Someone scoops me up. I slightly open my eyes and I see that we're heading towards the nearest kiosk. Who's this? The spirit that lurks here at night?

I breathe in.

No.

From his minty scent to the low chuckle of his baritone voice, I already know who he is. Rico Alvarez. I glance up. My eyes widen when my guess was right. However, I feel like I already wanted to go down.

I wiggle my legs, hoping that he will drop me off. I covered my face with my two hands. I felt the contact of his arm on my back, as if securing me. The other is behind my knees, supporting my weight.

He paused and slightly adjusted the way he carries me. I feel him crouching a bit so I open my eyes again, curious of what what he's doing. Contrasting to my obsidian irises, his are cognac hues of the earth's color, yet inflicting an intense gaze.

"So heavy," he whispered before continuing to walk.

I glare at him immediately. Why does it feel like he intentionally said that, as if his intention is to tease me? There's no trace of complain on his face but a mischievous smile.

I am still glaring at him after he puts me down on the wooden seat. Rico sits near me. I don't want to face him so my sight moved to the front, eyebrows are furrowed while being hit by the rays of sunset.

"Who told you to carry me in the first place? You are to blame for what happened to my foot but you still have the audacity to complain," I mumbled.

In the corners of my eyes, I sense Rico shifts his body towards mine. "Does it hurt so bad?"

I nodded.

"Sorry."

My lips parted. He apologized. Finally. He apologized for something he did not mean to...but still, not for the one he was aware committing so. After he said that, silence envelopes between us. It's always like this, even then.My eyes fly to the distance of our hands resting on the bench. It's like us, the gap is appallingly clear.

I secretly bite my tongue. Just checking if someone has already cut it off. Really, how to be a great conversationalist?

I caress the part of my foot. There's still a little sting whenever I attempt to move it. I carelessly massage it to ease the pain at least.

"You shouldn't do that. It may hurt even more," he reproves. His jaw clenches.

I turned to him. My eyebrows furrow. I stopped. From gazing at him, I find out how light can be dark sometimes. The rays of the setting sun hit his face, thus casting some ebony shades on his jaw down to his neck and to his broad shoulders while illuminating an art on his eyes. Those covered with shadows appear like a silhouette. He looks so astonishing and dark at the same time.

"Tsk! Let me."

My heart leaps when he carefully kneels in front of me.

Rico slowly reached for my right foot. He puts it on his left knee when he's done squatting. His eyes are just focused on the swollen ankle.

A mere scant brush of skins yet it manages to cause havoc in my sanity. Not that I was still sane earlier. The moment Rico lifted me up, extreme madness already invaded my being. Confusion is becoming present in me. I snorted.

"You seem out of breath. Does it still hurt??" he gently asked.

He suddenly stops. Because his eyes are on me, I am suddenly conscious to breath.

"Not anymore," I answer.

He shifts his head near me. Now, we are staring at each other. "Are you sure?" he whispers.

"Yes!" I said, irritated. I looked away. I can't bear to look at him. I can not do it.

Glancing at him when he stands up, I see how he easily shakes off the dirt from my shoe. He did not complain. I waited for some but so far, not even a word about his dirty pants came.

He sits beside me. From this moment, I just realize that I regret not talking much with others. We're suddenly stuck in an awkward silence. I don't like the feeling. It's like, I don't want him to get bored with me. Maybe I should just search some conversation starter pack? I coughed at the thought.

My forehead creases. Why would I even exert an effort to keep him entertained? If he can't deal with my silence, then so be it. I don't care!

"Hmm, aren't you just walking to go here? How are you gonna go home with that...swollen ankle?" after how many minutes of silence, Rico manages to ask me.

The circumference of his cognac irises dilutes with worry. It seems real. I am on the verge in believing for it hadn't been for the words I had received from him before. Now that I think about it, the only choice is to walk...unless, he's gonna carry me-

My face unconsciously crumples when I try to imagine the sight as I move my right foot.

"Walk again, I guess?" I said.

He stood up, seemingly restless. The light caress he does to his hair as the twilight's rays pass through make the little action more noteworthy. After that, the dusky hues of scattered rays in the atmosphere follow suit.

The cold whisper of the afternoon breeze brushes my skin, causing me to shiver. Some curtains of my hair fly, following it's direction like a ghost in the night.

His silhouette overshadows me, casting more shadows to where I'm sitting at. He takes out his phone and presses something there.

After what he did, he glances at me. We sat there for the mean time. I am tensed while he seems to feel nothing. It's like he didn't say anything to me before... it's like he didn't hurt me before. After all, it's been almost three years since it happened. Maybe, he already forgot about it.

A sting of pain pricks my chest. Maybe it's not just him who has moved on. Maybe, all of them while I remain stuck in the past.