The build, we had spoken for hours on hours, unravelling the bridge between us;we gave it our best shot. Spoken words and twinkly stares. We worked it all out.
On a sunny morning, with the head forming beads of sweat on our skin, making it moist, and the dark patches on your dress, we sat side by side saying everything and nothing in particular.
We completed each other's sentences and we spoke with our eyes. She chuckled, and I cover my face embarrassed, she stops and asks what the matter was. I only wave her off with a forced grin. But she still insisted, her eyes spoke again. This time, persistent.
I placed my hand on her shoulders and gazed into her eyes. I was swallowed almost instantly. With just one quick stare, our past had flashed before our eyes.
We chuckled in unison as we watched it play before us.
We found each other in the company of other friends. My coursemate and then close pal, and she, her best friend that caught my coursemate's fancy. We regularly dropped by their lodge and made small conversations. I watched while coursemate made his moves. I wish I had something like that going on. But then I shrugged it off.
Then, I felt love wasn't meant for me.
She was regular and plain, tight buns in a curl, pimpled face, and brown eyes. Not a single spark emanated from her eyes like it did now.
She was the roommate that always killed my coursemate's vibe. Her presence in the room drains energy out of him.
So, we nicknamed her “Samehada.”
Curled from the Japanese Anime : Naruto Shippunden.
She annoyed me a lot. Pissed me off even. Her presence birthed hostility and my chest tightens whenever she walks into the room.
I greeted her not.
She never seemed to care. Always engrossed in her books, and always chatty. Her name I cared nor for. Her behind I never bothered to examine.
She was unattractive, at least I thought.
I remember the day we made formal contact. It wasn't rosy. I came back from class and I was supposed to go and get the cap my coursemate had forgotten at their side the previous day while he was out with her roommate.
Getting there, I see her. Absorbed in a book. Oblivious to my presence. She murmured a ‘Hey’ and I hummed a reply. I got the cap and headed for the door without a word.
I stopped abruptly when I saw the cover of the book she was reading.
Erotica.
I couldn't control my amusement. I rushed out of the house and laughed at her a whole deal. It was exceeding the boiling point. She must've caught me through the window. Because the next day she was hostile towards me.
She muttered curses. We quarreled, physical jabs, she throws. But I never laid a finger on her.
As she was about to flick a wrist that was supposed to guide her pettite palm to my face, I gripped her roughly and pulled her close to me. She winced, I smiled. I stared into her. With my anger that became nonexistent when I touched the soul in her eyes.
After seeing it, I withdrew instantly. I walked away as I vowed never to step a foot into that place. She became my only thought. While I read, ate, and did number-threes, my brain formulates an image of her and materialized before me.
The last incident always on replay. Her winces, her weak struggle with my grip, and her eyes that momentarily glinted. I watched the sun rays fall on us, with the eyes of onlookers that observed the fight, and the eyes of God, her heavily heaving chest, and the anger in her breath, everything clicked as one.
Then, time stopped.
I was captured in something I couldn't decipher at the moment. My brain rewrote the algorithm of hate towards her and it turned to something else.
She controlled my afterthoughts, a dogma that I gladly adapted, a philosophy that became a universal law. I smiled everytime I replay the incident.
Then it came to a point that I couldn't just do without seeing her. I'd go to her favorite reading spot and spy on her from a distance. I'd watch her brows arched invertly with small curves on her forehead, while she read. And my heart would race. The sensation was numbish. I grined.
But one day as I went for my staring medicine, she caught me and Walked over. As she stood before me, we were talking. Not with words, but with our hearts. We spoke the words without effort. And we understood each other perfectly.
After then we became inseparable, She is my purpose, the dogma that became philosophy — and a philosophy that became a religion. I wouldn't let her be, and I couldn't let her.
As we sat here, reminiscing. We stared, again at each other and smiled.
We kissed into the wind and let the universe caress our love for ten thousand eternities.
