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Voices on the Wind
The wind was gently working its fingers though Tom’s hair, that under normal conditions fell to his jaw line in mahogany waves. The scent of sakura was in the air, and he remembered Ryan once telling him that it was a flower associated with memory in Japan. Maybe that’s why his mind was wandering into the past right now.
The wind strengthened, and Tom pulled his legs up onto the bench, situated along the path that was lined with more benches and various flowering trees. His legs were drawn up to his chest and he saw a young couple walk past, cuddling, the male trying to shelter his date from the wind.
It was Spring, warm enough that you didn’t need to leave the house with a jacket and so Tom didn’t. Ryan was more intelligent though, he watched the weather forecast and knew that the wind was meant to be picking up, unseasonable but not that uncommon. So he’d taken a light jacket.
The two didn’t know each other at that point, but as coincidence would have it, they both shared a fondness for admiring the beauty of the natural world, and naturally viewing the sakura blossoming, an event that only happened for a view days in Spring, wasn’t something that should be missed.
Tom was sprawled on the grass, captivated by the beauty of the blossoms, his light brown eyes hungrily memorising each and every detail. Then he pulled out his sketchbook and made his attempts to document the beauty, but it was something that he just couldn’t do. Nothing could compare to seeing this first hand.
Ryan had been coming every time the sakura blossomed since he had moved to the town five years ago, but each time he was still overwhelmed by what he saw. This time was a little different. Ordinarily a few people may pause in their walk but few purposely came for the reason of viewing the trees and there flowers. Only it seemed that this Spring somebody had.
He felt his heart flutter. Was because he had found a kindred spirit of sorts or was it because he found himself admiring the other as much as the blossoms?
His heart was torn. He was the quiet type, and didn’t really feel the need to talk to many people but to contradict that he felt an undeniable need (desire) to speak with this person. It appeared that the side of him that desired (needed) love won out and somewhat hesitantly he approached the mahogany haired wonder, that was engrossed in trying to recreate the scene before him.
Ryan cleared his throat softly, hoping that it would get the attention of the other. It did. With a start Tom quickly shut his sketch book and whirled around, all but leaping to his feet. However it was a stranger stood in front of him, not his father or one of the moronic bullies from school. He stood appraising him in a glance.
The other stood at about two or three inches taller, his silky seeming blonde hair braided, reaching the small of his back and his eyes caught somewhere between emotionless emerald orbs and eyes brimming with emotion, displaying uncertainty, regret and worry. That seemed to make Tom relax, making him think that this stranger was human and not some repressed sports player.
He offered a smile which helped make Ryan feel more relaxed, although just a little. Tom’s look seemed to ask him why he was there and so, taking a breath, he answered the gaze.
“I, um, saw you other here. I was stood there and saw you. I already said that, oops. Um, it seemed like you were liking the sakuras and I do to. Like them. Um, yeah. I’m Ryan,” he offered his hand, calling himself all sorts of things in the four languages he knew. Why did he have to mess this up?
However Tom didn’t see Ryan’s blundering as messing it up, in fact it made him more comfortable, after all how dangerous could a guy be if he could barely speak to him? He flashed the other, Ryan, a relaxed smile, which appeared to have it’s desired effect.
He took the hand and shook it, “I’m Tom, and you’re right. The sakura are gorgeous. Wanna watch them with me?” The request was impulse, and he wasn’t really sure why he asked, the more contact he had with somebody the more likely he was to be betrayed, it was simple. But he couldn’t deny that he desired (needed) somebody to be there for him, someone who understood him.
At first it was awkward, Tom remembered, but Ryan really was a nice guy. More than that. There was an insecurity to him but that only made it more special when they were together, when he was completely relaxed and at ease with himself and Tom. Those moments were heavenly, any time he could spend with the blonde was.
That had been their first meeting, their first of many. To begin with they had only gone to neutral places, different parks, museums and the like. Tom had discovered the others thirst for knowledge and had been taught many interesting things they didn’t bother to impart on the young and impressionable at school.
As time went on they shared each others home lives. For a time they became extremely close friends, in truth they were each others only true friend. But it seemed that it didn’t matter, after all they had each other, with enough in common to talk about things and to visit places, enough differences as to keep things interesting.
The wind shifted, changing direction, and so Tom moved his head so the wind was blowing his hair away from his eyes. The pale brown orbs saw a couple sat together on a bench, close, barely any space between them. The female laughed, her melodious voice pleasing her partner as she rested her head on his shoulder.
