After graduating from high school, Mathew sets out to do a two-year missionary service like everyone else his age.
Mathew thought that his only problem would be him adjusting to the city as someone who's lived in a farming town all his life. he didn...
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The morning sun was out early today, so the empty streets were flooded in a warm yellow-blue color as I made my regular morning jog. My head was throbbing, and my legs were tired, but I kept jogging anyway. For the past week, I've been overworking myself — keeping myself as busy as possible in order not to let my mind stray too far. I still saw Nathaniel around the place. In the grocery store, taking walks or talking to other people. He would wave at me when he saw me sometimes, but most times when he was with someone he wouldn't acknowledge me. It made me upset, but that was what I wanted. I didn't want him being too friendly with me, right?
my breathing gave way and I eventually stopped in my tracks, bending over to hold my burning knees as I tried to recover my breath. The soles of my feet were burning inside my shoe, and it felt like someone was banging two plates on my face simultaneously. Well, jogging hadn't cleared my mind, that's for sure.
"Are you trying to commit suicide by exhaustion?" a voice asked, making me hold my already labored breathing. I looked up to find Nathaniel looking down at me with a not too impressed look on his face. How had he gotten here? How hadn't I noticed someone was walking up to me?
He soon looked away with a sigh, and I watched as he searched the sling bag he had on him before taking out a bottle of water.
"This was for me, but since you're practically dying, you can have it," he said, stretching out the plastic bottle. "Come on, take it before I change my mind," he said, and I heaved, taking the bottle from him before muttering a small 'thank you.'
"You've been avoiding me," he said, making me choke on the water I had started to drink. I heard his laughter ring through the street as I hit my chest and tried to recover from the water in my throat. I closed the bottle with its cap before turning over to look at him. He was now smiling with a raised full brow as he stared at me. I looked away, not knowing exactly what to do. I looked up after a while like a guilty child caught coloring on the desk.
"I thought you were trying to show me the light?" he asked, putting an emphasis on the last word by making quotation marks with his fingers. I looked away again, and when I looked up he had his hands crossed, and he was looking at me with a mix of what looked like amusement and curiosity. "What happened?" he asked, making me shift on the spot.
I looked away again, scratching the back of my neck as I tried to think of what to tell him. I didn't want to lie to him. I had managed to curb that habit that had popped out of nowhere, but I didn't want to tell him what was really in my mind. It was too personal, and essentially not his business in any way. Plus, it was embarrassing.
A laugh came from him again, and I looked at him. He was still smiling. He shook his head, sighing as he tucked his hands into his pockets. Unlike the rest of the times I've seen him, he was wearing a sweater today. The weather didn't call for it today, though. It was reasonably warm outside. Weird. That was the only way I could define the long-sleeved grey sweater. It looked out of place on him since it covered most of his tattoos.
