Concrete Amber

Chapter Three

By .Gollummullog.

I brush it away, disgusted

That I've not entrusted

this precious secret to you, when really

I can trust you a lot more

than I can trust myself.

I mean, really? What's the worst you can do, reject me? I'll go back to life with my friends, partying all the time, and I won't look back.

Yep, that's a pretty good lie to tell myself. Generic, overused, but it'll work.

Now all I need is to summon up the courage.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I think I know you, much less

than I think about you.

And I know without you

I'll know myself less than I'll think about you

and I'll toss my thoughts onto

a candle and burn them all away.

Ah, written so like the style of, ah, what's his name? Richard Murphy. That's him. Probably a confused guy, like me: "To think I must be alone, To love we must be together." Four verses of repetition, but not quite repetition- more like an exposition and variations.

I think I'll ask you about yourself tomorrow. Maybe Mr. Murphy has some insight.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I don't want to be cliché

I wanna be complex, complicated.

With all my efforts concentrated

on that which means so much, ridiculously.

I want to brush away the mist and spider webs covering your personality

and reveal you, if only to satisfy selfish Desire living in me.

On the bus in the morning, it's hardly better. It's cold. I'm huddling like I did yesterday, wary of getting scratched again, getting carsick and feeling like I'm going to vomit. For one of two reasons. A., see above, and B., see below.

I think I'll skip last period. After all, you always do. Maybe, just maybe, I'll work up the courage to find you?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

And as the candle simmers

I breathe in its vapors

and touch the end as it tapers

and wax coats my fingers, a shell soon to be broken,

and as the shell snaps silently, my burnt thoughts shrug off ash

and flicker back to life

We're at school now, pulling into that boring concrete parking lot, like every day after day after day, wasting hours of my life at a time. Maybe that's why I choose not to... and skip twice a day.

I mean, come on. Who's gonna notice me not being there? It's not like I talk to anyone, you know.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Desire claws at my brain

and at my heart

tearing me apart

with every talon she sinks into me, spreading

feelings through my body that I don't want to know

a shudder, involuntary flickers of my eyes towards you

Math, math, math. I draw a triangle, and then realize I've labeled the angles with your initials, acute and closed off, like segments of you, not there except for representations... XLL. That's incorrect, in History class, as our teacher discusses the Romans. It should be LXL. Then again, since I don't know you, I would call you Li Xiao Lang, wouldn't I?

I've analyzed you too far to feel like I don't know you.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I close my eyes, with my thoughts rekindled,

shining brightly through my dark

scorching silently, a golden mark

against the black of my mind, and the candle burns

without my thoughts cast away to snuff it out

and it burns brighter, and I open my eyes, and fall.

Kickflip. Ollie. Same old tricks, same old park, same old day with the air too warm and my hair falling in front of my eyes and the trees rustling like they're talking about me. Kickflip. Ollie. Same old tricks, same old skip, same old thoughts with your green eyes burning into the back of my neck and your honey-golden hair perfectly permed and combed and brushed and shining.

Kickflip. Wipeout. Same old mistake, thinking about you.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I feel so sick, the deep waves of color filled of you

trapping me inside my mind

smelling you, I don't look behind

to see the way out I could so easily grasp.

The way behind a velvet curtain, I smell behind it alcohol and laughter

and loud music, and I decide I'd rather be sick and full of deepness

than live life on the shallow side.

I take my gun filled with staples and fire it

at the curtains, locking them shut

hold my breath

and j

into u

your m

world p

Finally. Sixth period. Last day of school... no more sitting three lonely seats behind you, reading the misspelled cursing on the back of my seat, that misguided soul who wrote 'fukc'. The bell. Harsh. Clanging.

I walk outside, 'gonna get some fresh air, guys'- and run.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I need some rest, but my eyelids won't close

they got burnt off by your light

and for me, there's no more night

only the soft warm glowingness of your hope

the candle's still burning

and I can see it steadily going

and I can open my eyes,

finally

to the possibilities.

I'm ready for you to come

and embrace my world,

I'm no longer clamping my doors shut

with an iron bar or fourteen

resisting the abstruseness that's you, my muse.

You're there. I feel you. I can feel you thinking about me.

Now all I need to do is turn around.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I know you know I'm here, standing behind the park bench you're sitting on, your skateboard lying in the dirt.

All I need to do is come a little closer.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Hey."

I'm not sure who said that - me or you? I've got a boiling feeling in the pit of my stomach, closely related to but not the clone of the feeling I get when I do a handplant for eighteen seconds. I decide it's me. After all, my mouth moved. I'm feeling dazed as I turn around and you step closer.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Hey."

I'm so aware of myself talking. I can't believe I'm actually talking to you. That we're alone. Away from the world. I'm babbling in my mind, overflowing with what I want to tell you, knowing you'll understand, but my vocal chords seem resolutely, frustratingly monosyllabic at the moment.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I, uh,"

feel like I've known you forever?

think about you every second of the day?

want to hold you and finally smell you?

don't want to seem stalkerish, but tell you that I've looked you up in the address book?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Yeah, I,"

feel like I'd give my life up for you?

think about what your breath tastes like?

want to press your lips to my own?

don't want to tell you that I've loved you for three years now?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"How do you know I skip sixth period?"

Great. Just put ya in an awkward position, why don't I.

You come closer.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I... I... I know you don't notice me, but I, I..."

am holding back tears? You look so cold... Should I back away?

I don't know what to do.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Yeah?"

