Her dabbler hand against his bare frame, the brush between her fingers resolves as a marionette with his back as the stage, together forming art.

  The air is cold but her hand is colder. The wet tint trailing his body feels like winter icicles. But he knows, the world that is waiting for him is even colder. It chills him.

  Reticent eyes find its ease on the mirror in front him, showing the clear view of the stiff maiden behind. Her eyes wide awake, being alert as black shadow surround them. He distracts himself from her fierce stare by wondering,

  He wonders how long did she prepare for this? One month? Two? Since he told her about his debut plan?

  How did she have time for this? Is it the reason he always found her asleep in the middle of the break?

  But why did she even bother…,

  Oh.., he remember.

  The dawn he called her, apologized for waking her then stayed only to hear her breathing. In the midst of falling into his slumber, her voice caught up and it reached the words he had been trying to hide behind the morning fog.

  Confession of fear, something that only she could know. The reason why he always has the same joyful smile on his face.

  As the sun rose that morning, before he ended the phone call he admitted he needs her. He can’t against the world on his own.

  He sees four leaves clover, the symbol of luck. He sees the symbol of money, power. He sees star, wish.

  He sees Noize Bank, strength. He sees String, ground.

  He sees Trap, future. He sees Snoopy (he laughs), joy.

  “Hey, Amber.”

  “What?” Her eyebrows frown, eyes still fix on his skin. A comfortable warmth ambush him. A confidence to against the cold is growing with her as his sunlight.

  “Draw one to mark yourself.”

  He notices it is not that hard to breath anymore.

  She freezes, hands barely lean on him. Then the both smile. “I already did.”

  “Where? What did you draw?” no fret left.

  A mischievous smile is the answer; there is no way she will tell him.

  “Try to find out yourself.”

…

a rushed and random drabble. just because i wanted to write something. can’t help the urge to write. chance of being edited or removed.

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