Fists and Lipsticks 2: The Silver Crescent

CHAPTER 46: Inquiries

CHAPTER 46: INQUIRIES

The gang life is sweet and insane.

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"Sausage muffin and scrambled eggs for the Empress of China coming up! I heard she now prefers McDonalds over chao mian and miso soup."

Ah, to be welcomed by Crosse's smile as you descend from the staircase upon waking up…

Add up to it the pink checkered apron tied around his waist, a spatula on his grasp with which he flipped scrambled eggs ablaze on a pan, the hot smoke condensing as beads of sweat across his forehead rolling down to his jaw, the way his tight muscles and pectorals formed defined creases on his black A-shirt, the glow of his skin against the morning rays making way through the wide-open windows by the kitchen... How should I describe a sight that no word could justifiably define? A feeling that could make one's heart flutter in a manner surreal and unimaginable?

Yesterday, I spent the whole day with Crosse, joyriding and racing against the Shinkansen across Hakata, Osaka, Tokyo, even up to Nagano and Niigata onboard the Circa Constellation S. After which, we dined out to satisfy our gravy addiction, strolled around the park holding hands, ran breathlessly in the rain like frolicking kids, and shared a passionate kiss inside an old phone booth.

I would clench my fists just a little when it stings, bite my pink lips as I let out a subtle chuckle when those moments of bliss flashed on my mind like scenes from a movie, and then perhaps shed a tear or two as the curtain falls – as the trail of thoughts come to an end. To describe the feeling as 'happy' was an understatement, for after all, reminiscing about the past while being with the person you reminisce about was like watching the movie of your life shown in real-time.

Perhaps, this was exactly why all came to be this way. The things that seemed too good were meant to stay in the world of dreams alone. It was life's way of setting apart what’s real from magic.

Yesterday, we decided to end it.

And now, there he stood, the beautiful man he was, serving me sausage muffin and scrambled eggs for breakfast. A great start to an end?

"What's wrong?" he looked at me intently with those enigmatic eyes as he plopped down on the seat across mine, untying the apron around his waist. "Didn't get enough sleep last night?"

"Uhm… yeah," I reached for the fork and took a slice of scrambled egg. I did not have to deny what was obvious. My eyes were swollen and droopy. He could effortlessly figure out what was going on inside my mind. His talent to read me like a book was incontestable.

"I'm going out for a while to pick up the mirror I ordered. Broken mirrors are bad luck," Crosse said, pertaining to the dresser mirror in the bedroom which I shattered with my fist the other night.

Then, he pulled out his mobile phone to check his messages. "I'll pick it up after work."

"After work?" I raised my eyebrows. "And what exactly is your work?"

"Going around…"

"Going around… and…?" I demanded more.

Crosse answered my inquiry nonchalantly, munching his own serving of sausage muffin, "Playing god."

"Wow," I blinked. “You're one hot god.”

“What did you say?”

“I mean the sausage muffin” I bit my lips in embarrassment. “The muffin’s hot, oh god.”