tapi... saya berpikir bahwa ini bisa saja merupakan original fiction dikarenakan deskripsi yang tidak terlalu menjelaskan identitas tokoh-tokohnya ="))
dan... intinya, saya hanya ingin berbagi saja karena ini merupakan karya yang sangat berkesan bagi saya <-- narsis #whacked ="DDDDD
...silahkan...
Amayadori
Sounds of raindrops clashing the umbrella I hold ring loudly into my
ears as if wanted to completely make me deaf of any other sounds; even his
breathes and my heart beats. I watch my slow hesitant steps and his steady ones
and feel nothing but the cold water splashing, dripping my shoes wet and
freezing my feet. The reflection of me and him and our umbrellas on the pounds
blur into abstract colors. I stare at it with blank eyes—
He halts. I stop. I tilt my head at his direction and find a gentle
little smile and slight cloudy eyes. There is somewhat a glint of a flash
flooding emotion in his eyes but no voice is slipped through the thin lips that
still curve unwaveringly in a smile. I nod slightly, averting away my gaze as I
know what he means in the noisy silence.
We turn, heading towards the nearest shelter of a closed convenient
store, folding our umbrellas and leaning them against the wall.
The sounds of rain ring louder into my ears, trying their best to make
me deaf of any other sound; his breathes and my heart beats. As I look at the
‘world’ before me, it’s blurring into pale abstract colors mixing with grayish
shades because of the rain. Not only sounds, it looks like the rain also wants
to manipulate my eyes to only see what it wants to show; a ‘world’ with hazy
sceneries and big dots of hydrangeas that are gradually losing their bold
colorful colors.
My sense is alarmed to the gentle touch on my shoulder. I turn and,
again, meet with his gentle smile. He’s trying to dry me with a handkerchief,
sweeping the drops the rain leaves unintentionally. Merely remaining quiet, I
watch as he pulls my frozen hand and gently dry it. And as he let my hand go
only to pull my other hand, I find myself lifting the already cleaned hand to
touch his bangs and sweeping several drops off.
His eyes widened a little for a while; an obvious emotion that even I
can read: shocked. But soon they soften into a usual gaze, slowly looking down,
focusing on sweeping my other hand. I let him not to mutter anything because
it’ll be in vain because I barely can hear any sounds right now. The sounds of
rain have made me deaf of any other sounds; his breathes and my heart beats. It’s
so noisy yet voiceless. And it’s calming yet…
I move my fingers, tracing his face (cheek, chin, and slowly up on to
the thin lips, staying still). I can feel he let go of my hand as he has
finished cleaning it, but I don’t withdraw my other one from his face, from his
lips. Stay still.
He doesn’t give any hints of protest or any meaningful responses as the
lips don’t move and the slowly-watery eyes are still clouded a little with a
flooding emotion that flashes in beautifully. I stare straightly at those
‘mirrors’ and find my reflection looks so small. There’s a little painful
squeeze in what I recall as my heart. Finally, I withdraw my hand, letting it
fall loosely.
And yet, he doesn’t give any.
I bow my head, focusing on the wet ground, to the pound created from
the drops splashing from outside the shelter and the drops from my lower
clothes. And I spot a similar yet
different pound too below his figure. Umbrellas really don’t shelter us from
the rain completely. And I begin to feel that the rain really wants to
manipulate everything, drowning them into a hazy world of it. As I wonder like
that, the little painful squeeze comes back, tugging my what-so-called heart. I
place my trembling hand on chest as if to cease such strange sensation away.
But I fail.
His hand gently touches mine on chest. His finger intertwines with
mine, pulling it together down. He keeps it like that without even any other movements;
hints to what he has done, a mere response. I stare at the intertwining
fingers. And whether it’s because of the rain or it’s indeed because of the
rain, my sight goes blur. My eyes are hot and burning. The painful squeeze in
my heart becomes severe yet I feel strangely relieved because at the same time
it seems like melting away into the hazy world of the rain. And before I can
stop myself, my tears find their way down onto my numb cheeks.
It’s all the rain’s fault. Its sounds. Its transparent barrier. Its
hazy world. All just manipulate me, manipulate us. But why, even like that, it
feels so much real?
The finger tugs mine a little. My lips broaden into a little smile.
Maybe it’s because of the rain that even the tiniest the most infinitesimal
warmth is so overwhelming than ever. And at that thought, I give up on blaming
the rain.
Then as I realize, my ears miss the thick loud sounds and the grayish
shades deceased into bright light of evening sun. I look up, turning my head
towards the view before me; it’s much clearer and the hydrangeas’ colorful
colors are even bolder that it’s so beautiful. It’s so beautiful that it’s
relieving.
“...let's go home?”
His voice rings so loud into my ears, into my hearts, into me. It
vibrates a nostalgic feeling. And I’m just reminded of how much I miss his
voice, how much I miss him.
I nod slowly.
It’s all the rain’s fault.
And it doesn’t matter.
4 February 2011
By Natsu^^v
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