Hespero

Hespero

When dusk arrived, she then went to see Callisto at their usual spot. And as soon as Leonora arrived at their spot, Callisto was already there, gazing at the stars. “Do you ever wonder why that star was always there?” Callisto asked without looking at her. Leonora then layed down beside him, letting out a sigh. “I don’t know, but I know that it’s watching. "It’s been watching me here since I was a child,” she replied.

“Let’s give it a name.” Callisto then smiled and looked at the lady. “Let’s call it “hespero.”

Leonora then looked at Callisto, with her eyes filled with amusement. “That sounds like my surname,” she answered. “It is from your surname,” he replied. “I saw that star the moment I first saw you. And I thought of giving it a name and naming it after you.”

The lady then smiled. ‘Hespero, what a name for a star’, she thought. Leonora felt her heart beating faster as if it was a horse galloping fast in the field.

“Leonora, do you think we will still be friends after 20 years?” Callisto randomly asked, not knowing where it came from.

She giggled, “Why does it sound like you’re leaving?”

“No. I just thought of it. We will both have families. And you.. will probably be busy taking care of Felip,” he grinned.

Leonora rolled her eyes, “Don’t give me high hopes, Callisto.” She sighed, “You’re like mom, giving me high hopes of having a cat.”

“You love cats?”

“Yep, it doesn’t look like it. My parents didn’t allow me to have one because I was bitten by a cat when I was a kid. and I bled so much and they went crazy. They got scared thinking it would happen again.” Leonora chuckled, remembering what happened. “But that never stopped me from liking cats. I secretly pet one whenever I’m alone in the street.”

Callisto suddenly got up and looked at her. He had an idea “I’ll tell you what.”

“What?”

“If you confess your feelings to my cousin by the end of the month, then I’ll get you a cat.” he looked at her, grinning. Leonora thought it was a ridiculous thing to offer. But even if she did, her parents wouldn’t allow her.

“As if my mother would let me keep it. She’s very strict. If she says no, then it’s definitely a no.”

“Well yeah—but I will train it and get it vaccinated, so you can keep it. I’ll ask Mrs. Hesperides, I’ll take care of everything.”

Was he willing to do that for me? Leonora in her thoughts. No one ever had the courage to face her mom, not even Isabela.

“And what if I don’t?” feeling a bit challenged, she also got up.

“Then you… get to marry me.”

Leonora stared at Callisto, her mouth slightly agape. The words hung in the air, ridiculous and yet… strangely alluring. The cool night air suddenly felt heavy, thick with unspoken possibilities. She snorted, a sound that was half disbelief, half nervous laughter. "Can you hear yourself? That's absurd!" she exclaimed, though the sharpness of her tone was softened by a hint of something else – perhaps a flicker of intrigue.

Callisto, however, seemed completely unfazed by her reaction. He leaned back, a slow grin spreading across his face. The moonlight glinted in his eyes, making them seem even darker, more intense. "It's a consequence," he said, his voice low and teasing. "A perfectly reasonable consequence for failing to confess your feelings to my cousin."

Leonora scoffed, crossing her arms defensively. "Reasonable? You're ridiculous! I'd rather wrestle a bear than marry you." She paused, then added, a little less fiercely, "Besides, my mother would have a heart attack. And probably yours too." She couldn't help but notice a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks.

Callisto chuckled, the sound echoing softly in the stillness of the night. "Maybe," he conceded, "but it's a fun consequence, isn't it? A little unexpected." He paused, then leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Besides," he added, his eyes twinkling mischievously, "I have a feeling you secretly wouldn't mind."

Leonora pushed him hard, making him lie on the grass. “Whatever, I’m going home. My mom’s going to be worried.”

He got up and followed her, “So are you in or out?” he shouted.

“I said ‘whatever’, Callisto.” she shouted back.

Callisto chuckled and caught up to her, putting his hand on the top of her head, “You’re in?!”

“Yes—Oh put your hands off me! You’re going to ruin my hair!” Leonora shrugged off his hand, making him chuckle. It made her more annoyed.

They both went home after that. When Callisto got home, he was startled to see Callisto leaning on the door. “Wow, look who’s home? Did you have a fun time with my best friend?”

Callisto walked past her and said, “It’s not my fault that she wants to be with me more than you.” he teased her.

Isabela rolled her eyes, “Her parents are strict you know. She is not allowed to date boys yet.”

He turned to her, “I’m not dating her.”

She snorted, “But you are planning to..” she then laughed and followed him. “You are too easy to read, Callisto.”

“Whatever, Isabela. Feed your delusions,” he then looked around and put his coat on the rack. “Where’s Uncle?”

“I don’t know, he left a minute ago.”

He got into his room, with thoughts in his mind. He was about to go to sleep when his father barged in. “Where have you been all day?! I told you to study the book we gave you!”

He sighed and closed his eyes, “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

"Tomorrow?" his father's voice boomed, echoing in the small room. The older man's shadow loomed large, his silhouette a stark contrast against the dim light filtering through the window. "Callisto, you have no time to waste! Look at Felip, he's diligently studying the books his father gave him! While you, you're snooping around town like some idle vagrant!" His voice was laced with a mixture of disappointment and barely suppressed anger. The air crackled with unspoken frustrations.

Callisto remained silent, his eyes still closed, a picture of quiet defiance. He knew the lecture was coming; it was a familiar ritual. He could feel the weight of his father's expectations pressing down on him, a heavy cloak he'd grown accustomed to wearing.

His father continued, his voice softening slightly, though the underlying disappointment remained. "This isn't just about the family business, Callisto. It's about your future. About your responsibility. About upholding the Estrella name."

Callisto finally opened his eyes, meeting his father's gaze with a look that was both weary and resolute. "I know, Father," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "But I can't force myself to read that book. It's… not for me." The words hung in the air, a fragile declaration of independence.

His father's face hardened. "Not for you? What does that even mean? Medicine is a noble profession, a path to success and respect. What else could you possibly want?"

Callisto hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He'd rehearsed this conversation countless times in his head, yet the actual moment felt different, charged with a weight he hadn't anticipated. "I… I want to write, Father," he finally whispered, the confession a breath of defiance in the stifling atmosphere. "I want to be a poet."

The silence that followed was deafening. His father stared at him, his expression unreadable. Then, a sigh escaped his lips, a sound heavy with years of unspoken disappointments. He turned and walked towards the door, his shoulders slumped. "Poetry," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "That's… hardly a profession." He paused at the door, then added, with a hint of weary resignation, "Just… don't disappoint me again, Callisto." And with that, he left, leaving Callisto alone with the weight of his unspoken dreams and his father's disapproval. The room felt heavier than before.

Callisto never wanted to read that book. He wanted to be a poet, and if possible, a politician. But he always knew his father would never approve of his passion. Therefore, he never showed his works to anyone, not even to his cousins, not even with Leonora.

Poetry doesn’t pay you as much as being a doctor, but the words within every line of his poems can heal hearts. Broken hearts, the hopeless people, the unmotivated ones, even for the people who are struggling to make ends meet. The only thing he wants to see bleeding is the ink from his pen and not the bodies of patients. Not that he doesn’t want to save lives, Callisto never got the motivation to help people that way. He wants to be the voice of every silenced person.

As his father left, seconds later, someone came to his door, “Callisto…”