Evangeline || H.S.

January, 20th, 2014

Harry–

'Words.

I always thought words could act as anything we want it to be; that our own minds and imagination can force the words we speak or write down to transfigure into the things we crave the most, whether for different or similar purposes. I always believed that words could carve your ambitions; that words can either destroy or remedy you.

A doctor who wants to heal his patients would transform his spoken words into medicines which could cure. A warrior who seeks victory would transform his words into swords which could either kill or protect his beloved land. An adventurer who goes on risky journeys would transform his words into a binocular which could be able to find a place for safety. A dictator who seeks power and order would transform his words into laws which could strictly rule people. A poor man would transform his words into saddening pleas in order to make people's hearts awe for him so that he could benefit form them. An author would transform his words into anything and everything to reach the reader's heart and soul.

But a lover, no matter who he is; a doctor, a warrior, an adventurer, a dictator or even an author, cannot and won't be able to transform his words into anything beneficial when he is standing before his beloved. Even if that lover prepared a speech full of beautiful and touching words in order for him to tell his feelings for his beloved, if he stood before them, all the memorized words would vanish into thin air and turn into burnt ash; into a void of nothingness as his mind buzzes while it keeps searching for anything appropriate to say.

Standing before her, I feel like my mind accidentally forgets all the vocabularies it once consumed, like my mind melted and my heart stopped pumping blood over to it. I feel like I am falling in an abyss of forgets; a dark place where my words cannot help me. And for such thing, eye-locks were created. Because when the mouth can't let out the words we want to say, sometimes the eyes say them all; without even noticing. Because when you stand before your lover, and you stare into their eyes, you find that they receive every single syllabus you wanted them to hear coming out of your mouth. Because that's what love is; it's a disease which affects words.

Love is words' cancer, and for that cause I hate love. But even when you hate love, deep down; deep, deep, down; you don't.'

I stood before the oven, waiting for the alarm to go off, signaling that the chicken was done. While I was waiting patiently, I strode over to where the rest of the side dishes lied, checking if they rotted or something harmful affected them. Luckily, nothing happened to my dishes. I heard Evangeline's snort from behind me as she patted my back merely, letting out a chuckle afterwards. Amused, I turned around to face her, finding a surprised expression drawn upon her face. I cocked one of my eyebrows at her, mentally asking her what was wrong. She eyed me up and down before chuckling yet again and striding to where one of the stools was, taking a seat on it and facing me.

"I suppose your appearance says that you find my pink apron somewhat fashionable?" She commented sarcastically, widening her eyes as she took a bite from the peach she was holding in her hand.

I looked at the pink apron I was wearing before rolling my eyes, facing her. "For your information, I find pink a really sexy color." She laughed too hard that she almost spitted the chews of peach inside her mouth. Removing her hand from upon her mouth, she darted me a grin which I returned with an even wider one.

"I'll write that down." She spoke, winking afterwards.

I bit my lip, "I bet you would."

She hopped off of the stool, walking over towards the oven and looking at it. After realizing that the oven's door wasn't a see-through, she got up and faced me, throwing the peach seed in the trash during. She walked over to me, a smile plastered across her insanely beautiful face. When she was a foot afar from me, she managed to throw her arms around my neck, pulling me closer to her. I snickered, wrapping my own arms around her waist.