her again, this time visiting my house with her mom, he brother was with her.

"Sorry, I just couldn't leave him at home." Her mom apologized. "He's been wheezing and I don't want to leave him alone."

"It's alright." My mom assured. "Y/N, this is Jake. He's June's older brother."

He turned to me from the notebook I saw him holding at the funeral and smiled, bowing his head in greeting.

I bowed in return and hid behind my mom's arm. The little machine he had was dragging behind him again, held by his free hand while he read his notebook like it was a story.

"Y/N, this may take longer than usual, so why don't you bring them to your room?" My mom suggested. "Maybe Jake wants to hang out with Langa?"

I didn't want Jake to hang out with Langa. I wanted him to hang out with me. I wanted to read what was so interesting in his notebook, ask about the machine he dragged along behind him, ask him how his eyes look so full of light.

"I'll be fine with my sister." He said. It was the first time I had heard his voice. It was light and smooth, like he rehearsed his speech before he said it. It wasn't quite deep, wasn't quite high. Hoarse but understandable. "If anything happens, she'll know what to do."

June stared at him for a moment before nodding, a tinge of annoyance on her face that I can't quite describe. Maybe when something goes wrong with his health, it's difficult to make it return to normal.

I led the two to my room and felt my cheeks heat up in embarrassment when I remembered that there were books, clothes, and such in a clutter all around.