Io blinked; and in the very next moment in which Luka would see his eyes again, they were already the shade of the moon.
"It appears...that you understand me perfectly very well.
And I have a feeling that it's precisely because you say that you never will."
It was as though something clicked in place for the both of them, and the breath of the night seemed, all of a sudden, clearer and almost audible.
Each waited intently—until one of them could no longer contain the growth of something so huge it swept aside his being and escaped through his eyes, ears, lips.
"Can I hug you?"
"Okay."
He found it. What it was.
The knowing of the heart.
Luka might not know him; the workings of his mind and the arbitrary thoughts that pervaded its sea deeper than any other. He might not know what it means to be human, most likely never even considered the thought while it remained whole in the mind of his friend for the longest, longest time. Luka might not know Io at all—
But he knew his heart.
Understood it perfectly.
And perhaps that itself was so rare that it was, already, more than what Io could ever ask for.
*
A quiet sobbing could be heard hidden amongst the trees, rustling in attempt to comfort the one who was in the arms of another. There was an unusual sadness in his tears, a grief so abstract that no one and nothing could understand for sure but for Io, having someone who allowed him space for every emotion—no matter joy, sorrow or anguish—was enough.
Luka didn't necessarily understand why his companion was in tears over nothing. He'd never considered his company to be important to another existence, since that was his case before Io came around and changed his opinion entirely.
In a stiff and awkward manner, he reached down to pat the latter's back. It was small.
Was he crying out of joy? Of grief? Anguish? Was his friend happy or sad?
His first thoughts drifted towards a series of simple emotions. Words that he'd heard very often and read about in silly novels in which he soon stopped reading entirely.
Luka arrived at a very peculiar conclusion—one he thought that no other novel would have proposed or accepted, even.
It wasn't the point.
Whether Io was crying out of happiness or anger or sheer frustration wasn't the point at all. Sure, it mattered but no, it wasn't the point.
YOU ARE READING
Flight School: Predator
Fantasy[Second book of the Flight Series] "More than anything, the sky was red. It wasn't dark, no. Just red." Iolani Tori learns about the part of him that isn't human; and sees the line between animal and himself thin to something less than a thread. If...
Knowing without Understanding
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