It was one of the rare times when Ryan was staying at Tom’s house for the night. Normally they went to Ryan’s because his parents weren’t as bad, they understood their son, somewhat. Tom’s dad though couldn’t understand why his son enjoyed art and trying to capture the beauty of the world. According to his perspective of the world if you were male you were meant to be an athletic guy, who was extraordinary in at least one sport.
That night though, his parents were out of town, so he wanted to take full advantage of the situation. The two were sat on the sofa in front of the large television, a bowl of popcorn on Ryan’s lap with Tom leaning towards the other slightly so that he could easily help devour the popcorn.
It was part way through the movie and the mahogany haired boy was finding it extremely dull and he was finding it hard to focus, maybe he should just lap. Without thinking he rested his head on Ryan’s shoulder, much to his surprise, evident by his body tensing, but then just as suddenly it relaxed.
Tom’s eyes fluttered open, surprised that he’d actually fallen asleep. One of the first things he noticed was the warm body he was leaning on, and the strong arms around him. “Mmm…Ryan?” he asked in a sleepy voice.
Ryan, who had not known that the other was awake, tensed, thinking, ‘What’ve I done now?’
‘Now’s a good a time as any,’ the brown-eyed boy realised, and he shifted so he was in a position to lean in so that brown met emerald. Tilting his head slightly he leaned further in, and Ryan could feel the breath dancing across his lips from the proximity. Then he felt lips pressed lightly against his own, before he could figure out what to do the contact was gone.
In a small voice Tom stated, “I’d understand if you wanted to leave now.” His eyes were closed, a mixture of emotions clearly writ across his face. Happiness and relief that he’d shown Ryan how he felt, pain for what was to come, he expected the other to be disgusted, to leave.
Ryan’s index and middle finger ghosted across his lips and he found himself smiling. Clearly he told the other, “I’m not going anywhere.” Tom’s eyes shot open, hope shining brightly in them, “Really?”
Nodding the blonde leaned in, their lips met, then he ran his tongue along the others lip, pressing slightly, asking for entrance into the others mouth that was instantly granted. The kiss lasted a few moments, each coming up for air, and sharing a smile, each feeling their heart leap at the sight of the other.
From then it had been good, at least for the most part. There were disagreements, but then that is true for any relationship, and there were many happy times and memories from their time together.
The wind shifted, bringing with it the sounds of two voices in a heated discussion, and Tom felt the past reclaim him once more.
“I don’t see why you have to go,” Tom had stated, and certainly not for the first time in their conversation.
Sitting down on the bed beside him, Ryan pulled him close, “I know you don’t, but I have to. It’s more than just being a wedding of my aunt who, admittedly I never speak to. I think that my parents think that I spend too much time on my own and with you instead of with them. If I don’t go I’m worried that they’ll something that’ll stop us seeing each other.”
Shaking his head Tom muttered, “But it’s our anniversary.” In truth the pair celebrated two. There is the occasion for when they first met beneath the sakura, and one for when they became an item on the night of their first kiss and that was the one that would be occurring now.
“I know, but if I couldn’t see you anymore…it would kill me,” he said, quietly and honestly.
Tom sighed. “I’ll see you when you get back then.” Then he walked out of the room, his heart already telling him to go back to Ryan and apologise.
The tears flowed, leaving a salty trail down Tom’s cheeks. He called himself a fool and worse as he had at least a thousand times before. He had never seen Ryan when he got back. He had never come back.
He had been speeding, attempting to get back before their anniversary when he had lost control of his old beat-up car. He’d crashed, died on impact.
Six months later it was the anniversary of their meeting and so here he was, sat underneath the sakura, alone, two years after they had met, half a year after it had happened. He’d never forgiven himself. If he hadn’t been so bent out of shape about Ryan going away then he wouldn’t have sped back and he wouldn’t have crashed and he’d be said there with him!
The tears came faster now. The wind not gentle and caressing like it normally was but harsh and stinging, roaring in his ears. Then it calmed and he could hear a couple talking. It was the arguing pair from before.
“It’s okay,” a voice drifted, male, “I understand, and I’m sorry, honestly and truly.”
The female replying, “I should be the one who’s sorry, and I am.” Then he could only assume that they were kissing or had moved out of hearing. That was fine by him, his heart ached, missing Ryan now more than ever.
Then a voice, floating on the wind, sounding like nobody else around, whispering softly, “It wasn’t your fault.”
A feeling of relief spread through Tom’s body, as the wind dissipated. Somehow he knew that this was Ryan and he was being forgiven.
