To Make You Smile

To Make The Bond Stronger

Chapter 12

To Make The Bond Stronger

The cat's arrival did a lot of help with Alisa's recovery. However, we soon discovered that had bacteria in his fur, so we had to send him away to another place. This saddened Alisa greatly that she refused to eat for one day. Soon enough, the bacteria in her room took over and led to infection. A few days later, Dad diagnosed her with pneumonia, and suggested that I should stay away from her for a while. I tried to reason with him, and I didn't come back fruitless. Dad had allowed me to visit her twice a week until her lung illness goes away fully- as she may still show slight symptoms after treatment- and I should wear a mask to cover my nose and my mouth. On one of my visits I would hear her crying- something I never encountered whenever it comes to her. I would go in the room and hug her until she falls asleep while telling her that she'll be okay since her pneumonia was noticed early. For some reason I couldn't stand seeing her cry because it makes my chest ache so much, as if my heart was crying, too. As the pneumonia wore away, her happy self was growing back like trimmed grass after a summer's rain. She didn't cry anymore and was just simply back into her normal self. She began painting again, though sometimes she couldn't stand long enough to finish her work because of the illness's weakening effect. Chemotherapy didn't help her either. It might be helpful in eliminating the rest of her cancer cells and bring her closer in becoming a cancer survivor, but you could tell that her health was declining by just looking at her. Her hair and her cheeks thinned, and she was as pale as raw, sun-dried corn. After twelve days her pneumonia was treated, and a week after that, she finally recovered. Her health wasn't restored, though, as she remained frail and thin. All she ever said was, "My clock's gears are turning a little slower than usual." Dad finally allowed me to visit her on an everyday routine like before.

"Come in," said the frail voice I pray would never go away. I went inside and found her eating greens and a meat sandwich for a snack. "Feeling okay?" I asked.

She swallowed her food before answering. "Yeah. Are you feeling okay, then? You look more frazzled than I am." She reached out to my hair and combed it with her fingers, half fixing it and half messing it simultaneously. She cupped my face with frail yet warm hands. "You're pale, and your eyes are sleepy. Yup, you're more stressed than the person who's supposed to be, Louis. Try and chill out."

I took her hand and held it for a while before letting go so she can resume eating. "Hey, where did you get all those bruises?" I asked frantically, gesturing to the discolored skin marks on her arms and her wrists. "These? They're happening more frequently since I'm anemic, plus the mere hit of my hand on the bedpost can cause them."

I sighed, relieved of the suspicion that she has another medical glitch to take care of. I'm not really interested on becoming a doctor since I hate people that are soon to die, but my father sharing some important medical facts and tricks to me are well recieved. I could actually use them in some situations where someone as lazy and disinterested as me wouldn't know what to do. Say, for example, if a person has dry lips, it means they're dehydrated. If a person is breathing too fast, he might be suffering with anxiety or hypertension. All these actually stayed in my mind even though I'm not interested. "Maybe you're right."

"On what?"

"About me being stressed about some things."

She gave me a teasing smile. "What things, in particular?"

Heat crept up my cheeks at her prying question. "About your condition. B-be privileged."

She giggled. "Fine. I'm privileged." There was a hic in her laughter, but I found it cute instead of annoying, like I thought before. Before, I thought of her as annoying, but now I just find her endearing. My feelings for her, although innocently recieved, were still the same. These feelings made me want to hold on to her. "What would you like for your birthday, Alisa? It's in six month's time, though."

Her head shot up to look at me. Her autumn orange eyes pierced through mine and seemed to look through me. "I just want to watch the sunrise again."

It's been a long time since she was able to watch one. "Man, I need to wake up early again..." I groaned in an attempt to make her laugh. She did manage to chuckle. "Overcome it. It's a trial, you know, to see if you would wake up early for me."

"I would wake up for you." I sighed. "You just overcame a trial yourself. It's a good thing that you were able to battle against the pneumonia the cat brought."

"I think 'battle' is a big word, but, I guess I did win. That's why I didn't cry anymore. It was a victory."

"I know this isn't the right time to tell you this, but I don't like it when you're crying."

"Why is that?"

"I mean, I can feel my heart crying, too!" I covered my mouth after those words came out. She giggled at me. "Don't be embarrassed about it, Louis. It just means that you care."

I set my hand down and looked at her in disbelief. This girl, whom I thought is a soon-to-be corpse, made me realize that I changed. It was her that made me smile, it was her who made me laugh, it was her who made me know what love is like, and it was her who made me know what it's like to care. She interrupted my thoughts by waving her hand in front of my face. "Louis? Louis!" She clapped her hands, snapping me out. "Earth to Louis! What is it?"

I blinked and cast a glance at her. "Nothing. I just thought of how you changed me."

I don't know if it's just me or stress, but I saw her blush, if only for a while. She then reached out and stroked my hair again. "What is it with the hair?"

"What is it with the pat on my head, then?" she teased. Alisa sighed and then smiled again at me. "It's because I find your hair softer than mine."

I looked at her, baffled. "Come again?"

"It's really soft, as if it's better off if it belongs to a girl." She retracted her hand and leaned back on her pillow with a soft sigh. "There are some things you have that I like. First would be your freedom, then your hair." She laughed at this. "Then your height. I'm vertically challenged, you know."

I chuckled at her remark. She was short indeed, since she's just at my shoulder level. "I think it's fine. Height is just a number."

"On another hand, what are we?"

"What do you mean?"

"We both like each other. So what are we?"

I gulped. "Uh... I don't know. Maybe more than friends, but less than lovers. You know what I mean."

"Oh..." She picked up her spoon and began playing with it. "Why is my reflection upside down on this side of the spoon? On the back it's perfectly okay..."

Here we go with her act of changing a serious topic into a totally random one. "I don't know. Maybe it's because it's curved inwards."

She nodded. I prodded her cheek. "Trying to think of a new topic?"

She gave me a smile. "Am I that easy to read?"

"Why? You don't want me to go yet?"

Her eyes practically gave the answer away. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere until you drift off to sleep. I'll be here by your side as long as you want."

Alisa grinned cheerfully and we sat in comfortable silence. "How did you know?" she asked, breaking the quiet air.

"The eyes are the windows to one's soul."

"So you'll stay, even if we don't talk?"

"I'll stay."