Vanilla Dusk ✓

Dusk Part 6

'Kaiden gave it to me,' says Shaan.

Elli stares at the dark bar for a long time.

'Eat up,' urges Shaan. 'Don't keep it. It'll melt in such weather.'

He knows Elli has been saving up all the snacks he has given him, only willing to take a bite when they almost expire.

'How did he get this?' asks Elli, finally crunching the bar. The almonds soften in his mouth and the chocolate melts upon the first touch of his tongue.

'What do you think?' Shaan laughs, swallowing the entire bar. He crumples the wrapper and tosses it to the ground. He walks up to the lake and flops down by its side, patting the empty space next to him.

'Gris again?' Elli sits down next to Shaan with his legs crossed as he munches his bar, each bite tinier than before.

Shaan nods. 'And I have no idea where Gris got all these snacks – some of the brands are so outdated I don't think they even exist anymore. Real treasures to be honest.'

'I doubt Kaiden is buying his tactics,' says Elli. He doesn't really care what will become of Kaiden's and Griswold's relationship. Every time Griswold surreptitiously leaves something on Kaiden's bed, Kaiden will pass the snacks, accessories or whatever valuable items there are to them or simply share them with his friends. Elli couldn't believe his luck when Kaiden gave him a bag of liquorices last time. He spent a week chewing them.

'Who cares?' says Shaan with a shrug, tossing pebbles into the lake again. 'What is love when you don't even know whether you'll live tomorrow? You can date anyone you want today, root for anyone and tomorrow it'll be another story.'

'True,' says Elli, staring down at the remaining piece of chocolate in his right hand – the very last bite. He hands it to Shaan, who simply giggles and snatches it. Instead of eating it himself, he sticks half of it into Elli's mouth, causing the boy to widen his eyes. Before Elli can react further, Shaan leans in and bites off the part that's hanging out, his lips narrowly missing Elli's. Elli blushes immensely, almost choking as he swallows the chocolate in astonishment. Shaan wipes his mouth with the back of his palm and laughs, revelling in the sight of Elli's fidgeting body and beet red face.

'Ren's writing letters,' says Shaan, looking back at the serene surface of the lake.

Elli tries to remember what an envelope looks like. He has never written a letter before, let alone receive one. There was a time when letters and photographs were completely extinct because people wouldn't post things anymore and they took pictures using their mobile phones. They recorded their stories with a digital pen recorder or simply type their recounts in a digital pad. Only after The Great Apocalypse, people picked up their pens again and resumed writing on paper.

'Do people actually write letters these days?' asks Elli, twiddling his fingers. He can't keep his eyes off Shaan's side face. From this angle, Shaan's jawline stands out in the moonlight and his nose appears more crooked than usual. His long eyelashes flutter and shield his otherwise extremely brown eyes.

'Sometimes, there're promises you have to keep.'

'Who's he writing to?'

Shaan digs into his pocket again and this time, he pulls out a folded piece of paper. As he unfolds it, Elli realises that it is actually a photograph. He gasps, suppressing the urge to grab the photograph and marvel at its sight. Nobody keeps photographs in this era. Back when the world was still intact and flourishing, people stored their photos in digital albums. Elli has kept one back at home but there aren't a lot of photos inside. The photograph Shaan is holding has faded in colour, some of its edges creased and missing. Still, Elli can recognise the faces in the photograph. Shaan was much younger then – around seven or eight years old at that time. He had the same hairstyle but his hair was a lighter shade of brown. He was wearing a dress shirt tucked into a pair of short pants, long white socks and polished black shoes. Even from the first glance, Elli can speculate that Shaan's family used to be well-off, despite living in the post-catastrophe era. Standing in the middle was a girl in a frilly white dress, slightly shorter and sharing the very same face. Her hair though reached down to her waist with a flowery clip on her bangs and she was smiling, an arm snaked around Shaan's. Standing on the other side of the girl was a boy with a chubby face, charcoal black hair that came with tousled bangs and slanted eyes. It isn't hard to spot that trademark curl sticking out of the boy's head and his silly grin.

'Is that Ren?' exclaims Elli. 'And you have a sister?'

'I had a twin,' says Shaan, folding the photograph and gingerly putting it back into his pocket. 'Remember the bombing incident in the East coast?'

Elli nods. A harbour in the Eastern region was bombed overnight. The entire beach was wiped out in a flash, along with a line of coastal cottages. All that remained the next day were piles of rubbles, detached rooftops, half-burnt houses and stacks of corpses. All the villagers were decimated in that attack and it was believed to be one of the sparks of the war.

'My parents and my sister were there on a vacation,' says Shaan, his eyes turning hollow as his voice begins to quaver. 'I didn't go because I had a fever. I stayed behind at Ren's place.'

Elli doesn't say anything. There are no tears in Shaan's eyes. He stares blankly into the darkness as he recalls how he received a call and rushed downstairs the day after the bombing incident. Upon hearing the traumatising news, he collapsed to the floor and wailed, refusing to let go of the phone receiver. He almost blinded himself that day.

'Ren was dating her at that time,' says Shaan. 'We were all fifteen then.'

'Why letters?' asks Elli. He wonders how Ren reacted when he first realised that his lover was gone. He can't imagine Ren falling to the ground with a crestfallen face, weeping and mourning till his eyes bleed; screaming as he crushes the phone receiver; dashing upstairs and attempting to jump off the rooftop to join her in death. He smiles every day. There isn't a single time when his lips curve downwards and he's not spilling crappy jokes.

'Because she liked letters,' says Shaan. 'They wrote to each other despite living just a street away. She said people were so superficial these days. She wanted something genuine, if she was going to dating someone.'

'And Ren keeps his promise,' mutters Elli.

'He always does.'

'Seven years,' says Elli. 'A letter a week.'

'Three hundred and sixty-five letters.'

When they return to the tent half an hour later, it is jet black inside. Ren is snoring on his bed, the hem of his shirt slightly curled up as usual showing his flat belly. Elli walks over to pull the quilt up to his chest, taking a glimpse of the envelope sticking out of the downy pillow.

To: Heaven

Attn: My Beautiful Angel Shayla