The cold Autumn air jostled the beautiful sunset colored leaves all around. As she walked with a cup of chai in her hand and a note, she felt a melody erupting inside her heart. Like the thrum of guitar strings or the sensual notes of a flute. She tucked the unruly wisps of hair behind her hair and strode with purpose towards the campus gates in front of her.
She didn't know what she was doing there. She didn't know what she would even say. It felt like it was the first time someone had taken an interest in her. In knowing her and her thoughts. It terrified her. She didn't know whether he would even remember her. How would she even find him in such a big campus?
As if some guardian angel heard her, she saw him. There he was, in a grey hoodie with white drawstrings and jeans. He looked exactly the same as that day she saw him in a train. Those eyes, those curls, after building him up like lego blocks over and over in her mind, his actual presence was nothing like the one she imagined so many times. The leaves crunched under her boots as she almost ran towards him.
"Hey." She said, after a few secs of contemplation. He turned around and his eyes widened in recognition. A beat passed, and his lips broke out in the most resplendent smile she had ever seen.
"I was starting to think you hadn't gotten my note. I'm glad you came." He said. His voice felt as warm as the sunrays engulfing them. They walked towards a sort of open restaurant area. The path was covered in little pebbles, with graffiti on the walls and small plastic tables with plastic chairs. They both sat down with little to no distance between the chairs. The sun was almost setting.
As she looked at the orange and purple hues of the sky, she looked back at him. It was impossible to tell what sight took her breath away. Was it the sunset? Or was it him? She couldn't tell. She drank him in for a long time. If he felt his eyes on her, he didn't show.
"Do you think the past changes how you feel about a person?" And there she went, voicing her myriad of endless questions.
"I guess it does. Maybe because the past indicates the person you are or will be in the future." He said off handedly.
"So you think people aren't capable of change?" She asked, her gaze boring into his skull.
"I'm not saying that. I just think that sometimes people change for the worst, instead for the good." He said, matching her gaze this time. He claimed that he would've loved to listen to her, but he didn't seem to ask any questions. Was it lack of interest?
"Do you think the moon is beautiful?" She said, looking up at the faint hint of the moon showing now that the sun was setting.
"Who doesn't?" He said, looking at her direction of gaze.
"The moon has phases. Sometimes it's full, sometimes it's half, sometimes less than half, sometimes more than full. And sometimes.... It disappears. But that doesn't make anyone believe that the moon won't be whole again, right?" She said, wringing her hands together.
"Right." He said, fixing his transparent rimmed glasses.
"Then why don't people believe that just like the moon, people also have phases when they're not themselves or not full, or not completely the person they once were?" She asked, feeling the sudden chill in the atmosphere.
"I don't know. Why?" He asked, confusing marring his brows.
"Because the idea that a person can change is a lot more terrifying than the phases of the moon. The moon has only limited phases, but people... They are ever changing. They go through a series of funerals in their life, where they bury their past selves and make do with what's left of them when something life-changing happens." She said, the cold wind nipping at her skin.
He noticed, and took off his grey hoodie. She hesitated at first, but accepted it as she didn't do well with cold. She almost drowned in his hoodie. It smelled of him. Even his scent radiated warmth. She inhaled his scent, unbeknownst to him.
"How many selves of you have you buried then?" He asked after a while.
"Too many to count." She chuckled. He smiled at her. The cold felt unbearable now as she shivered, despite the added warmth of his hoodie. She rubbed her hands together. He reached out to hold her hands, his fingers wrapped around her palms.
Warm. 𝙎𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢.
It felt like he lit a fire. A burning need. Something divine. And then he let go of her hands again. But she still kept feeling it. Like he had lit her on fire, and there she sat, burning. Burning... burning until her ashes withered away in the cold autumn air.
"Do you think that if a person accepts you wholly and fully, you'd be able to do the same?" She asked. She was both desperate and terrified to hear his answer.
"Depends on whether if I can live with that person." He said. She fell silent. As did he.
There it was again. The cold, crooked claws of his silence digging into her chest. She looked at him, over and over. He beamed like the morning sun. And she would've given up everything to be his Icarus.
