Her Season

I remember it all. I remember it clearly. It was like a scene on a broken recorder playing repeatedly inside my head.  We used to be fine. We perfectly suit each other. Or was that what I only wanted to believe?  I woke up with a throbbing pain in my chest. Trying so hard to catch my breath. Cold tiny sweats started to form on my forehead. Was it another dream? Why does it feel so real every damn time?  For the past five years, this isn’t the first time I have dreamt about him. About us. But the feelings are still the same. Happiness. Contentment. Agony. Hatred.  I took a deep breath as I calmed myself. It was still dark and the only light that was visible in my eyes was from the glow-in-the-dark wall clock hanging alone in my place.  3 AM. Same time as always. Like it was meant to stick no matter how much we tried to move. I closed my eyes again to get some sleep. Trying to mentally count the time. One minute. Two minutes. Three. Four. Five. Ten. Then sorted to counting sheep. One sheep. Two sheep. Three sheep. One hundred. One hundred and forty-five. Two hundred. Two hundred and sixty-three. I stopped not because I lost count, but because I knew it was all futile.  Morning run, that was what I thought. I got out of bed and I decided to do the only thing that could make me feel at ease every time I dreamed of the same thing.  Wearing my winter-weight running tights with a base layer, long-sleeve top, and waterproof and windproof jacket, I put my winter headphones on and gloves before stepping out of my house.  The cold breeze of December welcomed me as I did some stretching. I originated from a tropical country where wearing tiny pieces of clothing at this time of the year was not an issue. But not here. Definitely. It was just like a plain suicide with no concrete plan. I was contemplating if I should just clean my house this early rather than running in this chilly street as I was about to finish my stretching. The effect may be the same. I will get busy. Tried and exhausted. However, there was something about the breezy air that made me cohere with my initial plan.  Good thing that it has not snowed for the past few days. The road may not be too warm, but at least dry. It feels like an indication that life is somehow safe even after any misfortune.  I started my pace from brisk walking to jogging to intensive running. I do have plans to exhaust myself as much as I can. In this way, I can completely forget the feelings and emotions I had earlier. Every time I run out of breath, I change my pace back to brisk walking. This continued for almost two hours until my phone rang. “Good morning!” A husky bedroom voice embraced my ear the moment I accepted the call. “Hey!” I greeted him back, still panting. I heard a chuckle and small movements on the other side of the phone. “You run? In this cold?” he asked with disbelief. It was more like a statement than a question for me.  “Uh-huh,” I can only utter short responses as I am still trying to catch some air.  “Having troubles again?” he concluded. I paused. Trying to calm myself down once more. Seems like the two-hour run goes to waste with that simple question. No one knows my story. I keep my silence all this time, not to protect anyone, but to protect my inner peace. The man on the other line may be the closest person I have now, but I still can't see myself confiding in him. I know he’s trustworthy. I know he genuinely cares about me. The problem is me. Me and my demon from the past. “Just trying on my new running shoes,” I answered, trying to drop the feelings that were starting to build up again. He burst out laughing. So hard that I cannot seem to distinguish if he’s faking it, or if he believes my reason. “Jesus! That was so lame.” He snorted after. I met Orion Hunter Rossi in the most cliché scenario of a man trying to catch a woman's attention five years ago. It was on a plane ride from Sweden to Belarus. I was hoping to enjoy my long trip silently, but unfortunately, the brute who sat beside me had another thing in mind. I could feel his gaze the moment he settled into his seat. At first, I was so determined to ignore him for the rest of the flight, but those stares were just so bothersome. Firmed about sending some intimidating signals, I finally looked at him and glared back. We were in a staring contest, well - him staring while I was glaring, for at least five minutes or so when he eventually spoke up. I was surprised that we lasted that long when I often heard from others that they would rather avoid any eye contact with me.  “Would you rather eat a brick or the matter baby?” he asked out of nowhere. Since I glared at him for too long, I had the chance to assess him physically. Judging from his stance while seated, he probably would tower at least five to seven inches taller than me. With a skin complexion that is fairer than mine, which is likely due to his European blood. High cheekbones and nose bridge, deep almond-shaped eyes, curvy lips, and silky wavy hair. Not too bad. But not too good as well, as I feel something familiar about him. “I’ll willingly eat a brick,” I answered with the same intense glare. As if I’m going to get swayed by his pick-up lines. His lips went from partially parted, due to shock at my answer - I guess, to a devilish grin.  “That works most of the time.” He said almost to himself while slightly shaking his head, but that still reached my ear.  Well, not this time around. I said it to myself before tearing him out of my sight. Wanted to resume ignoring him for the rest of the flight. “You’re alone?” he continued, like an insensitive human being. I remained silent. Should I just watch some movies? Music would be nice too. “I bet you are. Tsk. If we’re together, I’m not gonna let you roam around alone.”  Maybe transferring seats far from him would be a better option.  He finally stopped talking when he got no response from me. But his eyes were still there. I am not even intimated or conscious of his stares. But isn’t he uncomfortable? Does he even blink? I let out a sign unknowingly. That must be a signal for him to continue his monologue. “I’m Orion.” He introduced himself. I didn’t speak. “Orion Hunter is my full name, but you can just call me Orion,” he added while extending his hand toward me. Most likely for a handshake. “I am not interested,” I finally uttered. He gave small laughs. “I didn’t even ask.”   That caught me off guard and made me look at him again.  “Are you interested now?” he exclaimed while smirking as if he had won something great. I shook my head in disbelief, ready to bombard him with curses in all the languages I know when a flight attendant approached our seat row to offer something to eat. That saved him and spared me. I just decided to close my eyes and fully ignore him. But little did I know, our untangled fate was about to start. I was pulled back to reality when I heard a deep sigh on the other line.  “Anyway, I hope you didn’t forget about our flight later tonight,” Orion said. “No, I didn’t,” I answered wholeheartedly, even when I forgot about it. “Good job, Cygni. I’ll pick you up at seventeen hundred. See you.” He didn’t even let me agree and bid me farewell before hanging up. That’s kinda rude. But then, that is how we are.  I have learned during those times that he’s bugging me that Orion is half-European and half-Asian. Maybe the reason why I felt something familiar about him the first time we met. It seems like the Asian blood in us has a strong connection.  It felt like he followed me around my European tour for months and claimed that it was all a coincidence. We even ended up in a precinct due to my stalking allegations against him, but he only proved his innocence. It was embarrassing that I just walked out of the place after I had filed a restraining order. Our next encounter is after more than a year while I’m volunteering with a non-government organization around South Africa. My team had just finished our work in a home for juvenile delinquents in Burundi and decided to eat in a local diner when I spotted a familiar man enjoying his meal at a table for two. My blood started to boil with just the mere sight of him and I involuntarily marched towards his location. “You didn’t learn your lessons, did you?” I spat angrily.  I moved without thinking, which made me regret the words I uttered, but it was too late to get it back.  I lost my composure. I am not usually like this.  I always tend to ignore the people around me. I only give cold shoulder more often, despite my preference to do volunteer work. But with him, it feels like the barricade I built was not enough to suppress my emotions. “Woah, hold your horses, Missy,” he said, obviously shocked. It seemed like he was trying to remember me. “It’s nice to see you, too.” He added when he may have finally figured it out. “Why are you here? You’re still stalking me!” I rebutted even though I knew I was wrong. Just trying to save some face. “Why does it seem like you’re the one stalking this time?” he replied with the same mocking grin. “May I remind you that I was about to finish my meal, which means that I got here first?” I didn’t answer. I just don’t know what to say anymore.  “You know what, you’re just hungry. You better get your food now. Well, I don’t mind being your meal, but not literally.” He then burst out a loud laugh. I could feel my face heat as I turned my back to him and stormed back to where my team was. They asked who the guy was, and I flatly said “Nothing”. Thinking back again, Orion and I made a not-so-good first impression. I cannot remember how exactly we clicked. I just knew all along that the warmth he gave me felt like home. Even if I often showered him with coldness.  He was always there when I wanted to be alone. Irritating, indeed. But he was also there whenever I felt lost. He’s my comrade on this battlefield.