I talked to someone the other day. We were standing, side by side, watching as time landed in little clumps on the ground in front of us. We couldn't really see where it landed, only that it now covered a fraction of what we'd seen. Slowly, oh so slowly, it builds into a mound. The two of us watch as the mound continues to grow; to obscure the blanket of white surrounding it. Once it reaches a certain point, it quickly collapses. Only, not all of it is lost. It spreads out, almost hugging the other ice crystals, and begins anew on the rocky surface.
After a bit longer, I face him. Not quite sure what it was I wanted to see, nor knowing what I wanted to say, I gaze at his form for a moment: slightly huddled from the cold, yet not quite as he was used to it; a calculating look in his eyes, maybe a hint of what seemed regret or longing; confidence making him stand straight. His concentration doesn't break, as if he's done this - been scrutinized - for a lot longer than he may admit... It was on the tip of my tongue, yet I couldn't wrap my thoughts around it.
A little longer and finally, I could speak.
"...Should I do it? Should I- no, can I leave everything behind, even for a short while..?"
Pleading. That's the first thing I recognize in my voice. The next, desperation; a longing to be told what to do. I was just so confused...
The words hang there for a moment. They loom overhead, waiting for an answer.
A minute passes on. I turn, embarrassed. Watching a cloud snake around the moon, I don't notice how his ember-colored eyes darken; how he lowers his hat to shield his thoughts.
"..."
He takes a few steps forwards. His movements catch my attention, his red vest a bit more. It's worn and stitched in several places, not too noticeable, but still there. He's had it rough.
"...You should do what feels right to you."
My eyes widen and my heartbeat quickens. I can only see his back now.
Did he not want me around..?
He's standing there, still as ever. A gloved hand palm up is in front of him, distracted by a snowflake falling onto the black cloth; giving us time to calm down.
Or maybe...?
I make my way up to him, careful not to stumble upon a loose ice-rock. Slowly enough to keep thinking about what to say. I don't notice, but he's looking at me through the corner of his eyes. He takes notice of my heavy gait, already guessing what I'm about to do.
I stop next to him, the pale boy with ebony hair and his trademark red hat. I've known him since I was three, maybe four or five. I can't seem to recall. As if in sync, Hazel meets Red. We don't speak. It seems as if half a day passed by. It might as well have been...
I hug him. His orbs widen, almost as if I'd never done anything so intimate, and wanting it, in my life. Truth is I haven't. Until now, I suppose.
And whispering it for only he to hear,
I tell him,
"I'll be back, so wait for me..?"
A ghost of a smile creeps onto his face, watching me step out into the world.