Hukassa

13. The mysterious guy

Aura's POV

As I walked with Mark in the woods, his vibe felt like a puzzle unfolding, each step revealing a bit more mystery. The setting sun painted the forest in long shadows, making everything seem kinda magical.

While we picked up firewood for our camping trip, I couldn't help but notice how Mark moved like he owned the shadows. "You've got this way with shadows. It's like they're your buddies or something."

He looked at me, his eyes catching the last bit of sunlight. "Shadows have their own talk, Aura. If you get how they chat, you can stroll around in the twilight like a boss."

I grinned, getting curious. "So, are you like a shadow language pro or something?"

Mark chuckled, keeping it chill. "Being a pro is whatever. Shadows always got some secrets, waiting for someone to snoop around."

Excitement bubbled in me. "Secret stories, you mean?"

His gaze had this cool mystery. "Exactly. But not everyone is up for a shadow adventure."

I wanted to know more, so I asked, "What about you, Mark? What secrets do your shadows hide?"

He paused, hinting at some heavy stuff. "Some stories are like VIP in the shadows. They add a mystery flavor to the mix."

His words hung there, and I felt this urge to peel back the layers he was keeping in the shadows. It was like a hidden force pulling me closer.

While we kept gathering firewood, I shared my love for life's mysteries. "I'm all about the unknown, Mark. Feels like there's this secret world waiting to be uncovered."

Mark's gaze got more intense, like he was inviting me into his mysterious world. "The unknown shows itself when it's ready. Until then, we're just grooving in the shadows."

As we kept picking up firewood, I couldn't shake off the feeling that Mark was carrying more than just shadows. So, I mustered the courage to dig a bit deeper.

"Mark, those shadows you talk about... do they ever remind you of stuff you wish you could forget?"

He looked at me, a flicker of something changing in his eyes. "Yeah, they do. Shadows sometimes drag up memories you'd rather leave buried."

Feeling a connection, I opened up a bit. "I get it. Sometimes, the past sneaks up on you, right?"Mark nodded, like he knew exactly what I meant. "More than you can imagine."

Encouraged by his response, I pushed a bit more. "I mean, we all got some baggage, right? What's your story, Mark?"

A heavy silence followed, and I could see the internal battle within him. The forest, usually alive with sounds, held its breath. "When I was a kid, something happened... something I can't put into words," he started, his voice trailing off.

I nodded, understanding the difficulty he faced in opening up. "You don't have to share if you're not ready. I get that some stories are like locked doors."

Mark sighed, a mixture of relief and frustration in his expression. "It's not that I don't want to share, it's just..." He paused, as if grappling with the weight of untold secrets.

I waited, giving him the space he needed. The quiet rustling of leaves and distant sounds of the forest became a backdrop to our unspoken conversation.

"It's like a maze of emotions I haven't quite figured out myself," he admitted finally, the vulnerability in his eyes both heartbreaking and genuine.

I nodded, expressing my understanding. "I respect that, Mark. Your story is yours to tell when you're ready."

We continued with our task in a companionable silence, each twig and fallen leaf beneath our feet holding the weight of the unsaid. It was as if the forest itself understood the delicate dance between shared silence and spoken trust.