Work Text:
Pov: Zack.
I’ve fallen in love with one of my friends. He has a warm expression, brown eyes, and long, tousled hair, topped off with a knitted hat. Unlike my noisy friends, he doesn’t talk much; he just listens to every conversation.
I don’t know when I fell in love. The memory came flooding back when I saw him sitting on the pier, drawing in the notebook he never parts with. Lost in a world that remained still above his head.
"Hey."
I snapped out of my daydream. In reality, I was still sitting at a desk in the quiet classroom. I quickly turned toward the voice calling me. Ash looked just the same. He was now a new student at my school.
"So, off to Denska, right?" he asked softly.
"Y-yeah."
In short, I walked alongside him to the bus stop heading to the city of Denska. A city we often visited with other friends. The sky turned gloomy, as if it were about to cry. Luckily, we managed to catch the bus before it was too late.
I sat with him by the window. The sky was now pouring rain, soaking everything. The bus felt quiet that afternoon—just the two of us and the driver.
"Are you serious about going there in the rain?"
Ash gave a small nod. So cute.
"Yeah, why not? Aren’t our friends already waiting?"
"It’s not that—you’ll get sick."
"Oh, so you’re worried about me?" he teased.
"N-no, I just don’t want you to get sick at your new school."
That’s a lie—I’m actually really worried about what would happen if he got sick and we didn’t see each other. Never mind, I’m overreacting.
"By the way, how was your first day of school?" I asked, staring out the window.
"It was okay," he replied briefly.
"You saw for yourself how it went on the first day of school—everyone recognized me right away," he continued, turning to look at me.
I replied with a small laugh. Yeah, I saw how the guy next to me was instantly recognized by all the students. No wonder—he really does have a warm personality.
When we arrived in the town of Denska, it was pouring rain. I had trouble reaching my friends because there was no signal. So, we immediately ran to find shelter from the rain.
I ran behind him, covering my head with my hands, while Ash covered his head with his favorite bag. He ran ahead of me, then turned to look at me, laughing contentedly at how the rain was soaking us.
Instantly, I fell silent, seeing his face light up with happiness. My heart slowly sank. His gaze, his smile, made it hard for me to understand this language of love.
We took shelter in a quiet shop. He turned and chuckled, enjoying the rain. He was soaking wet. I hadn’t even realized I’d been watching him all this time.
"This is fun," he said.
I remained silent. Of course it’s fun to be with him all the time.
"Not for me—I don’t like the rain," I replied.
"I see."
His eyes sparkled as he watched the raindrops soak the city of Denska. The smile on his lips wouldn’t fade. It felt strange; I found myself staring at him, lost in thought. I wondered if this was what they called falling in love in a thousand languages I hadn’t yet understood.
"Zack."
I snapped out of my daydream.
"Is it true that you have a crush on someone?" he asked, looking at me differently.
I was stunned for a moment upon hearing that question.
"How did you know? I mean, why would you think that?" I stammered.
"I overheard you talking with your friends. You said you have a crush on someone."
I had forgotten about the relentless rain. Suddenly, that memory brought me back. That day, we were having dinner at a restaurant. At first, everything seemed fine, but then Ash got a phone call.
He quickly stepped out of the restaurant for a moment. It was then that I was asked to reveal my big secret. The others seemed suspicious of my behavior as I tried to be tactful.
Of course, I answered honestly, but I didn’t reveal who the person was. I had no idea Ash had overheard the conversation after he finished his call.
We were back in the rainy city of Denska. I just stayed silent, not responding to what Ash said. It wasn’t that I couldn’t, but it was hard to find the right words to admit it.
"If that’s true, is it a problem?" I said.
Ash looked at me as if he wanted to know more. But I felt he was a little disappointed with my answer.
"You don’t want to tell me who that person is?" Ash replied.
He looked away. His face was listless, his smile gone. The rain no longer set the mood; instead, there was silence.
I’m clueless when it comes to this. I feel like I need to understand it better. Sure, I’m in love with him, but I’m confused by the language involved. It’s as if my heart has suffered a translation error.
There’s something the song lyrics are trying to say.
If I be honest, baby, will you stay?
You make me feel like I'm living inside my dreams.
His presence is truly a dream whenever I’m caught in a storm. He embraces the thousand wounds on my shoulders. Ash seems to have the ability to understand the language of every story. Yet I struggle to understand him.
I see falling in love with someone like Ash as a beautiful dream that’s hard to wake up from. I know love is hard to define, but every story inevitably faces its own challenges, doesn’t it?
We didn’t speak in the empty store while it was still raining. My phone still hadn’t received any calls from our friends asking where we were. I glanced at him; Ash still wouldn’t look at me.
"Eres el sueño que amo." I said.
It means "You are the dream I love" in Spanish. I don’t know how to put it into words, but this is enough.
I guess.
Ash looked at me. His brow furrowed.
"What does it mean?"
"You are the dream I love."
His face was filled with surprise. He was silent, not knowing what else to do but stare at me.
There was something that drew me closer to his face. I don’t know where that courage came from. My hand reached out to touch his cheek as if the person in front of me were real. He was still looking at me with a puzzled expression.
Without hesitation, our lips met. We closed our eyes. Slow, gentle, and tender—that’s what we both felt. My heart was pounding wildly. Ash didn’t resist what I was doing.
Instead, his fingers touched mine as if I were about to leave once this was over. When it was over, we pulled apart. Our hands slipped apart. Stunned and panicked, neither of us knew what to say. The rain still served as our backdrop.
We looked at the rain again. For a moment, he gave a small smile in the silence. His hand touched me again; perhaps this was a sign that he, too, was searching for his own answers.