Sequel: Sunshine. ›
Amber
Patience.
“Why do you look so sad?” His voice rings throughout the silence like the resounding sound of a wind chime, a soothing, musical sound that has been vacant from my life for too long now and welcoming in the deafeningly still air. I watch the rise and fall of the amber water, sparkling beneath the setting sun like a sheet of glitter, never stationary even without a breeze. I’ve been coming here every day since the start of the month, just waiting beneath the dense heat, the warmth of an Indian summer pulsing through my veins, lying heavy on my lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe.
He’s not there, I tell myself that just before I turn around. It may sound like his voice, silky smooth and glorious to the long dormant ear, but it’s not his voice. It never will be, not until I myself sink into the depths of the ocean, the cool waves smothering me with a crystal clear blanket, orange under the retreating light of a dying day.
I tell myself he isn’t there with his crimson locks and soft black eyes, eyes that used to set my soul alight and make me smile. Of course, they weren’t totally black – in some lights they would shimmer and sparkle with deep amber pixie dust and blaze with passion reserved only for me. And it was those eyes I liked best, with the fierce intensity of the summer sun contained within his irises.
He always reminded me of summer, whether it was his personality or his hair, even though he loved the winter. He complained about the heat, preferred the chill of snowflakes falling on perfect skin. His birthday was so close to Christmas; you’d think he was the perfect example of winter, especially with that pale complexion of his. But he was summer for me, the sunshine in my life, the personification of the sweet fragrance of meadows and the warmth of the waves trickling over exposed toes.
He’s there behind me with his blood red hair defying gravity, the strands standing petrified on top of his head, giving the impression he’s been struck by lightning. His head is cocked to the side, a small serene smile playing on gentle, kind lips. He doesn’t look a day older than the last time I saw him, at the start of the month, when the heat had just begun to rise and the days were shorter. Of course he wouldn’t. The process of ageing ends when the blood freezes in the veins and the heart stops pumping, when the warmth of skin turns ice cold beneath the touch of curious fingers.
“Daisuke?” My voice is disbelieving, critical almost, and I find myself pinching the skin of my forearm but I don’t wake up. I sigh, drinking in the mirage of his beautiful form with tired eyes, my vision partly obscured by the blond strands of my fringe. He smiles softly, his eyes reflecting the shimmering colours of the dying sun, his skin slightly transparent, his scent faded. I can’t bring myself to call him by his nickname.
“Kyo,” he replies, his voice gentle, the tone turning my name into a song. He looks down on me as I sit on the stale wooden planks of the pier, my legs dangling limply over the side, allowing the light breeze to carry them wherever it wants to go. “Mind if I join you?”
I shake my head, a soft smile drifting across my lips before disappearing back into the blank mask I’ve been wearing for countless days, my gaze suddenly meeting the keen, curious eyes of a man walking one of those small yappy dogs further down the road. He thinks I’m deranged, dangling off the edge of a rotting pier, talking to thin air. But then, everyone is crazy around here, living fast and dying young without once pausing to breathe in the scent of the amber summer.
They never stop to look around, to take in the spectacle of the sun sinking beneath the horizon, to sit with someone they truly love and watch nothing in particular. They may think they live, with their parties and their drama, but they’re just crazy, living their life with their eyes closed and blind to what makes really existing meaningful. By this logic, I am the least insane person in this rundown town and this man, with his ridiculously tight shorts and gormless expression, can piss off.
Die, no… Daisuke takes a seat next to me, his elegant legs crossed in a way that looks terribly uncomfortable. But then again, his whole body is numb, unable to feel or be felt, and so it can’t bother him much. I swallow the lump in my throat and attempt to smile again, but looking at him doesn’t help hold back the tears threatening to break free and destroy the carefully constructed mask I’ve built to hide behind.
“What’s wrong?” Of course, he can see through it. He always could, always, with those black eyes of his reaching deep into my soul. I don’t know why I thought it would be easier to hide from him now.
