Vanilla Dusk ✓

Half Part 8

Emir uncovered the portrait and took out his tools. He squeezed the paints onto the plate and gestured for the android to sit across him. He still couldn't take his eyes off the streak of crimson on his canvas. It had, somehow, faded into light brown, blended perfectly with the rest of the fireworks.

He finished colouring Shane's face and deepening the shades in his hair.

That day, he brought the canvas with him to the ward for the first time and showed it to Shane. His grin stretched from ear to ear.

'Would you like to finish it before I leave?' Shane had asked.

Emir began to cry. His hand trembled as he held the brush. He didn't want to finish the painting because he knew the moment it was done, Shane would be gone.

So he procrastinated. Each time, he would only finish a portion of it; Shane's eyes this time, his nose next time, and then his lips, then his cheeks, his neck, his collarbones, and then his shirt...

Shane loved fireworks, especially when they rumbled in the air and dispersed into streams of various colours. He thought beauty should be short-lived, just like the cherry blossoms that withered in seven days after their full bloom.

Shane asked for a peek of the half-finished portrait. He began to convulse and coughed spasmodically when Emir handed it to him. A streak of blood spattered onto the canvas. Emir clutched his hand until his coughing subsided. Shane fell back feebly on the bed and shut his eyes, mumbling how he didn't wish to let Emir go.

'I wish I could have you forever,' said Shane. Emir held his palm to his face and smiled. 'I wish, Emir, I could just stick to the vow I made in our wedding. I'm sorry.'

'You'll be fine,' said Emir. He knew it was a lie. Shane would never get better. He soon started losing his hair and his beautiful face was reduced to a skeleton. He was always lying in bed and if he was ever awake, he was coughing, squirming and moaning.

'Remember the first time we met? You were so grumpy back then.'

'You were acting like a blockhead.'

'But I got you, although I wish I hadn't.'

Shane squeezed Emir's hand and smiled.

'Because you deserve someone better.'

Emir handed the paintbrush to Shane 2.0. The android stared at the portrait for a long moment, as if communicating with the boy in it. He added a bold stroke that shot across the fireworks. Wild. Random. Crazy.

The day Shane left, Emir wailed in the ward, refusing to let go of his hand. Joann and Mattie were there. They had to drag him out and Emir wouldn't stop crying until his eyes were swollen. They pushed Shane's cold, inert body down the corridor and were never seen again. After the funeral, Emir locked himself in the house – the house they used to dwell together and share loads of memories. He stopped doing anything, spending his wasted days lying around, taking siesta, dreaming of Shane and flipping through their albums.

Something glittery caught Emir's eyes. He gawked at the android's face, reaching out to that drop of pearl dripping down his cheek.

How absurd.

'You're crying?'

Shane 2.0 frowned and immediately rubbed his eyes, not sure what to make of the salty substance sliding down his cheeks.

'Oh yea, I'm...' The android put down the paintbrush and turned to Emir. 'Emir, why do people cry?'

'When they're said, I guess?' answer Emir, standing over the android.