A
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we belonged even before we knew we would belong.
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We stared at each other in shock. None of this made sense, we were... both of us were... I can't wrap my head around it.
Crius was my first love.
Crius was buttercup.
"I don't know what to say," I admitted. I honestly had no clue what I should say to him. He was this... guy I liked back then. This boy who carried the world on his back and other's hearts in his hands. This man was that boy.
"Neither do I," he stood up off the ground as soon as I got off him, and paced the room. Running his hands through his hair, he looked back at me, the ground space I occupied. Opening his mouth and then closing it, a repeated process. T
There was so much to say yet no way to say it.
"You're buttercup," I whispered.
"You're bean."
"Holy shit." I leaned my back against the wall. Something needs to support me even if it isn't the large man standing a couple of feet away from me.
"You were her."
"And you were him."
"I was your first love."
Out of all the things...
"You were my first guy friend."
He studied me before taking a deep breath. His eyes calculated, skimming over memories. I watched him, fascinated by the way he froze. "But it was also you then."
I got off the floor, rubbing my sweaty hands on the back of my jeans. "When?"
"The girl who covered my eyes for me."
I'm great and all that but I don't know if that was- "Me?"
"I saw you, someone said your name." He ran his hands through his hair, pulling at the ends. "Someone called your name, it was Alida. I remember."
Slowly, I walked towards him. "When was this?"
"December, my birthday. Eight years ago."
"December 8, 2013? That was..."
That day. Dad got a phone call the day before from Crius's dad. He wanted us to see Crius's first runway show. I was ecstatic, more than excited. Not only would it have been the first time I'd ever see NYC and... and my mom. "Holy shit."
"What?" He now stood in front of me, too close and yet too far.
"That was your debut day right? Your first runway show."
"Yes, it was."
This is insane. "Dad took me to see you, he said you'd be surprised and happy. I remember, I remember you and covering your eyes. How could I forget? You looked so different though, I didn't recognize you then. All I saw was a boy who was afraid and shaking. I wanted to help but I didn't know it was you."
He thought about it for a second. "The weight. You didn't recognize me because I lost all my fat."
"That's why I didn't recognize you now either. But now that I... now that I look at you. I can see it, I can see you." And I saw him. The same brown hair, the same grey eyes, the same beautiful smile, the same dimples, the same person.
He never changed. He was still quiet and lost, and yet... and yet I couldn't recognize him.
It wouldn't have been love, then. Because when you love someone, despite how they show up in front of you, you remember them.
Swallowing the dryness in my throat, I stared at him head on. "What's your excuse though, huh? And don't give me the all asians look the same to me crap."
He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know. I thought about you a lot since then, but I didn't know Alida and bean were the same people. You were so impulsive and loud then. Now... Now, you're quiet and reserved."
He was right. Sixteen year old Alida was gone after her dad passed away. Everything was... this was too much for me.
"Both of us didn't recognize each other," I sighed. In my defense, our friendship only lasted a week. Sure, we were inseparable in that week but it was only a week. Nothing longer and nothing shorter.
One week, seven days, one sixty eight hours, and ten thousand eighty minutes.
Each minute was spent with each other that week.
It wasn't only a week.
"I can't believe it," he said.
"Neither can I," I replied.
"Fate brought us back together."
I think our dad's brought us back together, somehow. In some twisted way, our lives were written to meet through our struggles.
"Fate," I repeated. Such an interesting word, fate was the sun and moon playing their roles of showing themselves to the world when it was their time. Fate is when two people cross paths without planning it. Fate is... we're not fate.
We were stars that survived a supernova explosion. We survived and searched for each other without realizing it.
We wrote our fate. It wasn't planned for us without knowing.
"Was I really your first love?"
His grey eyes were sparkling, with amusement or joy, I had no idea.
"Yep," I replied in a whisper.
"How often did you think about me?"
"Way too often,"
"Really?"
"Really." We stared at each other, his eyes looked down at my lips which I instinctively licked. His breath came out jagged as he moved closer. It's too soon for this, he's not ready. I cleared my throat, taking a step back and turning my face to look out the large window. "I called your dad's number when my dad died, but I had forgotten about your dad. No one picked up then."
I heard him breathe silently for a couple of seconds. "I closed that number off."
I crouched down in front of a cactus. How interesting. In a room full of plants that need water, the cactus made itself at home, even though it was an outlier. "Wait, does this mean that my dad knew about the illness? Do you think that day he packed out stuff, he was gonna take us to you?" Crius rushed the words out. They splattered across the room. Both of us were eager for answers, or for something that would allow us to make sense of the situation but... we didn't understand. We wouldn't until we had answers.
"I don't know, it could be. Our dad's were close. They talked all the time."
"My head is spinning. There should be something from my dad that explains all of this."
"We have the letters for now." I turned to look at him again. Something clicked, letters. My dad loved writing letters to everyone, even though messaging existed. "Maybe my dad sent your dad letters."
"And vice versa," his eyes widened.
If there were letters, it would be at home. But home was far away.
"I haven't gone back home in a really long time, though."
"Aspen?" He asked.
"Yeah."
"You still have the place?"
"I have someone taking care of it in case I want to go back there one day."
"Do you?" He filled in the space I kept between us.
"If I had the courage to, I would." I made sure there was still space as I took a step back. From the look on his face, he noticed it too. "There's too many memories, too much of him."
"What if I go with you?"
"You'd go with me? To Aspen?"
"Yeah. We can even take Mara and Hemera with us, if it would make you feel better."
"I think..." He waited for me to answer. "It'd be best if we go ourselves."
"You and me?" He stared in shock.
"You and me," I clarified.
"You sure about this?"
"There's so many secrets hidden from us. I'm more than sure about this."
"Okay. If you say so."
My eyes wandered around the room. So many flowers, so many plants. He took care of them. "Crius?" I asked, staring at a mint plant in the corner of the window.
"Yeah?"
"Since when do you like flowers and stuff?"
"Since your dad."
I turned around. Now, I was shocked. "Why?"
"Because of their meanings." He smiled, walking over to another plant, one I didn't know but have seen so many times in my dad's garden. "They help me see the world, they remind me of how everyone sees things differently. You know what I find crazy?" I waited for him to answer, because I had no clue what to say. "Each flower has more than one meaning, like buttercup. It means humility, but it also means neatness and childishness. Everything has more than one meaning, which to me means never assume anything."
I let out a soft laugh. "Mara sort of said the same thing to me, the whole everything has more than one meaning."
He laughed, "That's because she's right."
Sighing, I looked out. The city was in full motion, almost chaotic to the point of no return. But here, inside Crius's secret garden, it was quiet and peaceful.
Almost... almost like home.
"I get it now. Or well I sort of do, I think," I said.
He knelt beside some kind of box, shuffling through the stuff in it.
"Let's go find the meaning to our lives, shall we?"
I turned back to look out the window. "Let's go find the meanings of our lives."
"Right, because there's more than one." He walked a little further away from me.
Sighing, "And there'll always be more than one."
I turned to face him and stared in shock.
"You had a key?"
He unlocked the door quickly and ran out.
You have got to be kidding me!