“I was waiting for you,” I close my eyes, a small smile playing on my lips, deciding to be honest with him. After all, lying wasn’t worth the effort. “For quite a while now. Then again, you were always one to keep me waiting, weren’t you?”
“Perhaps,” he laughs lightly, clearly amused but still somewhat curious, “But why? You must have known I wasn’t coming back.”
“And, yet here you are,” I raise an eyebrow at him, a grin spreading across my face, gaining a quick smile and a nod in return. The man is still staring, I can feel his eyes on my back but I don’t turn around or attempt to ignore the apparition sitting next to me. He can go fuck himself as far as I’m concerned.
My eyes drift over my partners face for a brief moment, silently evaluating the delicate rise and fall of the bones hidden by porcelain skin, the slight glow of his translucent form intriguing, almost mesmerising. I stop my hand just before it reaches his cheek, knowing that if I attempt to touch him, he would disappear into nothingness. I’ve done it before and I don’t want to do it again.
“So… why are you sitting out here being all boring?” he grins, teeth bared adorably, his expression confused but amused. He was never one to appreciate nature. I tut, pursing my lips and crossing my arms. He chuckles at my expression, he never took my mood swings seriously. Then again, he could always bring me out of a foul temper with a joke or just one of those gorgeous smiles. “If you wanted to find me, surely you should be waiting in a bar?”
“Well…” I pause, wondering how to phrase my words so they don’t sound cheesy or stupid. But in the end, I just blurt out what I’m thinking, knowing that he doesn’t care if I make a fool of myself. “You see I wanted to test something. This view is pretty beautiful, right? The way the light catches the water and makes it look like it’s on fire. I wanted to see if it looked any better with you by my side.”
I have to laugh at my words, the sound becoming choked and distorted by the lump rising in my throat. He stares at me for a moment, his mouth open slightly, thinking about what to say next. I half expect him to say something profound and beautiful, the look in his eyes is so intense and I can almost hear his mind working. But that’s not his style.
“Well I assume it does, since everything is much, much better when I’m involved.” He laughs, which results in a light slap round the head that goes straight through him. To my surprise, he doesn’t evaporate into thin air. He’s still there with his crimson locks and deep amber pixie dust eyes, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.
And again, I have to laugh.
“Of course, Daisuke, of course.”
He’s not there, I tell myself that just before I turn around. It may sound like his voice, silky smooth and glorious to the long dormant ear, but it’s not his voice. It never will be, not until I myself sink into the depths of the ocean, the cool waves smothering me with a crystal clear blanket, orange under the retreating light of a dying day.
I tell myself he isn’t there with his crimson locks and soft black eyes, eyes that used to set my soul alight and make me smile. Of course, they weren’t totally black – in some lights they would shimmer and sparkle with deep amber pixie dust and blaze with passion reserved only for me. And it was those eyes I liked best, with the fierce intensity of the summer sun contained within his irises.
He always reminded me of summer, whether it was his personality or his hair, even though he loved the winter. He complained about the heat, preferred the chill of snowflakes falling on perfect skin. His birthday was so close to Christmas; you’d think he was the perfect example of winter, especially with that pale complexion of his. But he was summer for me, the sunshine in my life, the personification of the sweet fragrance of meadows and the warmth of the waves trickling over exposed toes.
He’s there behind me with his blood red hair defying gravity, the strands standing petrified on top of his head, giving the impression he’s been struck by lightning. His head is cocked to the side, a small serene smile playing on gentle, kind lips. He doesn’t look a day older than the last time I saw him, at the start of the month, when the heat had just begun to rise and the days were shorter. Of course he wouldn’t. The process of ageing ends when the blood freezes in the veins and the heart stops pumping, when the warmth of skin turns ice cold beneath the touch of curious fingers.
“Daisuke?” My voice is disbelieving, critical almost, and I find myself pinching the skin of my forearm but I don’t wake up. I sigh, drinking in the mirage of his beautiful form with tired eyes, my vision partly obscured by the blond strands of my fringe. He smiles softly, his eyes reflecting the shimmering colours of the dying sun, his skin slightly transparent, his scent faded. I can’t bring myself to call him by his nickname.
