Fallen

"Hey, if the outer core is liquid and S-waves stops on liquids, then how did they know that the inner core was solid?"

Today, for the nth time, I asked you a question again. In reply, you sighed.

"You're not listening a while ago, are you?"

I was. But I'd rather have your explanation. They're much easier to understand.

I just nodded happily and innocently. Once again, you sighed. Even though you look like you've had enough of my question, you still answered.

"It was the P-waves. P-waves travels in solids, liquids and gases right? ...." And then you started to explain using the simplest terms.

"Oooooh," I sang playfully in awe as my eyes grew a little bit wider after you explained. I chuckled and with a wide grin I said, "Thanks for the explanation!"

Tomorrow came and the same thing happened. I asked you question after every subject period. As always, you have that I'm-so-done-with-your-questions-look but despite that you always answer me. I'm happy that you do. I also ask you questions when we're chatting and I swear I can imagine your face clearly with that usual look behind the monitor.

A week came and this was the time you complained about my continuous asking. You refused to answer most of my questions today. You said that it's free to listen to the teacher and I won't die if I do. You told me that I can always search the answer for my questions later after school. It hurts a little bit since you also called me dumb with that harsh tone of yours. But in the end, I don't really mind. After all, you do not know my reason why I always ask you questions. Besides, I predicted that this day will come - the day when you'll explode because of my continuous asking.

I let 2 days pass us without me asking you questions. The 3rd day came and I started asking questions again. But unlike before, my questions are minimal. I guess you can say that "I finally learned how to listen to the teacher". Today, you answered me again.

"What do you call that event again? Where Greek gods interfere with humans?"

"Deus ex Machina"

"Ah, right. Thanks!"

Every passing day, my questions add up.

"Hey, I heard Sir a while ago. He whispered "Lunatic Painter" when you mentioned Van Gogh-"

Suddenly your expression lightened up. As if you're under a spotlight with shining stars dancing in the atmosphere.

Seeing your sudden change of expression, I giggled internally and put on a wider smile as I continue.

"Van Gogh was entitled the Lunatic Painter?"

"You know what... grab a seat and let's begin our long story-telling shall we?" and then you explained everything enthusiastically. Little by little as you explain, I can see the pupil in your eyes almost wanting to take the shape of twinkling stars. I swear I love it when you answer like this.

My questions came out from my mouth without me knowing since it became a habit - a habit with a reason. Days, weeks and months pass by us with the same daily routine and before I knew it, it was already Christmas break.

Odd, you're not going online. I can't ask questions. Actually, I don't know what to ask since our lessons ended in perfect timing before our Christmas break started. Lucky you I guess. I won't be bothering you with my questions.

But I really want to ask you questions. I want to feel your presence. Even if I can't hear your voice as you reply to my message, I'd know right away it's you that's answering - I can feel your fingers pressing on every key on the keyboard. Yes, I can feel those slender, weak hands of yours moving around to type a reply. I still prefer your voice though.