Theory Of The Constant Melody

CHAPTER 17

I SNIFFED THE SHARP SMELL which it would have been the thing I had actually got rid of my memory. The antiseptic with subdued unnatural waft contained in soaps, detergent or other cleaners lingered my nostril.

Furthermore, I heard the tempo of voices slowed down as I started to move my body leisurely. Then, I subsided the blurry images that came to my senses when I opened my eyes.

I caught a glance of the bleak white ceiling that drove me to having a memory crash. Eventually, I began to feel the stimulation of pain and discomfort in my body.

How long have I already stayed here?

Therewith, I heard screams in the opposite room which sounded like three kids suffering with illness.

Through my peripheral field, I spotted a torso and head that was nestled on a white pillow while fluffing it as his typical movement when sleeping.

Shortly after that, several loud thuds, groans and cries seized the place that fled me in terror; either one has pegged out or is in a critical condition. Resulting that, a glottal groan was produced coming from Acherous who lifted his head up high to my level.

Forthwith, surprise dawned on his face as his eyes sparked with me and pupils were dilated when he saw me awake. He blinked longer and even squeezed his eyes shut, afterwards clouded up.

“Bro…” he mumbled with his eyes misted over tears.

“Acherous, your tears are welling up. What’s going on? Am I already dead? Or—”

He spoke over, “I almost lost you, bro. For goodness’ sake, I can’t afford if something has happened bad more than this to you. I’ll never be ready for you to check out.” He held my arm and chewed on his upper lip.

“Bro, death is inevitable. Sooner or later, you’ll just visit my funeral and accompany my coffin to my departure…” I replied with a snicker, partly saying that it was a joke.

His mouth set in a hard line then his usual expression turned into a scowl. “Stupid,” he emphasized and raked his hair with fingers. “You don’t know how deadly aghast I felt when I caught a sight of you as to turn across the alley. I was terrified, bro. And now…”

Aggressively, he sat up erect and gesticulated his hand, showing the aversion to most manner with fit of pique of what he heard from me.

“… you’re saying that I’ll visit your funeral… a—and…”

I heaved a deep sigh before saying: “Bro, I am just kidding. Don’t take it so seriously.”

“What the f**k, bro! That was a serious joke. That will be made impossible for me to live without you. If you die, what about me? How will be things going?”

Seeing a single tear rolled down his cheek extended as far as the reality faced me that I made him weep. There would be no difference between Shandria and me.

“Bro, why are you acting that way?” I asked with full of credence that his ways are only a part of displaying the card of the constant melody.

The color drained out of his face and he blanched for some reason neither to be unaffected nor he just dislikes what I uttered.

“I s—should be t—the one to a—ask that, bro. Why are you acting that way? Why am I feeling this way?”

Suddenly, my heart throbbed so fast and a big lump formed in my throat as it hindered me to speak.

“You’re special to me, bro. We are close-knit. And I can’t even afford to lose a friend like you,” he added with his voice recurring to circumspect.

“Bro, I’m sorry,” I apologized and looked away.

I heard him heave a sigh. “I miss your cuddle, bro. May I?” he requested.

I was flabbergasted with delight and I could barely conceal the emotion playing inside my body and absorb it any faster. “Bro, I’d never stop you from embracing me with your open arms.”

Straightway, he sat on the bed with his knees to the side; left arm supporting his upper body adjacent my chest. Then, he huddled his head on my neck and wrapped his arm around my waist.

“Tell me if you’re starving so I can prepare your favorite dishes,” he said under his breath which I could feel that of hot sensation tendering something inexplicable—but there’s only one thing for sure, it was thrilling.

“Bro, actually, I am ravenously hungry,” I admitted that made him giggle for a moment.

He looked up to meet my eyes and sat up properly. “Okay, I got your back, bro. Besides, I’ve already bought—”

“Chicken stew?” I supposed.

“Filipino version,” he answered with a beam and waggled his brows. “New, yet classic.”

“I hope it’d satisfy me or else…”

“Or else, what?” He stared at me long enough to edge out the bedside table and reached out a white paper bag. Then, he shoved different aluminum containers and took those out.

“You shall not engage in any sorts of trouble…” I moved my right foot a bit and attempted to switch my position to right lateral recumbent when resisting to leap at it turned into need of recovery in my spine as it pretty quivered me.

“I rat on my promises, Cyan. Especially now that you have been beaten by unknown group of people. I should pay them back for what they’ve caused you,” he answered with no doubt—nothing began the way I thought it would. He’ll be surely taking his revenge on Forest.

His thermal flaring wrath that seeks to harm as to entail great burden to me presented its huge aggression whichever triggered me practically.

“Bro, for I can only be the person to shoulder this with frozen fury and cold rage. Leave everything to me,” I pleaded.