“Kyo,” he replies, his voice gentle, the tone turning my name into a song. He looks down on me as I sit on the stale wooden planks of the pier, my legs dangling limply over the side, allowing the light breeze to carry them wherever it wants to go. “Mind if I join you?”
I shake my head, a soft smile drifting across my lips before disappearing back into the blank mask I’ve been wearing for countless days, my gaze suddenly meeting the keen, curious eyes of a man walking one of those small yappy dogs further down the road. He thinks I’m deranged, dangling off the edge of a rotting pier, talking to thin air. But then, everyone is crazy around here, living fast and dying young without once pausing to breathe in the scent of the amber summer.
They never stop to look around, to take in the spectacle of the sun sinking beneath the horizon, to sit with someone they truly love and watch nothing in particular. They may think they live, with their parties and their drama, but they’re just crazy, living their life with their eyes closed and blind to what makes really existing meaningful. By this logic, I am the least insane person in this rundown town and this man, with his ridiculously tight shorts and gormless expression, can piss off.
Die, no… Daisuke takes a seat next to me, his elegant legs crossed in a way that looks terribly uncomfortable. But then again, his whole body is numb, unable to feel or be felt, and so it can’t bother him much. I swallow the lump in my throat and attempt to smile again, but looking at him doesn’t help hold back the tears threatening to break free and destroy the carefully constructed mask I’ve built to hide behind.
“What’s wrong?” Of course, he can see through it. He always could, always, with those black eyes of his reaching deep into my soul. I don’t know why I thought it would be easier to hide from him now.
“I was waiting for you,” I close my eyes, a small smile playing on my lips, deciding to be honest with him. After all, lying wasn’t worth the effort. “For quite a while now. Then again, you were always one to keep me waiting, weren’t you?”
“Perhaps,” he laughs lightly, clearly amused but still somewhat curious, “But why? You must have known I wasn’t coming back.”
“And, yet here you are,” I raise an eyebrow at him, a grin spreading across my face, gaining a quick smile and a nod in return. The man is still staring, I can feel his eyes on my back but I don’t turn around or attempt to ignore the apparition sitting next to me. He can go fuck himself as far as I’m concerned.
My eyes drift over my partners face for a brief moment, silently evaluating the delicate rise and fall of the bones hidden by porcelain skin, the slight glow of his translucent form intriguing, almost mesmerising. I stop my hand just before it reaches his cheek, knowing that if I attempt to touch him, he would disappear into nothingness. I’ve done it before and I don’t want to do it again.
“So… why are you sitting out here being all boring?” he grins, teeth bared adorably, his expression confused but amused. He was never one to appreciate nature. I tut, pursing my lips and crossing my arms. He chuckles at my expression, he never took my mood swings seriously. Then again, he could always bring me out of a foul temper with a joke or just one of those gorgeous smiles. “If you wanted to find me, surely you should be waiting in a bar?”
“Well…” I pause, wondering how to phrase my words so they don’t sound cheesy or stupid. But in the end, I just blurt out what I’m thinking, knowing that he doesn’t care if I make a fool of myself. “You see I wanted to test something. This view is pretty beautiful, right? The way the light catches the water and makes it look like it’s on fire. I wanted to see if it looked any better with you by my side.”
I have to laugh at my words, the sound becoming choked and distorted by the lump rising in my throat. He stares at me for a moment, his mouth open slightly, thinking about what to say next. I half expect him to say something profound and beautiful, the look in his eyes is so intense and I can almost hear his mind working. But that’s not his style.
“Well I assume it does, since everything is much, much better when I’m involved.” He laughs, which results in a light slap round the head that goes straight through him. To my surprise, he doesn’t evaporate into thin air. He’s still there with his crimson locks and deep amber pixie dust eyes, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.
And again, I have to laugh.
“Of course, Daisuke, of course.”