Sunday, January 9, 2011

Discord

"Stop criticizing me all the time!" I yelled, exasperated. "You keep doing it all the time and I can't stand it anymore!"

I was suddenly reminded of a sentence I saw in the newspaper--'A person shouts at another person when in anger because the distance between their hearts is great.'

Her response was instantaneous, her eyes widened slightly, then she raised her voice, not quite shouting yet, "I'm trying to teach you to be a better person, how am I supposed to do that when you always get so defensive and don't listen to me?"

I had had enough. I didn't quite mean to stoop so low as to mention that person, but right then I didn't care. "Haven't you ever thought of why he turned out that way, and that I too am starting to be biased about everything you say?" I took a step forward.

"It's because there's been so many times you're wrong, that we can't trust anymore that you're right."

Sunday, December 5, 2010

To Trust.

"You haven't been to the meets this week."

Funny how the world could be so small sometimes. So I thought as I scrambled to get a hold on myself. It took all my effort to not just run and get the hell out of there, and I didn't even try to control my heart which was doing all sorts of acrobatics just at the sound of his familiar voice.

There were plenty of places he could have looked for me, the plentiful cafes in town, the parks where we used to hang out, the usual library I went to near my college. But somehow, he managed to find his way here, of all places.

Or maybe he already went looking around all those places for me, another part of my mind whispered. I ignored it and continued to gather my books. Steeling myself as best as I could, I finally looked up to meet his eyes. "For obvious reasons." I pushed back my chair and turned to leave.

"And what would avoiding me achieve?"

"It expresses my... answer to your suggestion best. Or it should have." I swept my gaze to the side, unable to bear the stiffening of his shoulders, the taken aback look in his eyes. It felt so damn wrong to talk so formally with him. "And I hoped it would give you some time to get over your..." I trailed off, mentally looking for the right words. "...misplaced interest."

Anger flared in his eyes at the term. "Misplaced interest? What the hell?" Hating him for making me do this, hating myself for hating him, I brushed past him with a "I need to go."

He caught my wrist, "Wait--"

Unable to fight back against the strong feelings of relief, mixed happiness, hate and most importantly, betrayal, I spun around and spat out, "We promised. That day we promised each other, dammit. You promised me you'd never hurt me. You promised me."

He flinched at the anger and resentment in my voice, hurt shimmering just under the the words. "I'm not trying to hurt you, Leia. I'm not, and I won't."

"But you are!" I said, exasperated. "You know that where this is going will only lead to hurting each other."

Frustration evident in his voice, "So what? You expect me to ignore what I feel? Will you keep pretending that you really just think of me as a friend?"

"If that's what it takes, then yes."

"Well then you must be made out of stronger stuff than me, because I couldn't go on pretending the day I realized I was in love with you."

In love with-- I choked. I tried to struggled out of his grip, but his fingers just tightened. "Let go of me." My voice trembled.

"Stop trying to run away. Look at me." His other hand cupped my cheek, turning my face to face him. "Look at me, Leia." His intense hazel eyes found mine. "I'm not going to hurt you." He said. "I don't ever want that."

"But you'll leave me. They always do. In the end, for one reason or another, you'll leave me." And that would hurt me more than anything else you could do. "This way, we'll still be friends, even if it takes a while before this whole mess is over."

"The only way I would leave is if you asked me to." By this time, I had stopped struggling and was simply trying to hold back my tears. "Trust me, Leia. Loving someone isn't usually the hard part, but trusting is. Trust that I won't leave you, trust that I really do love you, trust that the only person's happiness I care about more than my own is you."

I shook my head, lowering my gaze. "I can't. I'm scared, Caleb. I can't. I'm so sorry." Then I bolted out the door, not stopping to look back even once.

Monday, November 8, 2010

How I Met Your Father

The four of them were doing their nightly bonding ritual--well it was more like a Q & A time for them to answer their inquisitive eldest daughter's questions and putting their younger one to sleep--when her beautiful little girl asked a question that made her burst into laughter.

"Mommy?"

"Hmm?"

"How did you and Daddy meet?"

The couple exchanged one incredulous look and then their frames shook from boisterous laughter. Taking a steadying breath while her husband still chuckled, she answered honestly. "Well... I slapped him twice and he dunked me into a pool of cold water."

It was her first time seeing a skeptical look on an eight year old.

"What? You don't believe your mommy?" he tickled his little girl's side, making her giggle. Pulling her onto his lap, she replied, "Well, I don't think I'd like it very much if a boy dunked me into water..."

