“So how's art school?” Pyre prompts and looks up at the taller male. His long curly hair was tied back into a bun despite the cold weather. Apparently, Pyre's metabolism is doing a good job because eventhough the algid air nips along his nape, he doesn't even shiver in the slightest bit.
Reve looks down at him for a moment, delving into the calming brown of his eyes before sighing and averting his eyes. “I don't regret ever pursuing art, but the people I get to be associated with never change, really. They're a bunch of cretins. Only a handful aren't.”
Pyre stares at him for a moment, contemplating if it's suitable to lighten up the mood, or to let the other wallow in his thoughts before cracking something witty in an attempt to give an advise. He figures the first option isn't bad but with that big dramatic sigh, which Reve's been doing often, the second option seems to be favorable.
Pyre sighs quietly and pats his back even if it had required him a bit of an effort to reach the top of one of Reve's shoulders. “It's always tough at the start, but when you pull through and get to the top... Those louts will be sorry for their asses that they maltreated you before.”
Pyre says that with such conviction that Reve's head snaps towards his direction. Reve has always known him to be incredibly mellow. It's either Pyre doesn't care or he's too tired to bless the loats his precious time to even bother. But with this sudden spunky although admittedly effective incitation, he couldn't help but feel taken aback.
Reve momentarily stops in his tracks, and Pyre does too. They do this staring game again, just because Reve is fond of it and likes to incorporate suspense in normal conversations. “Well would you look at that, when will the Ayllens ever fail to surprise me?”
Pyre honestly takes a while to process what's going on, and gives out a chuckle when he's collected himself. “Well, what'd you expect? We're not your usual generic family.”
“That was the best pep talk I've ever had in the 22 years of my life. Well said and agreed.”
They look at their boots, shaking their heads as they let out fits of giggles. It feels so sentimental, this moment that they've gotten theirselves into. What's left of the sun's glory screens past the clouds now, gracing across their faces like body paint and they promptly close their eyes at the warmth against their skin.
Everything is so serene. Like silence was healing from this cacophonous mess of a world. Reve wishes to stay in this moment, maybe take off to a run— running as hard as his legs can carry him, descry a universe that's beyond the place he's left behind. He wants to lose himself in the burn of his lungs, the brisk beating of his heart and everything else that will remind him of how real this is.
But Reve is in denial of this poetic sap of a person he secretly is. He breaks the trance and turns to Pyre, takes a moment to just appreciate the softness of his features while he had his eyes closed, a small smile gracing his lips. Reve smiles, pokes Pyre's shoulder and sprints off.
“Last one to reach your house gets to watch the Kazoo videos on loop for 5 hours next hang out!” he yells.
Pyre was perplexed for a minute but smirks after a while. “Oh no you don't!” he vociferates and scampers along.
They completely forget about the pizza and donuts that was inside the plastics that they were carrying. The bottles of their chosen drinks were clanking against each other in every stride Reve takes.
Maybe it's the person that you're with that makes the moment matter. Yes, the ambience, sceneries and general setting of the memory are just variables that make and complete the general equation. But essentially, it's the person we share it with. The connection, that spark, that in-depth realization that we aren't alone and we have so much to share and impart is what makes memories worthy to remember.
Incipience
Mulai dari awal
