Silent Beast | ✓

chapter four .enseignement.

-+- teaching -+-

I never thought my beast

would fall in love

with the mess I was

and what I've taught.

F i v e   s e c o n d s. 

A peck on his cheek lasted five seconds, but his face hadn't slipped my mind every time I closed my eyes for at least two weeks. But it wasn't five days till I finally got a response from Adam.

Hey, wanna go ice skating with me?

No response about his sister or our moment, but it was to go ice skating. My hands shook with fear, my heart pounded with excitement. I hopefully looked at the fan that spun above my head. I was in shock. A mix of everything spun through me, setting off sparks in my mind of all the possible situations. I bounced up onto my feet and leaned against the ledge of my window. Peeking out into the neighborhood ahead of me and a sky of a scheme of blue and white. Everything seemed to be looking up. The five days that had passed without a response or sight of him, broke my heart and left me moping around the house. Even the Pediatric Center couldn't cheer me up.

Sure, meet you at the indoor rink in 20.

I contemplated sending that text for approximately ten minutes. I grabbed ahold of a pen and notepad with a bunch of half-conversations scribbled in it. Running through the door of my house into the atmosphere of humidity just made me regret wearing jeans immediately, but it wasn't long before I reached the entrance of the ice rink and was met with a cold breeze. Gasping for air, I pushed open the door which seemed to heavier than it should be.

There he stood, with his hand buried deep in his pockets. With a beanie that comfortably sat on his head and leaning against the ledge of the skating rink, he could have passed for a model during a photoshoot. Careful not to disturb his deep thoughts, I walked over to the counter and got two pairs of skates for the two of us. With a small sigh, I trudged over to him and pushed the skates towards him. He looked up, startled and scratched the back of his neck. Shaking my hand impatiently, he finally took ahold of the skates and slipped them on. He handed me a note that read:

I don't know how to ice skate...

I looked at him in bewilderment. Why would he choose to ice skate then? Internally groaning, I slipped on my pair of skates and wrapped my arm around his. Entangled in our warmth, I stomped us over to the edge of the rink where I suddenly felt exhilarated. Everything seemed to come to life at the ice rink. Pulling us onto the ice rink, I could feel Adam slip a little, but by the way I gripped his arm, I was never letting him go. Smiling, I skate left, right, left, and just enough to help Adam stay in balance. It wasn't soon before a lace of his caught at the bottom of the skate and cause him to stumble. It wasn't just him that went down. I fell down with him landing on the ground, on all fours. He almost burst out laughing as his face turned a dark shade of red while mine became one of embarrassment. Brushing it off, I picked myself up and crossed my arms over my chest, emphasizing the fact that I wasn't letting him off so easily.

He skated over to me with outstretched arms, hoping to grab onto my for stability. I skated away from him and that's when it started. A game of tag on ice with a guy that said he couldn't ice skate. In almost twenty minutes, he looked like a natural. His blue eyes seemed to be brighter and every smile set my heart aflame. No dimple was left behind as he skated around trying to catch me. Soon he was right behind me and caught me in his arms. Spinning me around so I faced him, a puff of cold air wrapped around us as we breathed heavily. One step to the right and we were off the ice rink and onto the carpeted floor of the ice rink where we took a seat at a generically circular red, plastic table. I pulled out my notepad and pen and wrote:

You liar, you knew how to skate. :)

Smiling, he wrote back:

I'm no liar, just a natural. Anywho, thanks for teaching me.

I've always enjoyed knowing that I could make a good impact on someone's life- even if it meant that they learned how to ice skate from me.

I'm glad I could teach you something as fun as ice skating.

He took my notepad and wrote out a long message that left my mind tangled in its own thoughts:

Ice skating hasn't been the only thing you've taught me. Ever since my sister has been admitted to the hospital for being diagnosed with cancer, I've shut everything out. There was 50% likelihood that she could survive. It was all a balance of good or evil. Like those fairytales you read all the time. Thank you. Thank you for coming into my life and changing it, Belle. You're one in a million.

What else had I taught him? My heart warmed at the thought of being able to change his life, but it didn't answer my question. I taught him to ice skate and I showed him how to cope with his sister's situation. I believed in him.

It's because I believe in you, Adam.

He set my notepad down on the table next to him and reached into one of the many pockets of his navy green, cargo jacket. He handed me a note which exclaimed:

Ever since I set eyes on you

My heart became bait,

Your smile reeled me in, it was my cue.

You've made me wait.

A simple almond shaped face,

With brown eyes that glimmered,

A beautiful smile which was a grace.

My life was captured.

You're like a blueprint

I'm trying to design who you are

But it's like a newsprint.

You're a beautiful story to read.

Every moment spent,

Every touch counts.

I'd like to say

I have fallen for you

I'd like to offer something great,

to the girl who's taught me how to love.

Would you care to join me

for a dinner and dance?

... how to love? Reading through his poem, my heart almost flew out of my chest and I had to hold my breath to make sure it was all real. I've taught him how to love. How? I will never know, but the mess of a human being I am seemed to change someone else's life that I cared about. I threw myself onto him, wrapping my arms around him, feeling in place. I felt a rumble of laughter through his chest and I grinned knowing that this was us. I let him set me down and I took a hold my notepad and pen:

I'd call it a date.