Disclaimer : Gundam SEED/Destiny ©Sunrise
She and I
The warmth was what I remember from you. For how long it was, what I barely know. Never, a single time, I calculated the time we had spent together. It just flew by without me noticed.
I love being with you, every time. Talked and listening to your voice which made the birds flew happily above us. The smile you gave with those beautiful lips, a smile that I had never found anywhere. The laugh you showed me, every time the wind blew between us. I love them.
When dark came, you protected me. I had nothing for you, but you always came while everyone left and forgot about me. I had told you to leave, so the people around you would not freaked out—freaked out that you might become sick. I knew that everyone loved you, but my words never reached you.
Once, I got mad at you. You never listened to anyone, so what everyone thought came true. You became really sickand you were out of your mind. Just … just … you should take a look at you condition, not me. You came to help me, though you were in bad shape, running in the rain, only to give me a damn umbrella. I didn'tneed any umbrella, you needed it. You were really out of your mind and it made you sick for almost a couple of weeks.
…
Growing older was time's revenge. I had never cared about her, so she took revenge, made the distance between you and me. I could barely see you for years. The servants were talking about you, said that you went abroad to continue your study. Nah, I should just take her revenge open heartedly as the result of me not caring about her. Also, I should wait for him to come back, faithfully, just like him, always be by my side every time I needed him.
Your life was yours only as mine was mine only. After years, you came with a beautiful woman alongside you. You reached me and showed me to her, happily, cherished me like I was the one and only. I could see her jealous face.
You should have stopped, you fool!
Oh, she smiled.
The smile she gave amazed me. A lovely smile from a fine woman, besides, the smile aesthetically matched for her face. You had chosen a decent woman.
…
She bore your children and I bore mine. I left my broken heart and forgot it, only to see you had a joyful life with your small family. It somehow healed my wounds.
…
The midnight changed and the children gave birth to another lad. However, the sky turned grey as if it was going to cry. Men in blacks came. Heaven missed you. Yet, I could only stand here, watching them sent you off. I completely stuck here. It was … way more painful than to see you married that woman. Even though you were with your new family, I could still see you every time. While this time I had lost you. I had lost my felicity.
It might also be my time.
I had lived for too long.
I wish I could meet you again, in the time where I could touch you and talk to you on my own.
…
Time continues to evolve. Ever changing situation effects how people react to each other. Ups and downs come as they like, making the life of people more colorful and time gives those chances.
People often forget that time has a big role in their life. Regret always comes later. That's why she is here, watching every moment in her life. Watching people come and go, interacting, laughing, and crying. She writes all of her experience in a book, hoping that people can be more grateful with their life.
While her eyes observe her surrounding, her hand cannot stop ticking on the table and her mind keeps searching for the words she can write in her notebook. Her mind is full of the ideas for her books.
"May I sit here?"
She is startled. She is too focused. She does not notice that there is a man with midnight hair comes and asking permission to sit in the same table with her. His hand holds a white cup which has a strong smell of coffee.
"O-oh, sure."
He sits after he gets the permission from her.
She takes back her attention to her note, looking for the words that she was going to write before. Yet, the words cannot be found nowhere in her mind. She scratches blonde locks with the pencil in her hand, roughly.
She puts her pencil. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and forces it out of the lungs, wishing that her ideas come back to her mind.
She is focused now.
NOT.
"Hibiscus. What a beautiful flower." He murmurs as he looks at the red hibiscus in her back, but quiet loud to distract the person in front of him.
"Damn!"
The man closes his mouth, aware that his dumb action has disturbed the woman in front of him.
The expression on the man's face makes her feel guilty for cursing. It is just her habit. It comes out if the ideas resisting to come out of her mind. But, part of it is also his fault. Despite that, the amount of guilt she has is bigger that the annoyance.
"Sorry."
"Sorry."
They say at the same time, then look at each other and laugh.
"I'm sorry for disturbing you, miss, sitting and talking as I like."
She sighs then shakes her head slowly, "It's not miss, it's Cagalli." As she straightens her back, she continues, "It's not your fault that you didn't get any empty table to sit on. It's Friday and everyone knows what it means."
"Yeah, a good time to have a brawl." His eyes are sweeping the café, observing the crowd. "But, why in a coffee shop?"
"Well, everyone has their own taste, right?" She tilts her head slightly, waiting for him to respond and look at her. When he finally notices her, she continues her talk, "But, saying it as brawl is a bit harsh, isn't it?"
He chuckles. "That's a habit of mine that was given by a friend."
"Oh … must be a really dear friend." She teases and they laugh, again, together. Nothing's really funny, but she doesn't know why she is laughing with a stranger who took her ideas away.
"You seem to be here often, miss Cagalli?" He asks, half asking, half teasing.
"Me? I'm a regular here. I'm here to search for ideas." She answers as waving her half-full notebook. Again, she wonders why she is being friendly with a stranger, teasing each other like they are a long time friend.
"Ah, so, you are a regular …."
"So, are you not a regular?" Cagalli twitches her eyebrows.
"No, I'm not."
"Then, why do you know I'm here often?" She asks out of her curiosity. She should not mind anyone business, but ….
"I'm not a regular here, but I, somehow, will come here, at least, once a week," He points a big red hibiscus hedge placed right in the back of Cagalli's chair, her eyes follow where his index finger point to. "To see that."
"That beautiful flower has attracted me to come here." His lips curved. "For me, it's relaxed to see that while sipping a cup of hot coffee."
His eyes shine in amazement, yet emerald mixes with blue. "My family has a garden for this flower. So, that's why there is this nostalgic feeling when I see that flower."
She nods. She can feel his emotions. No, it's not because she is attached by him; it is because she has experienced the same feeling as him. However, it's the time to say nothing and listen to him. Listen to every word that comes out of his mouth. Maybe it can be one of her idea, hopefully.
As the conversation continues, they cannot hold the time to stand still. The clock keeps ticking. The moon moves from west to east, chasing the sun to get its light. Empty cups are forgotten. Notebook and pencil are being kept, safe in the bag like a mother's womb. Customers start to leave, leaving a couple of stranger alone in the corner. Waitresses clean the tables and chairs are put onto them. Yet, still, the couple is still enjoying the conversation they have, until the café says that it is closed.
"Let me accompany you to your home." He says before saying good-bye.
She waves her hand, signaling not to worry about accompanying her to go home. "It's okay. My apartment is nearby, just 4 building from the junction."
He shrugs. "If you say so, then …."
They bid farewell to each other, splitting their ways at the junction.
"Cagalli!" He shouts from the other side of the road. She turns her body in respond to his call.
"Friday!"
"Everyday." She clarifies.
…
Typing the word in a laptop is faster than to write on a paper, but for her it's more enjoyable to write in a paper than to type. Typing, sometimes, makes her forget the words that she has written and it's all too serious, the words are the same, while on a paper, she can scribble, make a note with unique shape.
While she loses in thought, someone puts a cup of coffee in her table. She looks at the person who put it. Her eyes are hooded, but curve is slightly drawn on her face.
"Who are you?" She asks, mocking the man who just comes.
"Hello, I'm Athrun Zala. May I sit here, miss?"