"If a boy did, I would hang him upside down above a pool of sharks." her father promised, grinning. The sound of a child's laughter was beautiful, she thought.


Smiling, she asked her eldest child, "Would you like to hear the story of how your Daddy and I met?" Caramel locks bounced as she nodded vigorously. "Okay, come and sit between Daddy and I and I'll tell you."


"It began like this--"

Grumbling, she once again glared at the man/boy/guy who she just couldn't not hate, even if everyone around him treats him like an idol or something. He was sitting on the bench with legs wide apart, shoulders slightly hunched as his wrist flicked a dagger round and round agitatedly. His mere presence was just so annoying--and when he opened his mouth it was even more so.

Why oh why couldn't she get stuck with someone else? Anyone else would be a relief compared to him--it could even be a dog or pig or something...

"Could you stop with your staring? It's bad enough to have to put up with you, but having you trying to burn a hole through my head with your eyes even though I'm doing this to help you is grating on my nerves." He snapped.

"Are you really an FBI agent? Because I would've thought someone from the FBI would be able to tell the difference between a glare and a stare!" She snapped back.

He gripped the handle of his knife just a wee bit too hard. He tried to resist the temptation to throw the thing at her as he narrowed his eyes. He'd been through every kind of endurance test, but none of them had prepared him against this stupid, ignorant little girl.

He had been so proud when he was promoted to fully-trained FBI after only three and a half years worth of training. It had been a record and some had been worried if he was up to it, but he had proven himself to be fast enough, skillful enough, and sly enough to go on missions fully-trained FBIs went to.

But due to lack of experience, he had been assigned to a girl who was under Witness Protection Program after she witnessed a serial killer killing a man. At first they had thought the killer didn't know she saw his crime, but a few hours ago a sniper had tried to take her out. Protocol decreed that he had to take her somewhere safe and isolated until they were sure the coast was clear--she was the only one who could identify the killer and absolutely couldn't be compromised.

Which is why they were inside an old public indoor swimming pool that people rarely used because of a story of how a girl was murdered in this very pool. Funny how that might actually happen... he slid a glance to the girl who was pacing around impatiently. ...if she pushes me again.

Suddenly she stopped, squatted and curled herself into a ball with a sigh. He momentarily sympathized with her. Normally seventeen-year-old girls worried about boyfriends and zits rather than psycho killers. She must be pretty bored too. Deciding to get a moment's rest, he lied back on the bench and closed his eyes.

There was nothing but the sound of water lapping quietly in the pool, lulling him to sleep. Chiding himself for allowing himself to relax on the job, he straightened and promptly froze.

The door was wide open.

He gaped and quickly strode towards the door, She didn't... He glimpsed a petite figure vanishing round a corner. She did.

Even if the killer didn't, he was so going to kill her.

Heart pounding, she tried to run as quickly and as quietly as she could. The dude didn't even notice her slip away! Ha, take that, stupid FBI agent! She knew she shouldn't but it was so unfair--she had to be stuck with a grumpy old coot while it was her best friend's birthday! She was not going to sit around doing nothing but being bored out of her mind--after what she'd been through, and having the courage to tell the authorities what she'd seen, this is what she gets in return? No. Way. No freakin' way.

Considering for a moment, she decided to head downtown, where there were lots of people. She'd be safe there, she doubted he'd risk exposure to get rid of her... She had actually wanted to go home, but--

Thud.

A familiar solid wall of male stood before her, and when she peeked at his face she knew she was toast. A growl emitted from the back of his throat, and his entire presence screamed dangerous. She involuntarily took a step back in reflex and he misinterpreted it as another attempt to run. His eyes narrowed into slits as his temper finally snapped.

Without further preamble, he grabbed her waist and pulled her onto his shoulder, ignoring her yelp. Quickly he strode back into the indoor pool and unceremoniously plucked and dropped her roughly on the ground.

Mortified at being caught like a child in wrongdoing, indignant at being manhandled, and having all the pride and ego of a seventeen year old, she did the first thing that came to her mind and drew back her arm.

A surprised look momentarily wiped off the angry look on his face when her backhand caught him full on the side of his face. Then it returned fiercer than ever. It took every single ounce of some very, very hard earned self-restraint to not to do anything that he would regret... much, much later. Grabbing both her wrists, he drew in a deep, soul-calming breath and gritted out in a rough, stony voice, "If you do that again, I will throw you headfirst into the pool."

