"I cannot quite pinpoint the things that made me believe in love. I had long ago forgotten that it exists. But then you came, and all of a sudden I remembered."
-Fate, Allie Santos
He just stands there, his eyes never left mine. "Who are you?" I say, my voice demanding he answers but he didn't. He just stands there smiling at me as if waiting for me to tell him what to do. Smiling at me as if all the desperation in his voice has gone while he waits for me to have his entity sink in as true and not imaginary.
I remain unmoved for about a few minutes but all he did was to stand and watch me. "What do you want?" I asked again this time his eyes fell on the pen I am holding. I followed his gaze and then for some weird moment the pen lit up, it was a faint light, almost nonexistent, but I saw it. It was like magic. And I refuse to believe it ever happened.
I felt a connection in his gaze and I felt my hands writing smoothly on a piece of paper I brought with me.
~~~
He stands there gazing at me with his almond eyes shying the moon as it becomes more radiant than anything else.
"What is your name?" I ask trying not to sound nervous by his presence.
"Aiden." He answers. His voice deep and a little careless. The type of voice that is always present in my daydreams.
"How did you find me?" I ask again but to that he gave no reply.
He walks towards me and sits beside me, his gaze now at the creek in front of us. I can't do much but look at him. Marvel at his presence. He is everything I've ever hoped for. Everything that I've ever dreamed. I wonder what's keeping me?
"How old are you?" I feel his eyes land on mine and I try not to look at him. Afraid that his brown eyes will hold me captive.
"Twenty three," he answers still looking at me.
"What do you mean by me helping you?"
His gaze held mine and slowly it drifted away and lands back in the creek in front of us. "You'll know soon enough," he says.
There was a pause. And then came the question that's been haunting me since I saw him.
"Are you real?" I ask again.
He looks at me, his gaze piercing...
"I am."
~~~
I look at the man now sitting beside me, every word I write he says on cue. "Are you real?" I reach my hand forward to his face and touch him.
BINABASA MO ANG
THE WRITER
FantasyPUBLISHED BY: VIVA PSICOM PUBLISHING CORP There was a pen. And then a story. And then a man. Once lost. Once found. Then lost again. And a girl trying to piece together a story that will break the thin walls separating fiction and reality. "All yo...
