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When Sorey arrives at the library to meet his best friend, Mikleo, he is promptly ignored. The boy, with a thoughtful hand pressed to his lips, is hunched over a book teeming with photos, as images spill across the pages in vibrant colour.
Sorey wonders what has him so engrossed.
He sets his bags down and slumps into the seat beside Mikleo's. A pair of legs swing back and forth, fuelled by curiosity and general contentment with being in close proximity to the person he could undoubtedly describe as the love of his life. Of course, Mikleo had yet to catch drift of this information.
“What has you so interested?” At that, his friend inches closer, pushing the book with him. Sorey's heartbeat hiccups as their bodies press together, warmth mingling in comfortable harmony.
“Look, look!” A chirp. The vibrance of which is reflected in Mikleo's violet eyes. They shimmer, as his hands grance along the pages, pointing to a single image. “They're called moonbows. Read this.”
Sorey's eyes drift to the caption alongside the photo as he reads.
“A moonbow, also known as a lunar or white rainbow, is formed by the refraction of moonlight against water droplets -- woah that's so cool!”
“Isn't it? And here, look at how beautiful it is!” Mikleo exclaims in a tone of wonder. He's still mesmerised by the image, caressing it with his fingertips. “What I wouldn't give to be able to see one.”
Sorey notes how starstruck Mikleo appears at the mere prospect -- eyelids pinned open, body inched forwards, lips pursed tight. He ponders what it would be like if Mikleo were able to witness it himself. Simply speculating his reaction had pleasant butterflies swirling in his stomach. And so, determination fills Sorey like liquid inside a glass. He's going to fulfill Mikleo's dream, even if his life depends on it.
Apparently his plan is anything but simple to execute. He's checking the forecast daily, praying for rainfall on a day that matches that of the full moon, except it refuses to appear, for months.
The sun peeks above the horizon on February 13th, rays filtering between Sorey's eyelids and prying them open. Habitually, his fingers ghost along an illuminated phone screen to check the forecast.
February 14th: full moon, showers.
Sorey gets so excited he stumbles out of bed and ends up making an awkward collision with the floor. His head is throbbing in time to the pulse of his heart. An excellent way to begin the morning.
Nonetheless, he still bounces back onto two feet!
Sorey feels radiance ripple through his entire form; this was it -- an opportunity to bring a smile onto Mikleo's face and maybe finally profess the feelings he's harboured for years. The thought has Sorey pressing giddy palms onto pinked cheeks because oh Maotelus, it sounded so romantic, confessing to his one and only under the sweet kiss of moonlight.
He smacks his stupidly rosy cheeks whilst grinning like a fool. “Okay Sorey, calm down it’s just Mikleo -- the guy who's been your best friend for years.”
Just Mikleo. But he's so much more than ‘just’. Sorey doesn't want to mess this up. His fingers feebly tremble across the phone screen, moving to dial Mikleo's number but they falter and release the device, sending it tumbling to the ground.
No matter how determined he may be, he can't muster up the courage to actually ask his friend to accompany him that evening, despite having known him for years and all.
Sorey finds himself stalling on both days, cursing himself when the evening of Valentine's Day draws dreadfully near. He's wringing his gloved wrists outside Mikleo's front door, shuffling to and fro on his feet, bringing his hand up to knock, only to have it sink down.
A series of intimidating thoughts cripple his very being, freezing it more solid than the coruscating ice that builds up on the street around him. What if Mikleo already had someone to share the evening with? What if Sorey's feelings were never destined for reciprocation? His pondering steers him away from Mikleo's front door, and then back again. Sorey fluctuates in his steps, pacing and fidgeting.
When the door swings itself open, he jerks almost comically.
“You've been creeping out here for hours -- what's your problem?” The sight of Mikleo makes him gulp, enclosing all words behind bars in his throat.
“M-M-Mikleo! What are you doing here?” The unimpressed expression that stretches clearly across his friend’s face does very little to tame the beast that is Sorey’s nerves. Instead, they rage inside his body with the ferocity of a storm, his ability to communicate incapacitated.
“This is my house last time I checked. I think I should be the one asking you that question.”
A deep breath.
“I-I was wondering if you'd like to hang around for a bit?”
“In this rain?”
“Yeah -- there's something I'd really like to show you. Come on!” Resolve reigns over anticipation as he takes Mikleo's hands into his own and pulls him outside.
“W-wait Sorey -- I can't go out in this weather; look at me!” His protest prompts Sorey to give him a once over. Adorned in pyjamas and slippers, Mikleo doesn't appear fit to venture out in the rain at all. But time isn't within their grasp, and the chance to tame his thoughts is seized away.
“It's fine -- we have to hurry, otherwise we’ll miss it!”
“Sorey!” Comes Mikleo's exclamation as he's dragged into the fading sunset, staggering along the street. His feet and slippers, are soaked through in their entirety. The harsh bite of water and ice makes them shiver. It's no use protesting. Once Sorey's mind is fixated onto something there's no restraining him. His spirit runs free, unchained and gleaming. It's one of the more endearing things that make Sorey, well, Sorey.
The rain drags their hair downwards. In Mikleo's fringe, all sense of buoyancy vanishes, as each strand clings to his dampened forehead. Sorey revels in the way he looks so disheveled yet breathtaking at once, because with Mikleo, beauty is even discovered in the most unprecedented of places. But it's those nuances that drive the force of his heartbeat. Every day.
It's a matter of minutes before they arrive at a clearing circled by trees. With grace, the exposed branches and pines peer over from above. They shield a fraction of the sky, but not enough to obscure the pair’s vision. Perfect.
