Both gold city lights and cherry blossom leaves spark along the road. I sit at a street bench under a dimmed light bulb as my soul needs rest in a rush. Many people are going left and right, yet I still feel so quiet inside, like dark and humid within the deep long pipe. In the moment of silence, a heavy sigh unconsciously slipped out of my mouth, hoping it would blow away the burden inside my head. It turns out it isn't.
"I think your crumpled face doesn't suit this pretty scenery."
My eyes approach the voice owner with a familiar crisp woods scent that brings back my sanity. I am a little zoning out by his sudden appearance until he takes the empty seat beside me.
"I am not in my state of mind, sorry."
He stares at me for about three minutes without saying a single word, which confuses me.
"Sorry," I said again.
"I didn't come to hear you say sorry."
He grasps my palm and makes a little circle with his tiny thumb there. He still stares at me like there is nowhere to stare. With a simple smile, he never lets me break into pieces solely, no matter what. And as the world doesn't give me another choice rather than to be grateful, I hold back his hand tightly.
