"God... what happened to us?", he whispered while staring dazely at the distant church.
The woman bit her lips and looked away. She was about to stand up when the man spoke.
"You're running again, aren't you?", he said harshly.
The woman abruptly faced him, her face contorted in anger. She bit her lips to stop herself from snapping at him, but as soon as she saw his pained expression, her anger disappeared.
"I don't... I don't know... You shouldn't have met me today. You don't have to. You're happy now, so why...? Why are you here?", she said, her voice almost cracking up. She bit her lips even tighter.
"I also don't know...", he admitted.
"Liar...", she sputtered.
He laughed and looked at her. When she saw this, she frowned and then looked down at the gravel.
"Ha! Of all the people! You! I can't believe a scoundrel will say that to me," he exclaimed mockingly.
"Yes, I'm a scoundrel... So please leave me alone," she said calmly as she stood up and walked away from him.
She was about to take another step away from him when the ground shook. She stumbled back and almost tripped when she felt a hand push her up. She looked over his shoulder and saw it was Beau.
"Aria!", he shouted as he grabbed her arms abruptly and dragged her away. The establishment next to the park toppled, and several rubble fell haphazardly towards them. He briskly dragged her away, and the moment they stopped running, she reluctantly peeled his hands off her arms.
"You don't have to do that...", she mumbled weakly. "You should have let me get crushed by—"
"You may be a scoundrel, but I once loved you before...", he answered weakly.
She looked at him with shock and sadness evident in her eyes, but later on it disappeared the same time the dust from the toppled establishment cleared out.
"And also, I can't let you die... yet," he brusquely continued.
She smiled at him sadly.
'Was the man she loved before go—'
Her musings got interrupted when he suddenly pushed her again. A loud thud erupted, and the next thing she saw was that he was now lying on the ground with the half of his body covered with fallen debris.
Her breath hitched, and before she knew it, she let out a sharp cry.
"Help! Someone help him! Help! Please save him!"
Tears mercilessly fell down her cheeks, and everything became muted as soon as she saw his unconscious body.
'No, no... This can't be. Someone... Save him...'
He woke up at the sound of the machines' beeping noise. He also heard a steady breathing nearby, so he gradually opened his eyes to see who it was. His heart skipped a beat when he saw it was her.
Then he remembered what happened earlier.
Their meet up at the park. The heated argument. Her who almost ran away. The earthquake. The debris that fell down. Then her who cried for help.
Those were the things he remembered before losing his consciousness. He looked at his side again and saw her sleeping face.
'She didn't change... She still looks like an angel while she sleeps, but she's certainly far from it when she's awake,' he thought amusingly. 'God... She's still beautiful...'
He gently touched her cheeks. He smiled when she faintly stirred.
'She still doesn't want someone touching her cheeks...'
But instead of moving her face away from his hands, she snuggled closer as if recognizing who's hands were those.
A tear fell down his cheeks. He squeezed his eyes shut and silently wiped his eyes dry.
"You're awake...", a hoarse voice mumbled.
He opened his eyes and smiled genuinely at her. She looked tired, and her eyes were swollen from crying. That made his gut wrench.
"You idiot! Why did you save me? Does being a saint isn't enough for you? Now you want to be a hero?!"
He stared at her, both in shock and wonder.
'She's indeed unpredictable...but why would she be angry at me?', he pondered. He then simpered when he realized what could be the possible reason.
"You're worried about me...", he concluded as he slowly sat up.
"No, I'm not..."
"You're lying."
"What's new?"
"Nothing."
"Then why did you save me?", she asked in an almost inaudible voice. She looked at him briefly and then looked away.
"What makes you think I wouldn't?", he asked airily.
She looked up abruptly with tears welling in her eyes. He frowned and instinctively touched her face, but she swatted his hands off.
"Stop acting like you still care for me, will you?", she snapped out furiously. He looked at her in surprise, and then later on his face softened.
"Why? Why didn't you come that night?", he asked quietly.
"I came," she answered simply.
He frowned at her answer.
"I'm not lying," she continued.
"Then why didn't you show up to me? Is it true that you left me before for another man?"
"No. I don't want anybody else that time...", she answered without hesitation.
"Then, why?"
"It doesn't matter now," she answered dismissively.
"It matters to me."
"You should stop this nonsense, Beau. You're happy now... You should stop wasting your time with a scoundrel like me...", she said bitterly as she turned her back on him.
"And who said I'm happy without you?", he whispered loud enough for her to clearly hear.
She blinked her eyes and turned to him again with a conflicted expression. She wanted to believe it, but the rational part of her doubts it.
He seemed to read what she's thinking, so he continued. "I'm not lying... I hate lying. So please... please tell me why you didn't show up that night...?"
She scowled as she contemplated for something, and then she answered. "I guess this doesn't matter now... It's—it's your mother."
She expected that he would look shocked, but it seems he had anticipated her answer.
"So that explains—
"I'll go now. I've answered your question, and I hope that will make you move on easier," she said irritably.
'But I hope he doesn't...', she wished silently.
He blinked, stared at her earnestly, and then laughed.
"You never really changed! You're still the scoundrel who never admits your true feelings. You still run when you're cornered. But I'm not a fool anymore, because I'm sure of what I really want now."
She gulped as she felt an uneasy feeling in her stomach. She didn't like it, but at the same she didn't hate it.
'Please don't give me false hopes, Beau...', she thought.
"I'm sure you know what I mean... and yes, this time, I'm really sure of it."
"I-I don't care," she stammered.
"Of 'course I know you wouldn't, but I'll see you tomorrow then. It's your fault I'm here, so you're obligated to care for me until I get well," he said while smiling mischievously at her.
"Why would I do that? You have your own girlfriend that can take care of you!", she sputtered angrily.
"Now, now, don't get jealous—I don't have any girlfriend as of this moment—but if you're determined to be one, then why not?", he said jokingly.
But he meant every word he said.
"You're crazy," she answered while rubbing her temple. She looked away and smiled inwardly.
"So are you...", he answered while grinning at her.
Days passed, and little by little they started to rebuild what's almost lost. It wasn't exactly like before, but slowly and steadily they began to realize the certainty of their intentions and feelings.
However, a faint doubt still lingers. And only time can tell if that doubt is valid or not.
"Do you want oranges?"
"You know I don't like oranges."
"I know," she chuckled as she answered him simply while peeling an apple.
He held out his palm to her, and she gave him a slice of it.
"Thank you..."
"You saved me, so don't thank me."
"No... I mean, thank you... Thank you for coming back."
She felt butterflies in her stomach, and strangely, it seemed that a heavy burden was lifted from her shoulders. She gazed at the window and smiled.