The Price of Hope

nine | beautiful sketches

He's so...artistic.

His fingers run effortlessly on the sketchbook in his hand as if he is running out of time. It reminds me of my crisis and I try not to get distracted by the subtle smile on his lips while he created the art. His face remains concentrated on whatever masterpiece he's creating , occasionally narrowing his brows, with his lips pressed up together. He uses pads of his fingers to smudge the lead, flexing his shoulder muscles unconsciously. The sight of Rehan sketching is something I can never get used to ever.

If there is one positive thing about my dying situation then it would be the fact that I got to see and know this boy for who he really is. An artist at its best.

"Tulips, lilies and wild violets

I love them all

but her smile is what

creates the garden in my heart.

If I tell you now

how she makes it flutter with each of her laughter

all that I've been hiding will be out in a whisper..."

I look up from the book I'm reading to find him looking at me. Our eyes lock and I'm lost in the depths of his words. I look away when he winks at me, something that confuses me every single time. Why can't I look him in the eyes and pretend that it doesn't make me anxious? Why can't I hide away from them? The book almost slips as he shakes his head at my stalled expression. He has no idea how his poetry just skyrocketed each of my nerve endings. Maybe, that is his intention. And if so, I must agree that he achieved it.

"That wasn't the best I've heard." I say.

"I'm a novice in poetry. So, forgive me if it sounds terrible." He dips his head back to the sketchbook and keeps on his ever charming smile. I don't miss how the tips of ears turn red as he avoids looking at me.

"Why are we here?" I ask, setting my book aside and pulling my legs up on the bench to sit in a cross legged fashion. We are in the children's park behind our high school. We got chased out of the art room by the school guard. While I kept requesting the guard not to inform the principal about us skipping the classes, Rehan seemed almost impassive to it. He rather enjoyed the entire scenario. Just when I thought we would be dragged to the principal's office, the boy pulled the guard to the side and said something in his ear. And we ended up in the park instead.

"Because we can't be inside the school premises and not get scolded for skipping classes." He says.

"Didn't you have a free pass to access the art room? Where are your star artists' privileges?" I scoff at him. I don't know why it annoys me to be around him. I feel confused and anxious when I'm around him. Maybe, it's the fact that I have come to like it so much, but I know it's not something I should feel for him.

There's no doubt he likes it very much too, but that's the whole problem. If anyone, he should be out here spending time with Aarya not me. I've never even wanted to be around him, yet when I'm here, I don't think it's that bad. Infact, it feels a little too perfect. The windy weather, his beautiful sketches and his terrible poetry, all of it makes me happy. A rare moment when I don't have to think about sickness or death. I feel alive and that's the feeling I want to chase at the moment.

"Don't you like the weather? It's perfect for sketching." His face lifts up from the sketchbook, a subtle smile playing on his lips as I nod in response. And without a warning, he slides closer to me, his face just a mere inches away from my face. I can feel his breath colliding with mine and he breathes as unevenly as me when we are this close. I know the reason why he's being like this around me, but what confuses me is the way he turns my heartbeat erratic every time he looks into my eyes. It's so damn scary. I'm not supposed to let his actions stir my heart, but somehow I'm starting to feel his presence both comforting and exhilarating at the same time.

"I wanted to ask you something," he whispers, looking momentarily toward my chapped lips. I glide my tongue across to wet them and gulp down the knot in my throat when his eyes follows my action. I give him a weak nod.

"Do you..." he mumbles, slowly lifting his eyes to gaze into mine. I can see them burning into my soul. I blink, once, twice, waiting for him to finish. "Do you want...to drink smoothie?"

"What?" I swallow hard, momentarily disorienting. This much closeness is dangerous. It means he is taking a step forward and I have no other option but to take a step back. And that's exactly what I'm unable to do when he looks so honest with his approaches.

"Let me get it for you." He says, his voice as thick as ever. When I don't respond, he laughs then backs away. "Please wait for me here, okay?"

"Okay." All I can do is say one word.

I remain rooted to my place, my heart stuck in my throat and my heart doing weird flips inside my chest. I can't breathe properly until he steps away from me completely. He starts walking backward, his hands inside the pockets of his black dress pants and that same playful smile playing on his lips. "Nice weather. Don't you think so, Starfish?"

"It's about to rain." I mumble in annoyance but only to myself. I wish I could shut down all my feelings and never react to his actions, but it's so damn hard for me. Every time he is around, I feel too much.

I'm left with two options: Either I wait for him here and get myself tangled in his charms even more or compose my erratic heartbeat and run to my home, away from him, away from the butterflies he gives me.

However, there's this third option that seems more compelling than anything else at the moment.

His sketches.

My eyes fall on the sketchbook he left behind. I gulp the anxiousness forming inside me. My fingers itches to reach for the sketchbook and peek into the world he creates. I want to see the beautiful sketches, and the thought of knowing some more of his secrets transfers a new wave of excitement through my veins. I almost give in to the temptation but pull my hand just before it touches the forbidden.

I already gave into the curiosity and ended up ruining the remaining peaceful days of my life. It's better not to delve deeper into his world when I know no good will come out of it. My time is limited and his soulful, artistic eyes are too deep to ever reach the ultimate depth of it in such a short time. I suddenly feel extreme hatred towards everything around me.

Rehan has invoked a new feeling within me and I don't need that now. But I want it so badly that it makes me wanna cry.

I hate it.

I turn my head away from his sketch pad and keep gazing at the darkening sky. It's about to rain but my eyes pour out the anguish first.

***

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