Chapter Text
It was a coincidence, an encounter that had happened by accident. Despite the years, Apo still remembered it as if it were the beginning of a tale, shocking and mysterious, one of those whose first words could suck you into the depths of the story.
It had rained that day as if the sky was going to fall. The clouds were so gray that, even though it was daytime, it was easy to get confused whether it was early morning or late afternoon. Classes at the university had ended, and he had left exhausted with hundreds of thoughts running through his head, some less pleasant than others.
Back then, Apo got into trouble quite easily. If someone picked on him, he would not stand idly by and chose to respond just as aggressively. If they said hurtful things to him, he would defend himself with crudeness and vulgarity, never allowing himself to be minimized. The problem aroused, though, when the words turned into fists, and he often ended up badly injured.
"Could you be more careful? It hurts," he had complained, holding his hand to his temple, swollen and split. His left eye closed in pain.
Jeff snorted, roughly breaking through and putting the ointment-laced cotton swab back over the wound. "Does it hurt? That's what you should have thought before beating the crap out of New. How long are you going to continue to rebel against everything you dislike? You should be more tolerant, and, let me tell you, there are also more pacifistic ways to do it," he had remarked pushing his forehead again and again. Apo had looked at him sulkily, crossing his arms.
It happened a lot. If it wasn't Jeff dragging him by the arm to get him away from others, it was him playing as nurse; and while he appreciated everything he did for him, he was aware that it wasn't fair that he had to deal with his issues. Apo sighed, labeling himself a hopeless case. It was difficult to control impulsiveness and not let himself be driven by what his heart felt, which resulted in Jeff saying that he had his brain everywhere but where it should be. He was an idiot.
He touched his band-aid which, even with the rain, hadn't come off. He walked leisurely to the bus stop, taking his time despite the weather. He was completely soaked and was no longer making a big deal about it. In a way, he felt like a little stray animal wandering the streets. It used to be fun, walking wherever his legs directed him.
So engrossed was he in his own thoughts that when someone bumped into his arm, he lost his balance easily. He went straight to the ground, trying to lessen the fall by putting his palms at his sides. The impact was painful, and Apo turned upward and saw the boy who had hit him rushing back to him.
"I'm so sorry," he said hastily, giving him a hand to help him to his feet. "Are you all right?" Apo pushed it aside gruffly and stood up himself, annoyed. The boy was unfazed and, instead, directed a smile at him. " It seems you're fine."
That was the first time, Apo recalled, he had seen him. It was a first impression he would never forget regardless of time. Occasionally, he liked to wonder which had made more of an impression, the bouncing off the ground from a clueless, green-clad stranger, or the smile he had directed at him in spite of his rebuff. That smile, he recognized a little later, had awakened a sensation that at that moment he didn't know how to explain.
Apo grunted. "I've fallen and scraped, I don't think in my dictionary that can be defined as being fine," he replied harshly. He regretted it, however, when he saw the smile fade. The boy hesitated, looking away and biting his lips. Nervous, he assumed.
"I'm really sorry," he murmured. It was a psychedelic scene for the two of them to be standing on the sidewalk when everyone else was continuing to walk to find a shelter. Apo shook it off, reconsidering his stance. He had already fought, Jeff had scolded him, and all he wanted was to go home. A hot shower, dry clothes and throw himself on the bed to watch a movie.
"Forget it," he uttered, exhaling and shrugging, trying to play it down. "I accept your apology, so forget I said anything." Apo was about to resume his way, but stopped when he heard the boy make a slight whimper. He stared at him, raising an eyebrow questioningly.
A slight blush, of embarrassment perhaps, ran across his cheeks. Apo found him adorable. He appreciated how cute he was being with his head down and his hands squeezing the handle of his umbrella. He hesitated. He saw his eyes flick from right to left, pressed them together and held out his arms awkwardly towards him. "You can take it!" he exclaimed in a slightly higher pitched voice than he had been using. "You don't have one, you're getting wet. You can take it!"
Apo grinned sideways, amused by the unraveling of the situation. "I don't need it," he replied pushing the handle back towards the boy. "I'm already wet, you're not yet. Keep it."
The boy shook his head vehemently. "No," he said stubbornly. "I made you upset, that's not right. I don't like to see people upset, life is too short to spend it sulking; besides, it was my fault for not watching where I was walking, so please accept it as a gesture of apology." Apo gaped, truly shocked, and burst out laughing. A laugh that rose above the noise of the rain and made him feel much lighter. He laughed for seconds, or maybe minutes. He laughed until his lungs begged for air and his stomach began to ache.
"But what are you saying?" he asked with amusement still drawn on his features. "God, you made me laugh. That was totally unexpected," he confessed with a smile dancing on his lips.
The boy smiled back. A bigger one than before, and Apo felt happy. It was extremely beautiful, and he could perfectly compare it as if the rain had stopped and the rainbow had come out; a bright sun among the white clouds. "You have smiled," he expressed joyfully. "That smile looks better on you than the previous one you had put on. I hope you can smile like that all your life. Smiling gladdens the heart, I recommend it."
