Fists and Lipsticks 2: The Silver Crescent

CHAPTER 42: Probabilities and Commandments

CHAPTER 42: PROBABILITIES AND COMMANDMENTS

Liquid is more potent than smoke.

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Probably the amnesic vapor…

I contented myself with the most logical explanation as I slowly opened my eyes, completely oblivious to what had transpired the previous night apart from the crying session with Crosse and Silence. I could not recall how I ended up here on the bed. I woke up with these pink sheets draped over me, providing my body with pampering warmth. The pillows stacked beneath my cheeks were still damp with tears.

I turned my head aside, my eyes squinting from the faint sunshine that squeezed its way into the narrow gap between the amber curtains. The coldness of the room only made my movement more languid than it already was. My disheveled hair and swollen eyes were proof of my wrecked state.

But I can remember the rest. Other than what happened after we cried last night, everything else still lingered inside my fragile box of memories.

I was still capable of remembering. I was still capable of crying. I still had tears to shed. I still continued to hold onto the emotions that would enable me to yell, smile, and love.

Good news? Probably.

Perhaps I was naturally immune to whatever drug was incorporated into the smoke bomb Rei used against me. The Oblivion Vapors could either be defective or placebo. It could be the antidote Crosse made me inhale. Or maybe it was simply because I was lucky.

Thinking of all the probabilities only made my head throb. I need to freshen up, the hygiene-freak in me screamed.

Groggily, I pushed myself up from the bed. Barefooted and wearing nothing but this scanty white cotton night garment, I dawdled towards the bathroom, pushed the door open, and stepped inside, unmindful of everything else other than my intention to pamper my face with a nice sudsy wash. My eyes were still half-asleep and my senses were tapered from exhaustion…

… until I saw him.

My once-upon-a-time-droopy eyes inflated to the size of ping pong balls in a matter of milliseconds. I could have sworn that, right after I unintentionally stared at him from head to foot as he stepped out of the shower, beads of water trickling down his now blond hair, his gleaming complexion, his six pack abs, and his godlike face, I caught his sensual lips curve into a grin.

"G…G-Gomen! (Sorry!)" I immediately turned around, hurried out of the bathroom, and slammed the door behind me. My face turned completely crimson from embarrassment. Not that the sight of naked men crept me out like I was a self-proclaimed, naïve, hypocritical virgin. This scenario was just too cliché. But clichés could make a heart skip a beat. Mine just did.

I shook my head, convincing myself that, probably, I was born as one of those people willing to embrace the cliché. I could not help but smile whenever I recall my cliché love story with Kosuke.

The love story Crosse and I had was different. It was nothing cliché. Our relationship was like a race track with so many obstacles, twists, and turns. Probably it was the reason why it did not work. But then again, my cliché story with Kosuke did not work either… or at least 'not yet', for the sake of a better term and a hopeful hope.

Anyway.

My heart skipped another beat as Crosse's grin haunted my thoughts. When I first saw him back in the Empire Hotel, my mind instantly reeled with questions I wanted to ask – What happened to you in the past eight years? Where did you go? What have you been doing? Who was with you? Are you alright? Are you happy?