“Careful.
Don’t walk too fast.”
“I’m
not walking too fast.”
But
Reeya was walking like an eager kindergarten on her first field trip. It’s
natural to assume she haven’t been outside for days, maybe even weeks, as there
wasn’t enough manpower from the hospital to supply eyes to see and hands to
manage and help.
They
were on the same place where Tristan had been with Mrs. Worthe when she gave
him the idea of books. Was that days ago? Tristan was losing track of time, to
be honest.
The
garden was perfect and peaceful, especially more so today. It seemed like it
was waiting for them before it showed its splendor in full display – birds
inside the dome were heard chirping form the treetops and honey blossoms and
other kinds of flowers were in bloom. Tristan couldn’t even name some of them.
The
only uncommon sound was their voices and the crunch of their footfalls on the
gravel path. Tristan actually lent his patient his pair of loafers for the walk
– he couldn’t bear the thought of her walking barefoot before him.
So
now, by that amusing turn of events, he was the one walking without anything on
his feet. It’s for a good cause, he
told himself.
“Don’t
you want to sit down?” he asked Reeya on his left side, finishing her cookies
and cream-flavored ice cream. Tristan finished his in a manner of seconds.
“No,
later.”
He
simply nodded his response, knowing she understood. He knew her behavior now
would drastically change later, just like what happened the last time. Tristan didn’t
want that to happen again today. Or ever.
He
was making discreet observations without his clipboard, listing all the things
he could see, and hoping they’re ingrained enough inside his head for him to
remember later. At least, there are things that do make sense.
Reeya,
the modest ray of sunshine that she is, already finished her ice cream and was
walking in no particular direction, seeing everything from the left, right, and
above. He never really got a good look on her face until now, and the soft
light falling on her features helped.
Her
hair that wasn’t even cut properly looked different in the open. It was more…more
of a hairstyle. It made her look pretty, but whatever her hairstyle is, in
Tristan’s eye, she still looked good.
Probably
because of the food she was able to eat these past few days, she acquired a
look of good health and she seems lively. She is lively. Even with her hospital gown, he could see that she has a
slim, lithe figure. He enjoyed looking at her and knowing he was the one who
has brought about these wonderful changes.
“Aren’t
you tired?” she asked casually.
“A
little, yes.” Then, as if on cue, when they both turned around a corner, they
saw an empty bench.
“D’you
want to sit for a while?”
“Yes,
I was actually waiting for you to ask that.” The statement was punctuated with
a sweet, timid smile and she walked towards the said bench. He was left behind
a little, slightly taken aback by the smile, but he recovered enough to be able
to move towards her and sit.
“Do
you know why I braided my hair?”
The
sudden question came out of nowhere that he was caught off guard. Again.
Uncertain, he replied, “Uhm, you used to do that a lot?”
“Yes,
you’re right.” She nodded, while the doctor was still struggling to catch up,
she sped on, “I used to do that a lot when I was in highschool.” As she was
speaking, her fingers unconsciously came up to the tips of her hair.
Tristan’s
eyes followed, and his thoughts turned on rollercoaster mode.
Reeya
– no, Tristan reprimanded himself – a
patient with a damaged mind able to
recall bits of pieces from their past is not a lost cause. They can be healed,
and there’s a good chance it will be permanent. He has a lot of work to do, but
he’ll be up to it. He has to be.
Also,
it would be useful if he knew more about her past. It would definitely include a
lot of paperwork and raised eyebrows – what with the restricted files, or even
censored ops involved.
To hell with everything,
he thought as he mentally added it to his lift of findings. He’ll think about
everything later, when he was alone in his home.
“Tristan,
did you like highschool?”
Again,
he scrambled for an answer, “Well, not really.” he said, “People used to talk
about me behind my back and some of the girls were, uhm.”
“Uhm?”
The
girls were really creepy, Tristan wanted to say. And for him,
Valentines was the worst, “The girls were just weird.” he supplied lamely. He
had the feeling that the statement didn’t suffice.
“They
probably just wanted you to notice them every now and then,” she mused, looking
at a honey blossom, “girls like that feel insecure.”
A
faint smile spread across his lips and some of the awkwardness and tension left
him. It’s become really easy to talk to her.
He
responded with, “What made you say that?” And the answer came in an instant;
“I
know how they feel,” a pause, and then, “But I didn’t chase after the guys at my
school. My friends would think I’m crazy.”
The
smile faded from Tristan and was replaced with an apathetic expression. He didn’t
like the irony of Reeya saying the word ‘crazy.’ He just couldn’t stand it.
“Did
you like someone at your school before you came here?”
An
uncomfortable feeling clouded over him, but he tried to reply normally. “A few.
I’m not really good at dating and I can’t figure out what a female really wants
– I mean – well, that was in highschool. I think – I hope – I learned new
things. Like, like these days. So, yeah. Yeah.” He grimaced at the end of the
sentence, hating himself.
But
Reeya giggled. She was facing him and a huge smile was on her face. The light
falling on her made her look like an angel.
My angel, Tristan
thought.
It
was only a moment later that he realized what he was thinking, and he
desperately wanted to gut himself like a fish.
“That’s
a shame. Your fist date must’ve been horrible.”
“Her
name was Arianna.” he smiled, the memories amusing him, “I think I did well – it
was a long time ago, but I remember buying her something. Everything was fine,
but then my buddy showed up.” He gave a little laugh, recalling Anna’s face.
“What
did your friend do?”
“Whenever
we went, he joined. He didn’t seem to grasp that we were on a date and I didn’t
have the heart to tell him point-blank.”
“And
your date?”
“She
was too mad to say anything.” He laughed again, the merry sound cheering him up
even more.
“That
was really mean.” she said, a smile etched on her face. ‘Do you still keep in
contact with her?”
“God,
no. That would be chaotic.” And that was way back in highschool; where the
carefree and the daredevils slowly grow up. But even then, there was the
inescapable truth that some things are meant to fall apart from the beginning.
Reeya
nodded her head and stared out at the garden. He couldn’t keep his eyes away
from her, and it bothered him deeply. Yet, at the same time, it made him feel
utterly complete. He didn’t understand it and that pestered on him; he was one
person used to understanding.
“Can
I ask you something?” she asked again, still staring ahead.
“Anything.”
He meant the word literally. It was one of the most cliché hyperbolas there is,
but the young man would ran to the ends of the earth just to give her anything
she’d want.
Her
smile widened, then she faced him. “Can we have more ice cream?”
Tristan
couldn’t stop his laugh. It seems that if frappuccino was for him, ice creams
were her thing.
“Of
course. Cookies and cream, but back to the room, agreed?” headed more notes to
his mental clipboard. It’s getting wearisome for him to associate what he
should say, and what he should put in his list of things to check on, but he
kept trying. For her, he would.
“Agreed.”
That
smile of hers was beginning to grow on him, of that he was completely sure.
No comments:
Post a Comment