Mmhmm. I'll just press you further. I'm sure if I do it enough it'll lighten the atmosphere.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I watch you. I know it, it sounds weird, and stuff, but I-"

Oh, great. I'm holding back tears. Green eyes aimed at the ground, instead of your beautiful amber eyes, where I've always wanted to look.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I know."

MindblanktotallyblankwhatdoIsaywhatdoIdo

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I guess I'll, I guess I'll go now, I'm, uh, sorry to bother you, I just-"

I'm talking too much. It's so awkward. The silence. It feels like even the trees are shutting up to listen.

I turn around to go.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Wait! I - don't go. I know you look at me because I- I think about you. All the time."

Face turning red as you're turning around. Your green eyes staring into mine. Dark green and light green. Dappled emerald.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"You do?"

Whispered. I don't know how you hear me. I don't know why you haven't let me go and kill myself now.

Are you joking or something? Your eyes... So intense... I feel sick at the color burning into me.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Yeah. I, uh, I don't know how, but-"

I look down, then back up at you. Might as well say it, then you can go home.

I'm silent. You're going to say something else. There's a note of finality about your face, somehow...

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I feel like I know you, I think about you so much. There. Okay? I said it."

I'm no longer looking at your eyes. My gaze wanders to your perfect, delicate nose, your perfectly rounded pink lips, your pointed chin where your layered hair drifts.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I don't know you."

Whispered again. Another couple steps closer. I'm standing beside the park bench now.

What a strange conversation. Your eyes are so familiar, but I've only seen them face-to-face a few times... I know exactly what you mean.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I knew it. Here's the part where you walk away, back to your friends and popularity and parties and life. I knew you'd take the easy path.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"But I want to."

You stand up. You're taller than me. I never knew you were so tall.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Sakura? I've known you for three years, right?"

Good. Nice, normal conversation.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Yeah, I think so."

I'm looking at your jeans. Baggy. Ripped.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I know you've watched me the whole time."

There. I take your chin lightly in my hand, stomach burning, wanting to press you to me-

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Yeah. I have. And I realize something."

You're touching me. Oh. God. You're touching me. You're pointing my face right into yours. Your face I've seen from exactly eleven and three quarters feet on the bus. Strong cheekbones. Arched, regal eyebrows. Deep, private eyes. Stubborn, red mouth.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Yeah?"

I can't believe my own daring. We've never talked. Never held a real conversation. Yet here we are.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I think I love you."

My breath catches, as I realize it's true. It's gone deeper than like, or even, as my friends say, like like. I write poems about you. When I sing, it's about you. I always think of alternatives involving you. How have I fallen so desperately for someone when I've never talked to them?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Here's me," I say, voice catching, swallowing. "I'm an outcast, skateboarder. I fail classes and no one talks to me. I think about you all the time, and I know when you watch me, even from behind... and here's you. You're, like, a queen, popular. You're valedictorian-to-be and you go to parties every week."

Cards on the table. Your face is so perfect, from that little nick on your left eyebrow to the way one side of your mouth pulls upwards.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I've watched you for three years, and never actually talked to you. I feel alone in the hallway and my mind always goes back to you. And I know exactly what you're saying when you say you feel like you know me."

Your expression is unreadable.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I don't know how I feel like I know you."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Me neither. I just... do, Syaoran."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"You've never said my name before."

You haven't. It sounds so perfect sliding off your tongue onto your lips into the still afternoon air, which no longer seems too warm.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"No."

How verbose. You're still holding my chin. I reach up and with one hand, take your hand in mine.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Do you want to do something tomorrow?"

I mentally shake hands with myself, but stumble over the words. You're holding my hand. I stroke the back of your hand gently with my thumb, a subconscious gesture.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Yes. I really do."

My voice trembles, and you brush my hand with your thumb. I laugh out loud. That tickles.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Really?"

You have such a beautiful laugh. Like bells tingling in the wind.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"You know, I wrote this poem on the bus-" it seems silly as I say it- "and it says that I see you through a wall of amber."

Why am I telling you this?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I wrote a poem where you're a candle."

That laugh again. I guess you being a candle is kind of ridiculous.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"But I don't think that wall's there anymore."

My voice finally breaks. What a sappy thing to say to you. You seem like just the kind of guy that would laugh at something like that.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"No, neither do I," I say. My voice cracks too.

I squeeze your hand, and before I know it, I've moved my face closer to yours.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Time slows down and your amber eyes get closer, like a pair of suns melting barriers out of sight. I don't know what else to do but to turn my head slightly.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I love you."

The words are imperfect, too rushed before I bring my lips onto yours, not slow or languid enough, not romantic enough.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

You said it kinda fast, but my mind's totally blank now. Brain wiped. Your lips over mine.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Your honey locks tangled with my dark brown hair. Your cheek soft against my chin.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Your eyelashes meshed with mine. Your forehead against my temple.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I can't even tell who's who now. Why should I care?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

After all, what else is there to do but kiss a little deeper, move a little closer, hug a little tighter, feel the bliss a little stronger, and, like angels, soar a little higher?

Lingering, the tear of ice

overstays its invitation

varying its consummation

ever changing, not quite sure of where to melt

Its frosty touch eventually vanishes

sinuously winding to where

Your lips touch mine- and it's gone

Ogling our passion, the candle's light no longer seems

ugly, on the contrary

as the smell of the cherry

not the fruit- the blossom, flowering, shedding a glow on us,

defilement struck down by its waving petals

moving in the breeze

ever-drifting, ever-changing, ever-lasting, like our kiss seems to be.

And here's a little secret: Look down the first letter of the last fourteen lines.

Oh, I'm such a sap. sniffs