Four hours. Most of my time in the last four hours were spent in a way which people would regard as... useless. I just kept looking at him and I couldn't have done anything else. I was spellbounded by how good looking he was. Everything about his appearance shouted attractiveness in itself. Even though I couldn't be lost in his deep eyes while he was sleeping, I noticed he had eye lashes and eyebrows which anyone would crave. His skin looked as soft as petals of rose and I desired to touch him again. To embrace him again. And then, it struck me how could a guy like him want to spend time with a girl like me? I felt like I was a liability for everyone, for my parents, for Jaime and sometimes for Susan as well, so how could Austin be any different? He deserves someone better. Someone who doesn't have any problem in wearing her clothes, in going out, in loving and in walking. My mind brought images of me going out with him and people laughing at him for loving a girl like me. And before I could completely drown in the ocean of my absurd but true thoughts, he slowly opened his eyes.
"What's the time?" He shouted as soon as he woke up.
"Everything okay?" I asked looking at him rubbing his eyes.
"What's the time?" He asked again and then took out his phone himself.
"3:28," I said anyway. 4 hours since he fell asleep.
"Damn," he said getting out of the bed, "Damn, damn, damn."
"Do you have to go?"
"I'll explain later. Just accompany me for now," he said as he approached the door, furious with himself.
He came back. I was absolutely clueless about what was happening. He stood in front of me, took my hands to help me as I got on the wheelchair and then he hurriedly walked towards the hall. "Calm down," I said. The sound of switches being turned on as I made my way to the hall.
He was switching on the TV. "El clasico," he said. It was ridiculously over my understanding about why boys were so passionate about football or rather sports.
"Damn it, Austin. I thought it was something serious."
"It is," he said, "come take a seat."
I drived towards the sofa and he held the wheelchair upon reaching close to him. I held the handles of my wheelchair, lifted my hips and then took one of his hands to get enough support before I rested comfortably. He sat down just an inch away from me.
I could notice him patting his shoes repeatedly on the ground and biting his nails before he spoke, "so we are on time. Just a minute before kick off."
The players were shown one by one on the tv. Well, there were two familiar faces as well. Messi. And Ronaldo.
"Rule number one," he said, "don't ask me what happened when the game stops for no reason. That's offside."
I nodded.
"Rule number two- If I shout at you for no reason, look at the scoreline and if Barca is down, forgive me."
I nodded and smiled.
The crowd was sick, everyone was shouting the anthem in the instances depicted by the camera. "How many people are there?" I asked out of curiosity.
"99 thousand."
99k people shouting at the top of their lungs. And then the camera ran through the crowd again and the scene was so damn beautiful. What's that?" I asked.
"Mosaic," he said, "the fans are holding up coloured papers to create a picture at which you are looking. Beautiful, isn't it?"
Damn. Red and blue arranged in wide stripes in most part of the ground. A stand of the stadium was holding out the message- 'we colour football', pictured artistically in yellow. Meanwhile, one stand of the stadium was showing off its beauty with the slogan- 'Visca catalonia.' I was absolutely flabbergasted. It wasn't something I heard of even in a football loving country like England. Every player was now in position, the players in blue and red stripes on the right side of the screen. Their shirts had a sync with the jersey Austin was wearing at the start of the day. Blue and red. Barca.
"Visca el Barca," Austin shouted as soon as the match went underway, "Just a ritual for good luck, you see."
I smiled at how naive it was. I looked at him and he was still biting his nails, but this time his fingers of the other hand were crossed as well. I smiled more.
"On the TV," He said and I smiled again, shifting my eyes towards the TV.
There they were, fighting for the ball, running around the field in the throbbing decibels of the ground. Even though I didn't like football, but I knew I was going to give it a chance again. After all, I wasn't regretting any of the time spent with Austin after giving him a chance. I mean, after Austin made me give him a chance. My eyes were stuck on the television screen, trying to find Messi and Ronaldo.
4 minutes into the game. "Where is Messi?" I asked and he pointed towards the center of the screen without saying anything. Golden shoes and jersey number 10. That's how I was going to find him.
"And Ronaldo?"
Black shoes and Jersey number 7.
From what I could understand, Barcelona looked to dominate the starting phases of the game. Short passes and Messi trying to dribble his way through the Madrid defense. In between Madrid would try to attack the Barca defense, but both teams failed to produce any effect on the score line. Austin would be at the edge of his seat every time any team was close to the goal post, once in hope and excitement while the other in nervousness. When I looked at him through the corner of my eyes, my inner self was constantly ordering me to hold his hands and as I proceeded to hold his hand, he suddenly stood up and said, "Fuck." Meanwhile, the commentator kept repeating, "CASEMIROOO."
I realised that a goal had been scored by Madrid and I was stupid enough to ask, "Now what?" and then I realised that it wasn't the right time to ask anything. He looked at me with a face which said, "Are you stupid?"
"The game," he said instead, "is of 90 minutes."
As the game went on, I decided not to talk until and unless Barca were leading. Messi had been ludicrously hurt by some guy in curly hair, but he still took out his spear and pricked it into the heart of Real Madrid as he exquisitely found a way for the ball into the net. 1-1. 12 minutes remaining for the half time. Austin celebrated the goal like it had saved his life, he looked so happy and I said, "Barca is going to win."