It's quiet and they're the only ones there. Sorey has to sit on his hands to stop them from trembling so much. It's a decision he regrets, as the dew settled on the blades of grass beneath wets his hands.
“So, what was it you wanted me to see?” Mikleo squats beside him. He really doesn't want to return home with his pyjamas caked in mud and water. It would certainly earn a scary lecture from his mother, that's for sure.
“We’ll have to wait a little bit,” replies Sorey as he watches the sun recede from above, and the full moon blend into visibility. He worries, as the sky fades from pink to navy. What if the moonbow would never appear? They were a rarity after all. Even if the conditions required were met. The rainfall was partial enough to allow for the moon itself to be visible -- much like the sun with a rainbow. And it was said that moonbows were only visible shortly after dusk, and before dawn.
As time drags on and Mikleo's patience erodes, Sorey begins to worry. If it doesn't appear, how would he ever be able to face his friend again? He'd be at the epitome of humiliation and possibly even heartbreak.
“Sorey, it's been a while and I'm starting to get cold; what are you waiting for?”
Without hesitation or consideration, Sorey wraps Mikleo in his jacket before he replies, “It's supposed to be a surprise.”
“Well, I’ll give you another ten minutes, but after that, I'm going home.” He reads the mood of his childhood friend, waterlogged like his clothes. It only works to make Sorey more downcast. After pulling a stunt like this, having his feelings reciprocated seemed more improbable than resurrecting a person from the dead.
Ten minutes pass with no noticeable occurrence. With each second, Sorey grows more dismal and closer to giving up. And when his time is rendered dry, he stands up without a word. He didn't know what he was thinking. Everything was a huge shot in the dark, resting upon tiny conditions that if neglected, would have all his efforts rendered useless.
“Let’s go. I'm sorry to drag you out like this.” It's with guilt and regret that Sorey inches away in the direction they came. He looks down, while Mikleo follows, gazing up in a fashion that matches one of exasperation.
“Honestly, I don't know what went through your mind to bring me here like this.”
“Yeah, it's nothing really. Just another one of my silly spontaneous ideas again,” chuckles Sorey, a slight bitterness in his tone. A reply never comes. As he saunters away, Mikleo is frozen still, eyes narrowed at the sky, as he makes out the shape of a peculiar curve of light. It's faint, just a small dust of light, but his observance catches it like a deer in the headlights.
“Wait, Sorey, stop.” He stops. “You don't think that's…” He turns around to see Mikleo staring with bated breath, eyes stretched open in awe. Sorey has to squint too to see it, but streaking across the sky with the elegance of an artistic paint stroke, is a moonbow.
All the hopelessness that has built up within wilts and shrivels into oblivion. He moves with Mikleo to sit back down, as the moonbow gradually becomes more radiant and defined against the background of emerging stars. Mikleo himself is too shocked to notice that he's completely sat himself on the muddied grass.
“It's beautiful, isn't it?” The way he beams, while his eyes fixate against the night sky, it's, it’s, it's...breathtaking.
And Sorey responds without thinking, his senses snatched away as he sees the beams of light bounce flawlessly against Mikleo's hair and eyes. “But not as beautiful as you.” Silence falls between with the realisation of what he's just blurted, as he slaps a hand across his reddening face.
“Huh?!” The shade of Mikleo's cheeks matches his own as the remark was certainly, well, unexpected more than anything.
It's now or never. Sorey figures if he's going to finally relieve himself of his repressed feelings, it has to be at this very moment.
“Well, uh, there's something I've wanted to tell you for a while now.” He's fidgeting with his fingers, bringing his knees up, clenching together.
“Really?” Mikleo looks at him with intruige, curiousity and maybe the slightest hint of concern as Sorey curls up shyly.
“I-I...I…” But his words falter at that very moment, and his throat runs dry, reducing them to hoarse whispers.
“You…?”
Sorey takes a deep breath and then blurts, “I love you! Like, a lot.” His face conceals itself behind a pair of withdrawn knees while Mikleo is left to gape astoundedly beside him.
“I-I guess you could say I'd be lying if I didn't say I love you too.” He's quieted as he speaks, the hush in his voice tender yet still poignant enough for Sorey to hear. Only then, does the brunette reveal himself, showing an expression of disbelief because this was too stupefying to be real.
Upon instinct, the pair inch closer, until there are mere millimetres between them.
“What are we doing?” He asks in a whisper.
“I believe it's called a kiss, you dummy.” And before Sorey can say anything else, he's silenced by the feeling of Mikleo's lips pressed against his. It’s a sublime feeling -- the type that has you wondering if you're in the clouds or living a dream. The type that has you so stunned that it takes a good couple of moments before you can finally kiss back.
And when he does, Sorey feels a pleasing surge of electricity and giddiness resonate throughout his body. It's a sensation that he craves, finds himself addicted to, yearning for more.
Pulling away is easier said than done. They're still close when their lips part. Eyelids lay low and not entirely agape. Sorey's breathing and heart flow out of sync, as his entire system is in a state of disarray and daze.
“Wow?”
“Yes, wow,” Mikleo returns, voice airy with amazement. Sorey is so happy he giggles and bumps their noses together in a gesture of pure affection. His smile grows ever so wide as Mikleo does the same, nuzzling back. They hold the position. Sorey's hands drift to Mikleo's cheeks, while his love covers them with his own.
They don't pull apart for ages. Even as they stand again in the rain, preparing to head back, both hold one another in the sweetest embrace, swaying back and forth ever so slightly in a ginger, smooth rhythm. They forget the presence of the wonder above, as what has been discovered between them, is even more beguiling.
It's only as they pull apart that Sorey finally points out with amusement,”hey Mikleo, you have mud on your butt.”
“I have what?!”
Yes, they could both get used to this.