“As long as I’m with you, you can’t be kind particularly you’re involved, bro. And I have a few questions after you finish your meal,” he said seriously without even blinking his eyes.

“Ache, please—ouch…” I whined when stretched my arm to get his arm, by chance, I could persuade him not to get back at Forest.

“Cyan, you’re not fully recovered yet. Please,” he responded before twisting the cover of each container. “And then, for this circumstance, I measured up for you.”

“Acherous… don’t be good enough just for me. Let me mop up this mess shortly before it becomes prevalent across the university. I can handle this,” I assured.

“Whatever,” he replied monotonously; eyes looking inward.

“Acherous… that signs of neglect and you appeared not to value our friendship we have.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, chancing to have this as a best luck for him to pitch for this business to me.

“Calling me in my real name gets me ease off. What the f**k,” he muttered which I actually could hear.

I felt a stab of hope and surge of happiness. “Uhm… what?” I acted innocently for hearing his phrase clearly than the crystal blue ocean.

“Fine,” he answered while scratching his finger against his chin then looked around the room which seemed to be hiding his embarrassment. “Fine,” he repeated then his stealthy eyes swiveled up to mine and swiftly away.

“Fine, what?”

“Let’s hammer out that I’ll be helping you instead to fix this,” he suggested and eyed on me after.

“No trouble?” I asked for a guarantee.

“For you.”

I COULD BE SO CRUEL. But this efficacy of virtue really fused with my nature. Way back my diagnosis with the anxiety disorder, I had spent too long just to surpass this funk; that would be all gone and vanished in the thin air.

Her silky, auburn hair lies long and loose, shedding tears upon seeing my face as to be egregious. She leaned forward and flicked her hair back over the matte blouse. Her tears were cascading down her cheeks as it seemed to be a fountain that never stops gushing stream.

“I’m really sorry, son. I should have taken care of you—or even just watched over you,” my mom sincerely apologized while rubbing her thumb against my forehand.

“Mom, I am not a kid anymore. In some way, I can handle things like this. Don’t be so worried about my condition, okay?” I soothed and plastered a smile on my lips.

“I can’t help,” my mom reasoned out. She just came an hour ago after Acherous called her yesterday with my consent.

I never wanted to keep this as a secret. As much as possible, I needed to be more open with my family that notwithstanding I’ve been through.

“Mom…” With my free hand, I held hers and caressed it gracefully. “Things could not be better.”

“Cyan—”

“Mom, I’m just peachy…” I tilted head back and gave her a smothered laugh. “No need to worry about me. I let Acherous contact for you to know not because I wanted you to get worried about my condition…”

“If only I could live here in the meantime, I should…” she trailed off and wiped her tears that have been continuously running down her cheeks with her fingers. Afterwards, she pinched her celestial nose and pressed her lips together.

“Mom, I’ve got myself covered. You know me. I’m independent. Besides, Acherous is here. Right, bro?” I implied my best friend who’s been watching us for moments while leg clamping when I took a glimpse of him.

“Uhm… yes. I will protect him at all times even it costs my own life, Auntie Karen,” he promised; his eyes settled on me with a gentle concern which I felt I were wrapped a blanket with his care.

“Bro, you might have finked out at the last minute,” I derided and laughed wryly.

Lines appeared between his brows and he even twisted his lips in annoyance. The vexation was in his eyes; face altered into that vision of dissatisfaction and unrestrained disgust.

I averted my gaze and looked through the slits of the room where the air and light pass through.

“Ah… excuse me, Auntie Karen. I’ll just, uhm… buy Filipino-styled chicken stew down there,” I heard Acherous express.

Through the line of my sight, I saw my mom turn her head rightwards. “Oh? I’d love to taste that. Hopefully, it wouldn’t prevail over my recipe,” she playfully boasted.

I gave my mom a once-over before staring at Acherous who’s looking me blankly in the eye.

“Ah… actually, Mom, you’re still the best cook in my life,” I chimed in.

“That must be a compliment, son.” Gazing me is the best thing that God has given me… from my mom’s.

“Indeed,” I replied.

Acherous stood up and glanced at me quickly before having a gander at my mom. “I’ll just pop out to the cafeteria and be back in a few minutes. Do you need something or want to eat, Auntie Karen?”

My mom looked at him and waggled her head. “Ah… I need nothing. I just wonder why the fate intended the kindness to kindness wonderfully attracted you two. And you hit it off with each other. My son’s lucky to have you, Acherous. May your friendship stay on forever.”

“No, Auntie Karen. I am the luckiest friend he does ever have,” Acherous contradicted with a beam now.

“No…” I opposed. “We’re lucky to have each other. Because friendship is no one’s auspicious, rather the memories we’re about to share with each other… and the fondness.”