He nodded and came back to sit beside me. His hands were on his side and he was close enough for me to inhale his feeble perfume. I slowly took his hand and he stared at me. Totally amazed. Smiled. Held my hand more tightly and went back to his world. Okay, football wasn't boring. Much better than I thought it was and I wasn't bored for a second. Something I would look forward to add in my monotonous schedule. Holding his hand was a bliss. He made circles on my hand with his thumb. It felt like the entire world was at my fingertips. I just kept wishing that no goal would be scored because I didn't want him to leave my hand, not so soon. Fingers crossed.
The half was over. Surprisingly, I couldn't even realise how fast those minutes passed by. Thankfully no goals were scored.
"Half time. Wasn't that amazing?"
"Indeed," I said and suddenly an idea struck my brain, "For how long will the half-time break last?"
"15 minutes. Why?"
"You'll know," I said and got on my wheelchair with some help, "wait here. I'll be back."
I went to my room as quickly as I could, took out my dairy and tore a blank page from it. Grabbed my pen and started writing.
"6 May, 2016
Dear Austin,
Hasn't it been such a beautiful day? Even though I cried, but I don't remember the previous time when I didn't feel the anguish of remorse. Today, it has been so different. It feels like the stone which I had been carrying in my heart has been taken away and that is all because of you. Thank you for making me re-realise what being in a blissful state feels like. So, I write this to you to thank you and also to let you know how it feels to get a letter from someone. I hope this letter can make your heart tickle and make you feel the same way as I feel in writing this to you.
Last time we met, you said- "If today were the last day of your life, would you want to do what you are going to do today?" At first, I couldn't understand what you meant by that and why would you say it, but now I do. I am going to ask that question to me daily and I wouldn't mind spending a part of it with you, like I am doing today. Yesterday, you asked me a question and today I am going to ask you a question. How can you want to spend your time with me? A person who can't even do most of the things without anyone's help. Isn't it hard to handle how quickly I change? One moment, I am the nicest person who holds your hand and in the other, I am the most cruel.
I have never felt better after losing a game. After all, losing the chit game won me your friendship. I don't need more time to decide whether I want to be with you or not. It is my pleasure to spend time with you and to be your friend. Anyways, I love how you sing. Your voice is repeatedly circling in my head. There is one thing which I missed today, you singing for me. So, the next time we meet, I hope you don't fail to fill the void left in my heart. Even though I didn't mention it when I was praising you, the way you sing is heavenly and you are pretty handsome as well. A guy like you deserves a great girl and I would definitely be here to envy your beautiful girlfriend. (LS: I solemnly say that I am not great.)
Visca el Barca.
Waiting for your reply,
Jane."
It took me around 10 minutes to finish. I folded the paper, neatly and because of the insignificant time left, I was unable to make an envelope. So, I kept it in the pocket of my jeans and started to go to the hall. Not a second after I entered, I heard a tune, a tune of guitar and he was standing in the middle, strumming my dad's guitar continuously as he produced magic.
"Look into my eyes," Austin sang in a hushed voice.
"Hold my hands,
And take me over the horizon, over the land and over the sand." His voice began a crescendo at the end, high notes one after the other while his guitar was still being played at a normal tempo.
"We could spend our nights,
Just gazing at the beautiful sights,
Take me through your soul,
Maybe, I could be the one who makes you whole,
Take me through your heart,
For I love to feel the art,
And all I want is to hold your hand forever," He paused, the melody of his guitar was the only thing to be heard for some moments. My smile was the best I could give as it was coming directly from my heart. Goosebumps and wide smile. Meanwhile, he closed his eyes and seemed to be lost in his music.
"Sit with me at the shore,
We could stargaze till four.
I wanna be lost in your perfect and not so perfect parts,
We are two persons with a common heart.
And as long as I am with you I don't desire anything more,
As I love you from my heart's core."
"So just," he sang with his notes slower than ever.
"Look into my eyes,
Hold my hands,
And take me over the horizon, over the land and over the sand."
I stood there as the music disappeared in the air, surprised and awestruck. Was it just a coincidence that I wrote about me missing his singing and he came up with the surprise in the next moment? The universe conspires in a strange but fascinating way. I stood there with a smile staring in the middle of nowhere just thinking how each note and each syllable was out of this world. "It was really beautiful," I finally said after a long spell of silence.
"Thank you." He looked shy.
"Which song was that? I never heard about it."
"Well, I suppose I never released it."
(Did I hear that correctly? Is he a writer as well?)
"So you wrote it?" I was surprised. I was astonished.
"Do you have any doubts?"
"No... I am just surprised.."
"Well, we just have a minute left for the start.. so come and take your seat."
He held my wheelchair for the support.
"Austin.." I said as picked out the paper from my pocket. He came beside me and I handed it over to him. He gave me a look which suggested how dubious he was.
"A letter," I said, "don't open it before you reach home."
"I wasn't going to anyway," He said and my phone beeped. I have never had any problems with spending time with Susan, but god, I wanted a little more time with Austin.
"I am going to be there in a while." Her text read.
***
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Thank you!
Ps. The song is written by me :)