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Six Things

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Your hair shined like effervescent fire under the sun. Your laughter was genuine, ad so contagious the wind would smile while carrying your voice to the skies. Gentleness emanated from your words, confidence filled your movements. You seemed so flawless it was actually impossible to believe you were real; I just knew you weren't. And so, I decided to see what lay behind that mask, that beautiful mask of purple eyes and pale skin.

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The sun was barely shining when light steps molded the moistened sand. Clouds were scattered on a sky of blue, pink and purple, as if carelessly painted with oil pencil, and a full moon appeared in the horizon, satellite and star sharing the same firmament. The ocean embraced the small island in its long arms.

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I don't think there's anyone out there who knows you more than me. It all began when we were seventeen, involving a school project, brownies and water. At that time, I would have never guessed you'd become so important to me. As months became years, though, I found myself lost without your ever-so-present cheerfulness.

Of all memories I have of you, I can list six, six things that makes me sure I can never erase you from my mind.

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The air was fresh under the gaze of spring, blowing a salty scent to the coast. Like in an ancient song, seagulls sang with the rhythm of never-ending waves. The last ray of sun bathed the earth with a blanket of gold silk before dying away with the moonlight.

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Number One: It happened on a summer day, while we finished our history project at your house. I remember quite well when we decided to take a break and eat something; there were brownies on the table. I wasn't aware of the layers of chocolate on my cheek, so I didn't really understand why you – with a suppressed smile – asked me to wash my face. You led me to the sink and opened the faucet.

For some unknown reason, though, the metallic structure broke, and water was sent directly to my face and shirt. During long seconds, I struggled miserably against the tsunami like a maniac, but that didn't really work. Finally, you tucked a towel on the tube and the inundation ceased. With a stupid expression, I rested my eyes on you. That was when it came, as sudden as the water attack, a burst of laughter so strong you had to hold your stomach and knee on the floor. And then, I – completely soaked and still with chocolate on my face – laughed too. … And that was the first time you laughed to, with and at me.

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Feet made contact with stone as he climbed the mountain. The road was familiar, yet it seemed longer than ever to his eyes.

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A year passed after my drowning experience, and I would have never imagined that friendship would start to develop between us. I learned to read your eyes and interpret your every gesture, the movement of the hands, the blink of the eyes. You were always there, somehow, talking of old days and smiling that indescribable smile of yours.

It was just completely normal to read a book under the shade of a tree and find you, hands on hips, telling me I was a lazy bum, a lazy bum, a lazy bum… And, as strange as it sounds, it was nice to have you there, scolding me for being such an airhead or waking me up before the teacher noticed something. You were everything but ordinary, and that's enough to make my Number Two.

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Flowers covered the floor in a kind, warm greeting.

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I was a natural skeptic, and proud of it. Easter Bunny? No way. Paopu Fruit? Pff. Santa? (Oh, no, Santa was an exception). You, on the other hand, just had a fetish for these things. So I couldn't forget the day you appeared at my apartment, hands full of candles, telling me that you had to light them in my apartment under the moonlight, otherwise you wouldn't find your soul mate.

Being the nice guy I was, I let you in and, as soon as the moon appeared, you turned on the radio and carried the candles to the balcony. They didn't last long after that, though, because you tripped and accidentally dropped the poor things over the railing. I wasn't expecting you to get so upset – they were just candles – but you did, so I kindly asked you to dance because, hey, the music was still on and the night was beautiful. And it was there, under the gaze of stars, that our first dance and Number Three happened.

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A feeling of bitterness filled his mouth as the aroma of lilies dissipated in the air.

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People say women are complicated, but you were far beyond that. You were so complicated you actually complicated everything around you… And suddenly everything would go crazy; my lungs wouldn't breathe, my hands would become sweaty and my heart, uh-huh, just wouldn't work properly. I was clueless about these new sensations – they were so annoying – and there was a time that I avoided being with you.

Number Four started on a rainy Monday, while I walked home alone. After a long time without seeing you, I found a glimpse of your red hair crossing the street. Your eyes soon met mine, and you sustained the stare only for a second before suddenly running away. Understanding nothing, but pretty aware that something was wrong, I closed my umbrella and ran after your silhouette. It didn't take long for me to reach your wrist and quit the marathon. Still, we were panting and soaked to the bones. Silence fell between us.

I opened my mouth to say something, but a palm came directly to my face and slapped it before any word could come out. You called me an idiot and tried to free your arm from my grip. You weren't successful. My cheek ached, but I gave it no attention as your lips moved to form a simple question, tears pouring copiously with the rain. Why are you acting as if you don't know me? I couldn't tell you the answer, so I did the only thing that was at my reach: I embraced you and repeated over and over again. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

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Long trees covered the moon from his sight. The place had changed nothing since the last time he'd been there.

