Ember sat on his bed and pressed his palm over his mouth while holding a glass of water in his other hand. Loraine stood before his window, the sun shone brightly outside, getting blocked by dark clouds at irregular intervals, making the room to go dark and bright. Raindrops fell from the leaves since it had just rained. Ember kept the empty glass tumbler aside and looked ahead. Loraine looked at his back,

"You shouldn't go out anymore," Loraine crossed his arms while Ember wore his favourite red jordans, "It's okay, Loraine," He smiled and Loraine's eyes became rounder as he looked at him, get up slowly on his two feet, pulling his white shirt down and raising his pink fingers upto his shiny, golden hair as he brushed his fingers through them. Ember turned towards him, "You were expecting something else, weren't you?" 

"What do you mean?"
"You can go now,"

Loraine closed his eyes, "How cruel," He walked out of his room and closed the door.
Ember looked down at his feet, his red shoes, his black jeans,
"Are you okay now?" 
He looked up at Rhea's face. They were sitting in the class, at the crash course center. He didn't even know when he got there. She looked at him, eagerly waiting for his answer,

"Yes," He smiled, "It's nothing serious, that was just a hay fever," 

"Are you sure? You looked critical," Rhea asked.
"They were overreacting,"
Rhea looked into her notebook, "I prayed for you,"
Ember looked at her and then back into his notebook, "Your prayers won't help me tad bit,"

He sounded cold, as if a sudden change in mood. Rhea felt a disturbing aura and looked at him,

"Why?" She asked him.
"Because I don't believe in god," His icy blue eyes looked into hers.
"Why don't you?"
"I don't want to have this conversation," He looked away, hiding his angsty gaze.
"Come on, just tell me,"

"The question is, why do you believe in him?"
"Because God loves all of us unconditionally"
"Well, where is that love? I don't see it, I don't feel it. And if you think your god is doing you special favours if you pray to him, the same god allows millions of kids out there to starve and die or animals to be brutally skinned alive to make some rich lady a luxurious coat. It's just so vain, I can't find sense in it,"

"I get it, you don't believe in religion," Rhea looked back into her book.
"No, it binds people to live under certain restrictive rules and regulations just so that you don't offend some religion. People kill other people over something that they themselves don't know exists, they just blindly believe it does. And such people make this world such a horrible place to live in,"
"Everyone has their opinions,"
"Yeah, that's why I told you I don't want to have this conversation,"

"No, it's okay. I'm glad I get to know a bit more about your thoughts," She smiled at him. He looked at her and smiled, "I really can talk about anything with you, huh,"
"Well, not in my class," The professor stood behind them, "Both of you, get out! You've been disturbing my class for the last fifteen minutes!"

They stood outside the door while the teacher taught inside.
"I'm so bored," Rhea exhaled.
"You chose to be bored," Ember shrugged his shoulders.
"What do you mean?"

He tiptoed his way inside the shop in front of their crash course center. It was a music shop. She looked at the door for a while and then entered the shop. Ember already had a guitar in his hand and a few boys surrounding him with their own guitars.
"You play acoustic often?" One of them asked.
"I only play acoustic," Ember said and looked at Rhea. 

She looked at his face as he looked at the guitar strings and finally began singing as he played it. The bassist soon joined him and so did the electric guitarist. Rhea tapped her foot on the floor as she heard him play.

https://youtu.be/CVe_oOolVgc

"You play it so well!" Rhea clapped her hands.
"That was unexpectedly good," One of the boys said.
Ember laughed and kept the guitar aside, "Well, you asked me to play it for you. There you go,"
"I loved it," They stood outside the door once again, waiting for the class to end so they could go back home. But none of them wanted the bell to go off, "You have such a beautiful voice," Rhea looked at her feet.

"You do too," He looked at his feet as they both leaned their spine against the wall beside the door, "I can make music endlessly, but it's only your voice that calms me down," He looked into her brown eyes.
"Don't look at me,"
"Why?" He chuckled.
"Your eyes...They make me shy," She looked away and then back at him. He was looking away too. He had an awkward tenderness, her eyes rested upon him, but only till he looked back, "The class is over,"

"How did you know?" She asked, but only after a long pause since it took a while to return back to her mind from the world he took her soul to with just his eyes. He laughed, "What? You didn't hear the bell?"
She looked back and stared at the bell. She in fact, didn't hear it, but she pretended that she did and walked back inside the class. 

The next day, she met Neel in the art room, painting something on the canvas board. 
"Hello Neel," She kept her canvas board beside his. He just passed her a glance and continued painting, "What do you want?"
"Can you teach me something?"

He looked at her, "Do I have to?"
"Please?"
"No, fuck off,"
"Dammit! I thought we were finally friends," She picked up her paintbrush and Neel looked at her hands, "You're not using that glass paintbrush I gave you?"

"I do, but only sometimes. It looks so fragile, I can't carry it around without breaking it," She began painting something on her board, as the white canvas slowly went yellow. He continued with his own painting until he couldn't. He looked at her painting and kept his paintbrush aside, 
"Why do you even paint? What are you trying to prove, you're not even that good!"

"I paint because I want to, not because I have something to prove," Rhea said, calmly, "I want not to be governed by money or clocks or any of the artificial restraints that humanity imposes on itself. I paint because I enjoy it. You don't have to be good at artistic things to be able to enjoy them, or to capitalize them. Life is meant to be enjoyed, not monetized. You're not a product,"

He looked into her brown eyes through his black bangs, "Nice philosophy, I'd love to watch you fill that fat belly without any money in your pocket," He got up and went out to wash his brushes.
"SHUT UP!" She yelled, "That was a good speech, you gotta gimme some credit for that,"
"Take L, loser," He pointed his middle finger at her and went out while she just stared at him with her mouth wide open, "Eugh! I hate him!"

Neel washed his paintbrushes under the running water while staring at his reflection on the tap, "He's doing it again,"

Meanwhile, Rhea stood before her canvas, drowning in her painting. As her brush played around with the yellow, the brown in her eyes reflected it. She wondered what would he think if he saw her now, paint like this. All his dirty jokes, him randomly singing out sentences instead of saying them, the little acts of kindness. She wondered what it feel like to explore old painting stores, singing together, drawing more graffiti's, living in absolute bliss in the woods or the places he takes her heart to, the galaxies in his eyes, the stars at the tip of his tongue, the sun on his skin, the golden hue he emitted, the happy energy, the Rubenesque scent. 

In all honesty, she never expected to get that attached to him. As she painted, the tension on her fingers turned into unsolicited motion. It was certainly abnormal to crave so much to be loved by another human being.

It's just...
Her eyes narrowed as she focused on the board while the sunlight lit up her brown eyes like a glowing ember in the dark.

It's such a wonderful thing to love.

-To be continued

Can't I Touch Your Heart?
Teach Me The Art of Living