To all the ghosts I married

2 : c l o u d s

Leandro's POV

"I.... uhm,"

"I didn't called.... you?"

She said, with a flash of confusion on her face. "Oh," the only thing that I could say.

But I'm pretty sure I heard her call me. And it was her voice. "I'm almost done, sorry. Can you please check our letchon?*"

(Author says: Letchon* is a filipino food made of Pork belly/ a whole body of pig roasted or grilled on a charcoal, but in this cased, a portion of pork belly baked )

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine. Sorry about that." She slowly closed the door, and as she's about to do that, I caught a glimpse of what seems like a woman facing the shower.

I almost screamed my lungs out until the door was fully closed. My breath had been stucked somewhere else, and all I could do is to chase it.

W-what the f**k did I just saw??? Why would a woman be in there??? We don't have any room mates or even a f*****g neighbor!!! How would that be possible???? What if I just knock again and check one more time??? No, I think she's just going to laugh at me and think I'm losing my balls. What if I just tell her? What if--

*ding*

With the sudden bell, I almost s**t my pants in extreme surprise. Oh yeah, the lechon.

I opened the oven as the aroma filled the house. It smells of ham and pork, with a touch of lemon grass and spices. It took my soul and brain back. The pork's skin is already red and crispy, and it makes such delicious sizzle from it's juices.

"Love, the lechon is already ready!" I informed her.

"And so will I!" She said and came out of the shower, hair finally dried.

But of course, as what she would always do, she complimented her own food.

"It smells so great!!! Can you smell that??? Can you smell that? Oh my god, I am the best cook EVER! It's juicy, it's aromatic, ohhh look at that sizzle! Look at that!!!"

I laughed at her boasting. Yes, she's really the best cook, and even my mother could agree. She proudly went to our room to change, with the proudest smile on her face.

I am really proud of her. Because I couldn't even count the times our kitchen almost exploded because of her cooking.

But as time went by, she learned how to cook. And look where she is, boasting.

As I wipe the dishes now, I come to remember what happened earlier.

I scoffed at the idea. My head is just full of these haze and clouds of hallucinations. Oh God, it must've been the stress. I was raised by a devout Christian parents, and grew up on a bible community.

If I could say so myself, I was raised really, really well. And I remember, ghosts aren't real.

And if they were, what about it? They couldn't hurt me, or Hermia. We both have strong faith in God, and that's what matters the most.

She came out of the room fully dressed with her make up on, and she look ethereally beautiful.

"Wooooow," I said while looking at her. I was serving the pasta to both of our plates, and she smiled so widely.

Her hair had been curled, and she was wearing a flowy white dress that goes down to her shoulders. And it was all covered up in yellow flowers, her favorite.

And I silently whispered to the deepest of my heart, of how lucky I am.

She kissed the petals and placed the vase at the end of the table. And then we sat down.

"Do you wanna lead the prayer?" I asked and with her wide eyes and big smile, she nodded excitedly.

"Dear God, thank you for the third year that we are celebrating right now. Thank you for the abundance and the nice home we are living. Thank you for giving me such a nice and wonderful husband, I promise to love and take care of him for eternity. I pray for his book to be successful, and I pray for our guidance everyday. Amen." she prayed, and ended it.

"Amen!" I followed up.

And we started feasting. With candlelights, and soft music. I looked at her and asked her what she wants to do after.

"I prepared everything for us. It's already right outside." She said to me.

And as we finish our dinner, we went outside to see the projector with two chairs and coolers.

She had brought the blankets outside, and we watched movies with cliché endings until midnight.

And when the movie ended, we both watched the night sky with beers in our hand and satisfaction in our faces.

She layed down on my shoulder, and kissed me on the lips. And I know, that the night is not going to end yet.

I am so blessed to be able to hold such art in my hands for the rest of the night.

Hermia's POV

I lay on my stomach as I watch him fallen deeply into his sleep. And I dared to ask myself,

"How does life looks like now?"

Well. Life looks like a tall 30-year old man with minimal muscles with glasses that fits a 60-year old grandpa.

Life is a little clumsy, always bumps into things, and always drops his phone to his face.

Life looks like every nerd child who gets bullied in every highschool coming of age movie.

He is life itself. He is every values I had ever been taught with. He is the bluest oceans and broken lands of greens.

He is clothed with kindness, he is the softest touch of breeze on a summer day, and he is the trees that stands the proudest.

His eyes saw faith in me. He saw and gave me the love I couldn't give to my own myself. He saw art and beauty in chaos, in a way that he saw me.

Leandro means the world and the universe combined to me.

He's head is a full wide library, and he taught me everything I know.

He taught me how to live, and how there is so much more to see. He taught me how to dream, how to laugh, and what love is.

He is my every hope in human form.

I know that he is the only human who could ever love and care for someone like me.

He is the only human I could ever trust and love with.

And if somebody would try to break this peace, I would not mind going to inferno and back to save him.

His every exhale started having weight, his stomach expanding in every in-and-out. And suddenly, he let out a sound.

A sound of a human body after a busy day that finally gets to rest. It sounds both of a wild boar and a boiling sea of water.

As I look at him snoring out loud, I saw a completely empty glass of water at his bedside table.

And then I looked at the clock hanged at the top wall, dimly brighted by the night as it reads 2:04

I guess the pill worked well.