He reminds me how to write again

The set of brows compliment the pair of eyes. They are alluring.

The arch of his brows screamed seriousness. It was full of pride that any strangers would consider it as overbearing. It was irritatingly challenging. The pair looked somewhat familiar at a first glance, until his lower face was unmasked—it was totally an unknown face.

The eyes lingered around with no intention to rest. They were looking everywhere and seemed having no absolute point to focus on. They were full of everything chaotic and urgent emotions with nil compassion. There was no moment of interlocking with those pair, not even a slight.

Hours in until the very few minutes to part, the pair of eyes finally lighted up and seemed aware of the surrounding. The set of brows finally relaxed and out of the emotional bound. They were pleasant.

The few seconds stares with full of warmth knocked off the hours of unfriendly gazes—they surely reminded me how to write again.

He has found the answer

She heads through the door trembly.

There is something about her. It catches his attention straight away. It is a relieved that he is still with his mind. Unlike the days when he had to put in and top up caffeines into his favourite cup for several times. Apparently, the caffeine is not helping him to stay still in front of his desk to finish what he has started.

It is hard to see through the glass when the reflected lights win over his sight. It pains his eyes. He tries to find the right arm of his glass and lifts it up. As if he can make the pain any lesser, and it does, with a little bit of rubs on his right eye and a few pinches on the bridge of his nose.

The traffic is purely at ease that night. He observes the humans of his town crossing the road and passing by the street. There is something about the condition that simply makes him very pleased.

He turns around and grabs his jacket from his chair. He checks out himself on the mirror before he is devoured into the dark after he passes the door.

♠

The bell on the door amuses him, as if he is always welcomed to come over. He sees the familiar eyes on the counter and reaches over. He orders as what has he been ordering for the past few months and tries to find the best seat next to her.

♠

"I live upstairs."

"So you saw me."

"Quite a few times."

"This is my aunt's."

"Oh."

"I saw you too."

"You seems nothing but green."

"I just love green."

"And why is that?"

"It just happens."

♠

For the last time, he splashes the water onto his face and then stares at his reflection on the mirror. The same man, the same figure. For a few seconds, the mirror is accumulated and covered by his breath of sigh. He seems loosen.

It is a different night. He wonders if the caffeine can put him on relax just as how he is in the exact possession right now. The meet was brief. The talk was short. It taught him something, nonetheless. Voluntarily, he is slowly engulfed in his dream.

He has found the answer.

Footsteps

I thought I left some footsteps to be noticed by you last night.

No, I'm really sure I had. Well, it looks like you saw it. Bummer, you scrubbed it off as if I never came. The views are just clean, you did a pretty good job at putting things back. As if it never happened. Even a little tiny hints of it, they were all gone.

Twice it happened. Maybe if it's for the third, if it's just the same again, then I'm done. But I think maybe two is already a good indication. A confirmation.

It is such a distasteful that you're coincidentally being luckless right after I decided to come visibly appear. I thought of giving myself a savour of satisfaction after your latest unfortunate event hit, because I was feeling extremely challenged by your pride. It did torture me a lot, you have to know. But no, it'll even puts me under the depth of shame if I'm being delightful for someone's misery.

I doubt if I will ever come again. At least you know I was there.

I have liked you since

Remember when you had me knocking at your door but you pretended to hear nothing? I kept leaving and coming for you. It was funny that you didn't know I could look you from the tiny part of the glass wall that failed to be covered fully by the solid-coloured wrappers. For your information, I saw you, and you just sit there dumbly.

I always had a hard time every time I tried to think what mood you would be in on the days I had to see you. I would feel scared for the rest of the time with you when you're not in the good one, because you would drag everyone to be knocked off by your anger.

Once, there was a girl begging for whatever it had to do with you. You pitched your voice high and convinced her that you could do nothing about it. The girl must be very hurt as she said she wanted no one but you. But, you pushed her out. Yet, you still had me at your explanations.

You set up everything as if other's voice doesn't matter. You seemed doesn't care about the hows, as long as the goal you've been aiming could be achieved. I thought it was very selfish of you to ignore the reasoning behind their doubts on the hows. Yet, you fixed the durations for the validity, so that they had to do it for whatever it takes. I hated you since.

It was an exciting day. I had let myself enjoying the pleasant vibes of the beach with you and the others. But first, you had to nag. Until then you were okay to release me and the others out of the unshaded spot, it was very hot. Much minutes later, someone was excitingly calling you for when he thought he saw something that you ever explained us on. You seemed furious. You seemed very pissed with what I could infer as worry. I thought I saw another part of you, I hated you less since.

It was the day. I didn't know if I could ever see you again. I wished I could do the best for the very last time with you. You seemed very pleased for the rest of the time of that day. You said nothing but words of an indication of approval. It was very nice of you. 

Remember when you said you really appreciate the efforts?—

—I have liked you since.