He let her struggle in his grip for a while, wanting her to be fully aware that he was much, much stronger than her and that she was powerless against him. When he felt his temper slip back into his control--though only a bit of it--he let her go.

She went for his left cheek this time.

That is it. He lifted her up easily, and while holding her like a sack of potatoes,he chucked her into the pool headfirst. She had a fifth of a second to scream before she was engulfed in cold, cold water. Gasping and flailing, she said shrilly in a disbelieving tone, "I can't believe you actually chucked me into the pool!"

He stood right at the edge of the pool, and looked down at her. She was glaring up at him, but what with her flailing and her soaked hair, she was amusing at the most. If anything, she looked like a soaking wet kitten sulking. He smothered a smile. "I'm a man of my word." He said dryly.

She snorted.

"The end!" She grinned at her child, who was taring open-mouthed at her. Well, she did edit a few details, but even with just a rough idea of what happened, it must have seemed... perplexing for a kid her age, at the least. Abruptly, a childish smile adorned her kid's chubby face as she gushed. "Wow, Mommy, that's so cool! I want my future prince and I to have an interesting story like that, too!" The parents chuckled. Then her father swept her into his arms, and said, "Okay, enough storytelling. Time to go to bed." "Aww..."

She was about to go with them when her six-month-old baby started wailing. Gently, she held him and rocked him back to sleep.

As she settled her baby into her crib, she felt strong, warm arms wind around her waist and smiled. Pressing a kiss to the crook of her neck, he murmured, "But it is an interesting story, don't you think?"

Placing her arms on his, she said, "I do think so... And best of all," she turned and held his face, "it's our story." Then kissed him on the lips.

Every Time I Close My Eyes

Lucius sat alone in the conference room.

But then again, he had never been alone ever since he'd dedicated himself to this, because every time, every single time he made a decision like this, and closed his eyes, just like this, he always saw them. Thousands upon thousands of faces, their gazes trapping him eternally within their eyes. Each pair was a blazing neon sign that reminded him of the lives that were now in his hands, how each move he made would change the outcome of so many lives. 

Each time he closed his eyes, he would see those eyes. They came in different colours and sizes, but they were all the same. All of them conveyed the same message to him,

I trust you.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

What I Feel

Though only one person had ever said the question out loud, I won't pretend to not notice it in the eyes of the people around me. They ask,

What are you to him?

What is he to you?

What feelings do you have for him?

What kind of love do you hold for him?

It's basically the same questions, with a simple answer, really. But then again, it took me a long time to find that answer too. Somehow, I feel that this question and its answer isn't of much significance, at least it shouldn't be to others anyway. Oh well, he is him, so everything concerning is of significance, I guess. Hmm.

Well, I'd tell you the answer, but many people don't understand, though it's simpler than many things... 

It is undeniable that he is more than just my lord. Everyone acknowledges that. But I have also fought with him, not just for him, and so he is also my comrade. He is my friend, my adviser, my teacher, my partner. He is nearly everything.


But then you insist that this is not an answer. This is not the answer you want. You already know I love him. You wish to know,

What kind love do I have for him?

Sigh. You still don't understand? It is not a kind of love that can even be defined. No, not a knight's love. Not a comrade's, nor a friend's, nor as a partner nor lover.

What I have is love in its simplest form.

I simply love him.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

That Hot

Derek was irked.

Two days ago, he was in a good mood and decided to be nice and helped out their class weirdo, who began spouting out stuff about karma and proceeded to arrange a blind date for him--which of course, he did not go to...

...Which brought him to be in his current predicament. His friends were all sighing and shaking their heads in disbelief and mock-pity. Apparently they had gone to meet his supposed 'date' without him anyway.

He nudged Ashton beside him. "How hot was she?"

Ashton gave him a look and said, "I'm gay, and you're asking me?"

"Well, for one you're the only guy who hasn't told me I'm an idiot twice today, and even if you are gay you're still a dude, and dudes appreciate pretty girls."

Ashton contemplated this for a moment. "Honestly?" He finally said.

"Yeah."

"She was almost hot enough to turn me straight."

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Catch My Drift

"So do you catch my drift?"

Mercy looked at her in befuddlement. "I feel no drift coming from you. Even if I did, how am I supposed to catch it?" He asked in a are-you-ridiculous tone.

She rolled her eyes, "I meant do you understand..."

"Oh. Yeah..." He frowned. "Why do you people come up with such confusing terms?" Shaking his head, he sighed.

Grinning, she said, "To confuse people like you."