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After that fatidic Monday, we became inseparable ("Whenever one of us goes, the other follows, got it?") and I didn't mind having the lily scent near me. I knew, though, that things wouldn't be the same anymore – the dysfunctional lungs, sweaty hands and suicidal heart were still there, after all.

Number Five is directed specially to one person: this some guy Riku. He appeared from nothing during summer break, talking to you like old friends and frequently sleeping at your house. That was the first time I thought I could lose you – some guy Riku was just so annoyingly perfect it was impossible to compete with him. It was like an animal would wake up inside of me every time he was near. Still, I tried to control myself and say over and over again: smile. Smile. Smile. Smile. Smile. But the smile wasn't really working out and you noticed it.

So one night the phone rang, and your voice was concerned when I answered the equipment: You don't like Riku, do you?. I couldn't lie about that and I didn't even know what I was saying when my mouth moved on its own and started blabbering like crazy. After finishing my monologue of 'Why you shouldn't like some guy Riku', I heard your laughter on the other side of the line. And I could almost see the teasing smile on your face when you said: Are you jealous? That was an absurd. Why would I be jealous? I started to elaborate a response, but only long minutes of stutters came out. You laughed again: Because, If you are jealous, I'd like you to know that Riku is my cousin. And I was happy you told me that by phone, since I couldn't suppress the smile on my face or the victory dance after that.

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The appearance of butterflies told him his objective was near.

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Riku left your house one month after your call and everything was back to normal. One good thing, though, he taught me before abandoning Destiny Island: he made me open my eyes. And then I started to notice how boys cracked their necks to look at you.

Number Six: It was Friday, and you had almost dragged me to your house. The reason? An idiot who had cut my abdomen with some stupid pocket-knife. You made me seat shirtless on a chair and started cleaning the wound with an anti-septic, all the way reprimanding me for being so irrational. But I hadn't been irrational: there was a guy harassing you to go out with him and, when you said no, he insulted you and questioned your moral. It was just my right to protect you and break his nose. However, you didn't listen to me, and continued to sustain your point of view, asking me how I didn't preview the guy would cut me with a knife after my aggression. I decided to not protest and stay quiet – after all, the one dealing with my injury was you.

After cleaning, you began to bandage my stomach with gauze. You stopped talking, too concentrated on your task, and we fell in silence. That was no good: talking distracted me, and I wouldn't think of your fingers running through my skin, your breath on my back, you body so next to mine.

I had to stop those thoughts before I ended up doing something I'd regret later. I forced myself to stand up, and your protest came immediately – Sora, the wound will open!. I didn't care, as long as our bodies were distant enough for my pulse to become normal again. You, though, ignored completely my necessity of space and pulled me back to the chair. I resisted. You pulled. I resisted. Then, a very unproductive dispute was set between us, and I would have won if I hadn't underestimated your strength.

You pulled me hard, so hard my arm yelled in pain and I was sent stumbling to you. Thankfully or not, we were both saved from falling on the floor by a table that was in the way. My hands hit the wood with a loud thud and my stomach complained instantly. That, though, was the least of my problem - or so I thought - because I could feel the smell of your hair and the warmth of your body against mine. I ordered my hands to let go of the table, but they kept on either side of your waist. The fabric of your shirt was soft against my skin and I was hoping it to be thick enough for you not to feel my uncontrolled heartbeats.

Time froze when I looked at your eyes, a shade of violet I had never seen before. Our faces were close; so dangerously close it was impossible to think. And then, I just didn't. I didn't think before lowering my mouth to touch your neck, I didn't think when my hand ran through your hair and I definitely wasn't thinking when our lips met for the first time.

My thinking only came back when your dad came into the room, threw my shirt at me and threatened to kill me if I didn't leave his daughter's mouth at that exact minute.

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His steps became slower, as if suddenly drained of energies. A small smile was drawn to his pale lips as he walked to her. He placed a bouquet of lilies beside the other flowers, before closing his eyes of cobalt blue. The ocean breeze played with his chocolate hair soothingly.

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I can't forget the first time you laughed to me.

I can't forget our first dance.

I can't forget the first time I made you cry.

I can't forget the jealousy.

I can't forget our first kiss.

I can't forget you even if I tried. It's like you're already a part of me, running in my veins and in my every thought. You are wherever I am, always with me; I won't forget.

...For my life wouldn't have been complete if I hadn't loved you.

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"You've been sleeping for three years. Look who's the lazy bum now".

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Whoa, it's been a while since I've last posted something!

Hope you like this and thanks for reading!