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WE CAN DANCE UNTIL WE DIE...(YOU AND I)
Kaipa stares at his phone, eyes tracing the last text in the chat box over and over again.
"Sorry nong, I can't make it today. Wen isn't feeling better".
Of course, it had to be just that.
He huffs. Hot exhale thickening into an appearance of smoke. He locks the phone and closes his eyes.
All he asked for is few hours with Jim. He even stopped chasing the guy long ago.
But everytime he wants to spend some time with him, Wen pops up like magic.
Or is that a way of Jim avoiding him. He wasn't unapproachable. If Jim didn't want to see him anymore, at least he could let him now. He tugs at his beanie. The box of fresh corndogs on his lap, slowly losing their warmth like Kaipa's dying happiness.
He kicks the heap of snow at his foot from where he was sitting on the bench. Scattering it around. An ironic chuckle reverberate deep in his chest. Possibly he got his heart scattered like the heap of snow because he let himself submit his poor heart to Jim.
Kaipa sets the box of junk food aside, grabbing a fistful of loose snow, pressing them in a ball of mischief."Alright, since i wasted my time and warmth sitting in snow, might as well enjoy it" he mumbles to himself. Staring at the snowball on his palm.
It's still early in morning. And it just sparked another wave of mischief in his mind. He targets one of the closest house and smashed the snowball on one of its window.
The object hits the screen with a loud 'thwack' and slid down. Kaipa giggles
He rolls around a chunk of snow in a messy attempt of a snowman. Laughing at the silly distorted thing. He focuses on making more snowballs, planning to annoy the neighbours instead, as he spots another house across the street, hitting it seems challenging.
But he isn't going to back down now. He grabs a snowball from the mini stack he has made so far, spins it in air, targets the seemingly open window screen and throws with all his strength. When no hitting sound was heard, he frowns and keeps throwing instead.
Alan just had to pull a whole nighter. As much as he hates breaking his schedule, he needed to complete the order of painting before deadline.
He was beat. Not getting enough sleep and the cold weather just adding bonus to it. He was awake, true.
But he couldn't bring himself to get up and start his day. Instead he was back under his blanket, tired but not sleepy enough.
Needless to say he flinches up when something solid lands on his blanket. Scrambling out from under the covers, he spots the item.
A distorted snowball resting on his blanket. He immediately brushes it off, exactly when someone just decides to rain him with simultaneous snowballs.
"What in the world!" Alan brushes away the dusty snow when the snowball bombarding paused for a moment.
He throws his blanket away, reluctantly getting up and eyeing the heap of silly snowballs on his bed and on floor. Annoyed, he throws a sweater over, wrapping overcoat around him to go spot what kind of person decided to ruin his early morning procastination.
The door getting stuck in snow successfully depletes his annoyance, much to his dismay. Replacing with frustration. When he finally got out, he spot a single figure running aorund the space across the road, picking up tiny branches.
He feels his mild annoyance moulding into curiosity instead. The figure, Alan squints, seems like a guy in his early twenties, fun-loving, energetic, chaotic, lively and carefree. Unlike 28 years old, boring artist, suffering-midlife-crisis-in-twenties Alan.
He watches the boy with pure amusement lacing his eyes and even forgets why he was there at the first place.
Until the boy focuses back on making snowballs, stacking them and throwing at random houses. Eventually at Alan's bedroom.
Again.
"You know as much as pleasant it is to watch your smile when you enjoy the snow, i would appreciate if you stop using my window as personal basketball hoop" Alan grumbles and the guy flinches, turning around.
Alarmed.
The armful of snowballs falls on ground.
He peeks at the 'snowman' wannabe stack of snow and cocks his eyebrows, "And what is that supposed to be?"
The guy visibly relaxed, "S..snowman"
Alan chuckles, "more like snowdemon" he laughs, "you suck"
The guy stares at him, lips parted.
Alan watches as the stranger puffs up his cheeks, nose and cheek blazing red in cold.
"No! My snowman looks okay, you are mean and YOU suck!" He half yells. Alan walks towards the guy, snow crunching under his boots.
"Is that so?"
"You make one better than mine then!" The guy challenges.
Alan smirks, "okay then".
And he does, build a decent snowman out of nothing. He doesn't know why did it but the honest awe on the stranger's face was totally worth it
The guy blinks in suprise, "Woah... You were... You were actually right.." he looks down, fingers fiddling.
"I do suck" his voice small. Alan laughs before kicking the Snowman back to distorted heap of snow, making him gasp.
"WHY did you do that!!?!"
"It was fun when you were smiling and stuff, not so much when you started calculating your worth instead" he faces the guy,"let's make one together, what say?"
The guy beams at him,"SURE!!" His eyes scrunching up like crescents as a wide smile paints his lips.
He immediately kicks his own snowman (or snowdemon as Alan would like to call it) and happily helps Alan in making a more than decent snowman.
Even going to the extent of wrapping his own scarf around the snowy figure.
In the turn of events, Alan found himself sitting in his dining table with a 23 years old guy named Kaipa, who unintentionally decided to bombarding his bedroom with snowballs.
"So, your date stood you up?"
Kaipa shook his head, sipping the hot chocolate Alan offered him, "my brother... You can say"
"And you decided it'll fun to bombard my bedroom with snowballs?"
Kaipa blushes, hard, "I didn't know the window was open!! Okay?!"
"Cute" Slips past Alan's lips, causing both of them to avert their gazes, hint of red on their cheeks.
Alan coughs, "sorry." He mumbles. Kaipa grips he warm cup of hot chocolate and bit his lip, looking at his lap.
"It's ok" he mumbles.Clearing his throat.
"You like mozzarella sticks? Or corndogs?" he suggests and Alan nods, "Why do you ask?"
"Well" Kaipa points at the box full of those, "bought a lot, can't eat all of them alone... And we probably could use some... Snacks, no?" He awkwardly explains.
Alan bites back a teasing reply, instead heats up the snacks. Keeping the chitchats going, Alan notices the tiny sparks of excitement in Kaipa's eyes as he learns Alan is a painter. As his eyes shine as he pets Alan's cat or ogle at his drawings.
His eyes fill with tiny stars, reminding Alan of glittery snow, the galaxy and the lake water under full moon.
Also, he learns from Kaipa how he got over his unrequited crush, and realises how happy that guy was over the little improvements.
Also everytime the furious blush on Kaipa's cheeks whenever Alan pushes an honest compliment forward.
And how he stares at Alan when he think Alan isn't looking.
It is extremely adorable if you ask Alan.
Also, Alan might or might not have gained a weekly appointment of making snowman and participating in snowball fight with a certain starry eyed young guy.
Compulsory hot chocolate and snacks.
Eventually cuddling on couch, under blanket, watching films.
And after almost an year, if Alan tackles a mischievous 24yrs old on ground for throwing snowballs at his bedroom again and kisses him breathless, and that certain 24 years old troublemaker kisses him back under falling snow, it's no one else's business but theirs.
~The End~