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Every day, from 10 am to 7 pm, in a job that I honestly hate, at the end of my shift I clean the café tables, which I also have to close myself. It is a long, tedious, and stressful process.
Although I should close at 7, I always leave 30 minutes later because, in addition, I have to count the money in the cash register, fill out a book with all the amounts, and take photos of everything, even though my boss comes every two days. Then take a bus back home that will surely be full of people. Today was one of those days.
I filled out the book thirty minutes before closing, even though I wasn't allowed to close before 7. At this point, I didn't care. However, to my bad luck, a couple came in, which meant that again I would have to leave at 7:30, or even later. They left at 7:10, of course. I finished correcting the book and taking the photos at 7:30. Now it's 7:40, and I'm still wiping tables.
The air feels sultry, and I can smell the faint scent of wet earth. It's sure to rain, and I didn't bring an umbrella. It bothers me to think that I could have caught the bus if I had closed at 7 before it rained, but there's nothing I can do about it. I'm still wiping tables.
At 7:50, I gather my things, put on my jacket, turn off the lights, and lock up. If I don't want to wait until 8:30 for the next bus, I should hurry, but my fare card was in my backpack. And with all my luck, while I was looking for the fare card, it started to rain. A lot. It's 7:55.
I walk fast down the street as I get wet, stop at a corner to cross the street, and right now I could have crossed that street 2 times just walking before that car passed in front of me, but I stopped abruptly when I saw a boy leaning against the wall on the other side. I can say, even with a street between us, that he is the most beautiful boy I've ever seen in all my life.
Shoulder-length hair and traditional Japanese clothes, which were now soaked. He didn't seem to care about the rain, he just stood there, leaning against the wall, looking the other way, indifferent to the water soaking his hair. I couldn't take my eyes off him. Something about him made me feel something I hadn't felt in a long time.
Maybe I have been looking at him for a long time, because, besides my clothes are wet, he turned to look at me. Now I feel very embarrassed, but he doesn't seem bothered. He smiled slightly at me, I think. Taking a good look at him, I’m now completely sure he has the most beautiful face ever.
I cross the street, more to stop looking weird in front of him than by choice, and approach him.
I had no intention of stopping in front of him instead of heading to the stop, but now that it's 8, I don't really care, and, even if I did care, at this point I'm not in control of my own body. Nor my mind, because all I can think about is that I now know his eyes are green.
He smiles at me and asks if I'm heading to the stop. I can't speak, so I only nod. He asks if I'd like him to come with me since it's dark. I nod again.
He walks beside me, as our footsteps sound against the wet cement. We speak very little, but we look at each other a lot. The street is not narrow, but we walk close to each other anyway. Our hands collide more than once. I blush every time it happens. He only smiles, looking at me with those green eyes.
Even though he smiles, I can feel something sad in his eyes. I don't know why exactly, but there is a lot of sadness behind those river-like green puddles in his eyes. A deep sadness that hurts my soul. Although I don't even know his name, I want to see the joy in those beautiful eyes.
It's 8:16 and we arrive at the stop. He waits with me in the rain. He insists on staying with me, even though I never asked him to leave. I would never ask him to leave. Being soaked in water at 8 pm while waiting for the bus that is sure to be packed with people never felt so good. It would be wonderful if the bus never came, just to be with him a little longer.
A boy had never made me feel this way. In addition to his handsome face, sad green eyes, and well-hidden smile, he has a calm and comforting aura. If I could, I wouldn't stop looking at him. He has something majestic and mystical about him that I can't explain. There is something nostalgic about the way the wind blows his hair, the way his eyes shine in the moonlight.
Like that river that was actually a stream.
At 8:27, earlier than that bus should have arrived, the bus stands in front of us. He smiles at me again and nods, motioning for me to get on. I smile at him and walk towards the bus, but, no longer in control of my own body, I stop abruptly and turn towards him. I look at his beautiful sad eyes.
He looks at me, not confused like anyone would be after being stared at all their time with me, but rather curious. With interest. I keep looking at him, while the bus behind me is surprisingly waiting for me. I would like the bus to leave so I can stay here with him. If possible forever.
My body moves again without my permission. I approach him quickly and kiss him on the lips, even though I don't even know his name.
A chaste and soft kiss. He doesn't move or push me. Nothing. He lets me kiss him and possibly kisses me back, although since I no longer own my mind, this may or may not be true.
Before he can say anything to me, or before I hug him and never let go, I get on the bus and sit in the first seat I can find. Now, for the first time since I saw him, I didn't dare look at him.
The bus moves forward, away from the most beautiful boy I've ever seen in all my life. He would possibly never see those green eyes again. The idea destroyed me.
Those green eyes, which had a deep sadness, his hair, which had a greenish tone, dark because of how wet it was. That last kiss, which will always be engraved on my lips, and in my soul, for the rest of my life.
That last kiss will always mean everything to me.
Possibly, I will never see that boy with the sad eyes again.