He wasn't sure what kind of expression he had made, but the boy extended his lips even wider. "All right," was all he managed to utter.
"Take it." He forced the umbrella into his hands. The rain stopped falling on him as the boy was instantly drenched. "Remember to stretch those muscles," he pointed at it with his fingers as he walked away. "Don't forget it!" he shouted in the distance.
The warmth that embraced him afterwards, even to this day continued to exist.
***
He had never realized it, hadn't had the faintest idea until, months after the rain incident, that boy who had smiled at him melting him to the core, appeared in front of him in one of the busiest hallways of the university.
Apo giggled every time he reminisced about the juggling he had to do to find out that his name was Mile and that he was studying at the Faculty of Journalism and Mass Communication. From that moment on, he took every opportunity to stare at him from afar. He never dared to speak to him, or even get close enough to be noticed by chance. Nothing. Apo had limited himself to looking for him when he walked, and to hide carefully just to hear his voice.
It became a routine, and he learned a lot of things. His modulations when he spoke, the delicate movement of his limbs, his different facial expressions. His tastes in food, the kind of clothes he wore, what he liked to do, and the places he frequented. Everything stuck in his memory. It was truly remarkable that the music room was where he regularly used to be, and where Apo would sit behind the window overlooking the garden and listen to him for hours until he was finished. Apo would close his eyes and let himself be carried away by the music produced by his fingers sliding against the guitar strings. It was wonderful, and he had no words to describe all the sensations that coursed through his body.
"Do you think I'm scary?" he once asked Jeff as, from three tables back, he watched Mile eat. "I feel like I've become some kind of stalker."
"What I think," he said pointing his fork at him, "is that you've fallen in love and haven't the slightest clue of how to behave." Apo flinched at his response, and his heart began to race. Why, he wondered, was it pumping so hard?
He denied quickly as if he intended the answer to be shouted through his moves. "Impossible," he said. "Don't play with me like that, Jeff."
His friend smirked and started listing everything he'd been doing since he found out Mile was studying in the same university. From his inquiries to find out his name, to staying up late alone because Mile wasn't finished with his extracurricular activities. "On top," he added, "you haven't gotten into trouble anymore."
Apo shot him a look, astonished. "I don't get in trouble anymore?"
"Hadn't you noticed? Lately you've ignored everyone who's been looking to have a fight with you," he commented as if delivering the weather news. "Your time has been totally absorbed by your Mile."
Your Mile.
Apo's ears grew hot. " It's n-not my Mile!"
"Yet."
No, Apo reasoned. Even if what Jeff had said was true and he had fallen in love with him, he didn't think he could ever make Mile his. Firstly, he didn't know about his existence, and surely their one episode together had been forgotten in some mental garbage can. Apo didn't consider himself brave enough to approach him either.
After several mornings and numerous sunsets, acceptance came to him. He had fallen madly in love with Mile. The revelation also brought the real reason why his behavior toward people had changed.
Smile, he had told him. Because life was too short not to, and because he had flattered him by telling him he looked good. Now smiling was what he tried to do the most.
For him, and for himself. That was what Mile conveyed to him. That humility of addressing others and himself, with gentleness and kindness. Apo had become someone new because Mile had brought out the best that was locked inside him. He had transformed him without even knowing him.
Apo shuddered at the power of the events.
The journey of those days of his life, nevertheless, had not lasted as long as he would have loved. Mile was in his senior year, and the end of term was a villain that caught up with him at great speed.
No minute could be wasted, and he followed him to the end. On the last day, Apo allowed himself to let out a few parting tears. No. Scratch that. Apo cried without anyone being able to stop him. He cried to say goodbye to his first love, the one who had made him a better person and whose smile alone had managed to stay scarred to the depths of his soul, to the nucleus of his inner being.
"Goodbye," he whispered to the wind and with a burning desire to be able to see him again. "Thank you for everything."
***
Two years had passed, and Apo could spend hours evoking the memories of his past. For nothing in the world had he been able to forget him, that boy for whom his insides stirred in beautiful feelings.
Mile, like a song in his mind.
Mile, over and over again.
Noises had awakened him long before the sun's rays slipped through the window, and as he peered out, he stood petrified. A moving truck, with Mile getting out from the passenger door.
Two years. Two fucking years of regretting not talking to him. Two years in which he'd drowned in a one-sided love.
Suddenly, he felt a storm consuming him. He imagined himself close to him, holding his hand, feeling his skin. He fantasized about being one step away, their eyes locked, and even intertwining their fingers to never ever separate them. He dreamed of telling him his name and discovering he already knew it, and saw himself tasting from his mouth that even from afar was luring him.
Apo went out, still in his pajamas. He hadn't been paying attention, just walked because his legs had responded.
"Hello," he said as soon as he crossed the street and stopped in front of him. His mind ceased to think, it was his mouth that started talking without his heart being connected to his brain. "I'm Apo, glad we're neighbors. Welcome."
Mile looked at him. He stared at him for very long breaths, and smiled.
Radiantly and immensely.
"Apo," he cocked his head, saying his name as if he were tasting it. "I'm Mile."