Noah

somewhere only we know

Noah

"I walked across an empty land
I knew the pathway like the back of my hand."

"I know this song." Ben whispered behind me while the other players had it enough of the boombox. All the other people had their own soda in their hands enough to fill a full night-out at the beach. Why is it so hot, it's not even Summer. Ben patted my shoulder gently as I looked forward just to see Bran on the other side of the tent. The sudden moment of frigidity under the scorching sun made me linger to the most unwelcomed parts of my body. There was nothing than those brief moments of abrupt longing that made our absence louder than the songs we heard. His eyes onto mine. His shallow deep brown eyes. I used to look at them for a longer time, now we're just scarcely stealing glances.

"You're gonna be the middle blocker." Ben said while he slowly tried to lock his arms on my waist.

"What are you doing?"

"What? Oh, I thought you were up to it." Ben said in a disheartened tone.

"No, it's just that we're not openly gay to everyone. I thought it might be best to just not romanticize everything." I said recklessly.

"Okay. I get it. I'm sorry." Ben apologized. I never saw his eyes crunched in the way it is now. Maybe it was the heat. But maybe it's because of what I said.

"Ben. You know that I love you, right?" I asked him again.

"I do. I love you too." He went to the back as he was the Libero and tried as much to be composed.

The game wasn't as fun as it may seem but somehow having Ben by my side changed everything. Or was it that Ben somehow reminded me of Bran? What am I even thinking?

Bran kept on hitting the ball, harder each time. Most of them just swooped by and bounced off the ground like I was wiped out off my role being the middle blocker. Ben tried to save most of the shots as possible. I mean, I'm not the worst but I'm definitely not the best. Bran's shots had my hands in the worst condition every time. The more I try to counter it, the more it hurts. The last shot had me totally knocked down on the sand, with two of my nostrils running down with my sticky blood and my head as messy as it is. My vision somehow made it obscure to actually see who'd been tending me. I somehow wished it was Bran. Please be Bran.

"You're awake now. Finally. I thought you were going to be Aurora for a second there." Ben smiled at me. He shone with his endearing eyes and his half-wet body. He's been with me to what seems to be three hours of being totally unconscious and that's somehow a stirring moment.

He ran his fingers through my curly bangs. They were barely organized and gritted at that time. His smile never faded even in a bit of a dull moment because there never was one. He kept on— in some way—stroking my head. It felt so gentle. His touch somehow healed in me the greatest burden I've been trying to carry. How was it that even when I can barely see a picture of you, I can recognize you by touch, by smell, and by how your feet would struck my world? As Patroclus would say to Achilles and as I am to you.

"What happened?" I mumbled unintelligible. Ben let out a series of uncontrollable fractions of laughter as he can hardly contain himself from the situation I'm in.

"You just got hit by a ball. But it's nothing you can't handle. I know this shell is as stubborn as you." He gently knocked on my scalp.

"You should rest now. We'll talk later. If you need anything, then I'll come as soon as I can." Ben smiled at me again.

"No. Please, stay for a bit longer." I pleaded this time for him to be by my side.

"Anything for you." He said.

"Hey, I gotta tell you something." He touched my hands. I felt his vanilla coated hands pressing against mine. He went closer. Closer that we can feel our heartbeat jumping off our chests. Closer that we could exchange breaths. Closer and closer and closer. I felt his lips. His tender lips pressing on mine. I felt the feeling that I mostly longed for. The feeling that mostly haunted me. The feeling that I yearned for. To be in love. Again and again and again. But something wasn't right. Something wasn't as it seems it should be. And as soon as I knew it, I pushed Ben hardly enough to make him more confused of the situation.

"I'm sorry, Ben." Ben looked at me again. This time, I saw his eyes shattering. His brows could be painted a thousand times but not this one. He shook his head in disbelief.

"I thought you loved me." Ben weeped as if he was trying hardly no to.

"I care for you, you know that. And I love how you make me smile every time of the day. I love it how you say you were okay when even in times you weren't. I love you in many ways that you were true to me. I love your gestures so unintentionally executed. And I love how those little efforts wouldn't go to waste. You're something, Ben. You really are. But I think you're not my kind of something. And I'm really sorry that you feel crappy today as I am now. I never meant to make your guard down. And I never meant to break that—that fragile heart of yours—I know you rarely open up for someone. And I know that you have been truthful all along. But we're just barely travelers passing by each other. At the end of the day, we'll be on different paths. But I promise you, we'll always see the same sun."

"I know." Ben still weeped.

"I know from the moment on you were in love with Bran. It's like your world shook in those intervals of his existence. I see the way you look at him. I know you like him because that's the way I look at you." He grabbed my arms once more before leaving. Those words pierced me like a thousand bullets. I saw the way he left. His feet were as heavy. He stared once more. This time, he smiled with tears flooding on his cheeks.