CHAPTER XLIX: Weapons Against Faith

The leaves once again began to fall and the sun rose multiple times more.

It was like any other day, yet it also felt hard to ponder over how the slight transitions were visible from my point of view.

It was frightening yet it was also exhilarating.

Another week passed and before I knew it, the canvas of colors was finally done.

It probably would have been finished at a much earlier date if only I didn't have so much work piled up.

Or the fact that I was slightly trying to delay it.

Anyhow, now that it's finished, I can't really come up with a concrete idea on how to do the next step.

Confession.

I tried researching online for tips, but they all ended up useless because they were too cringy to even think about.

I tried practicing in the mirror, but that also made me realize how dumb I looked so I eventually gave up on that.

Honestly, how does anyone do this?

Do I just straight out give it to him and make him decipher it on his own?

Or should I just flat out tell him that I like him?

I pulled on my hair out of frustration.

I seriously wish this would garner a nice answer because if not, I don't know what I'll do after accomplishing all this for him.

I might even smash the painting on his head.

But let's not be too brutal at the moment.

Although, it does sound appealing.

Pondering so much, I almost forgot that I have classes to attend to.

When I checked the time, it was nearly quarter to eight in the morning.

After checking the painting once more, I grabbed my bag and headed out to university.

Just as I entered the parking lot, I already got a glimpse of Ross's back, walking towards the main building.

I swiftly exited my car and trudged in his direction.

I didn't want to run because I was wearing my heels so I just opted on calling him out.

"Hey, Ross!"

When he didn't turn around, I tried to call him again.

But that didn't do much as well as he just continued walking until he was finally out of sight.

I stopped on my tracks, confused about what just happened.

I definitely knew that he heard me.

So, was he ignoring me?

But, why?

I sighed.

Let's not bother on the minor details and focus on how to confess to him tomorrow.

Yeah, I finally decided to do it tomorrow because the further I wait, the more my anxiety builds up by the day.

Plus, staring at that painting every night is seriously getting into my head.

The school bell rang loudly in the corridor.

Fortunately, I was already in front of my classroom by that time.

Upon entering, I saw Solar sitting inside.

She waved at me and pointed at the seat she reserved for me right next to the window.

After sitting next to her, she immediately started to talk about the latest gossip she gathered in one of the famous hotspots within the university.

The bathroom.

She always goes there before class and the reason behind that was pretty obvious.

I don't even need to mention it anymore, given Solar's personality.

While she babbled on with how the baseball team had a major fight last week about pecs and abs, I decided to surprise her with news of my own.

"I'm going to confess tomorrow." I blurted out.

"Yeah, okay, so as I was saying, that Phil dude shoved hi-WHAT?!" She whipped her head in my direction and gasped loudly.

"You're a little too loud."

"Girl, I'm always loud." She rolled her eyes.

I silently nodded in agreement. It is true, there's no denying that.

A second later, she grabbed my shoulders with both hands and stared at me right in the eyes.

"Repeat what you said earlier."

"You're a little too loud." I repeated accordingly.

She gave me a blank look.

"The one before that, Dia." She emphasized.

"Oh, that? I'm gonna do what you've been pressuring me for so long."

"So you're confessing to Ross tomorrow?"

"Do I have someone else to confess to?" I asked with my eyebrow lifter.

She grunted, "You just can't allow one day to pass without being sarcastic, can't you?"

"Nope." I smirked.

"Why do I even-"

I cut her off, "Hey, you can't criticize me, tattler."

She opened her mouth and raised her finger to contradict me, but she immediately shut it after acknowledging I was right.

"Touché."

For the majority of the time our professor was late for, I told her about my not-so-grand plan for the following day.

There were times where she wanted to slap me because of how 'lame' my ideas were but she never dared to after I warned her that I'll slap her twice if her palm lands on me.

She retreated obediently once she heard that.

All she did then was to mumble and shake her head while I was explaining.

In the end, she had no choice but to 'politely' lecture me on what is right or wrong in this matter.

Although, I could already say that her ideas were far worse than mine.

She wanted me to man up and make a huge play in the university's quadrangle, where every student could witness what I had to do.

Another idea of hers was to seduce him in secret and then…

Well, I couldn't tell anymore because what she added after that was too explicit to even mention.

Eventually, lunch rolled in. Five hours of lecture was both tough and draining.

It was hard to concentrate in the middle of it so my mind began to wander at that point.

I unconsciously muted the dull voice of my professor while I daydreamed. That's why I almost didn't notice when the lecture ended.

I told Solar to go to the garden first because I had to submit my plate to the faculty office.

Walking alone, I tend to take notice of my surroundings compared to when I have a companion.

During that short journey, I saw how people would glance at me everytime I appeared in their line of sight.

Some were even whispering as I passed them but I didn't really bother to be attentive to that.

To put it simply, within these circumstances, I wished someone would just divert my attention towards something more meaningful than these.

It was really bothersome to have people objectify you by checking out every flaw you have, unintentional or not.

With this conclusion, I hastily finished my errand without taking any form of detour or distraction.

Or so I wished.

After taking a few steps away from the faculty office, something familiar caught my eye.

It was Ross.

He was walking towards a girl who was giddily waiting for him.

What the…is this another deja vu?

When I sneaked closer, I caught him leaning in the girl's ear to whisper something.

This made me pause.

What were they talking about?

Should I just eavesdrop?

The thought made me smack myself.

"I'm not that low to hide and listen to other people's conversation."

Except for the other coincidental meeting in the hallway, I shouldn't be cowering away like some coward.

I breathed in and moved forward.

This movement might have caught Ross' attention, because soon after that, his eyes met mine from a distance.

I was about to speak up when he shifted his eyes away from me and took the girl's arm to pull her away.

My hand that was lifted up for a wave slowly went down as I watched them walk away.

What…

"Did he just ignore me?" I mumbled to myself.

"What the fuck?"

I let out an exasperated sigh and glared at their backs.

With my anger reaching a critical level, I turned around and headed towards the opposite direction.

I made my way to the nearest bathroom and went inside.

I reached the sink and opened the faucet to wash my hands in irritation.

After scrubbing so hard, the bubbling vexation didn't wash away and remained intact within me.

I tried to calm myself down.

But it didn't help.

I whisked away the residue water from my hands and stared at my reflection in the mirror.

The girl there looked cold, indifferent, yet also vulnerable and weak.

This isn't like me.

This isn't who I am.

I guess…

I wasted all the effort I've put into for this stupid thing.

Amidst all the conflicting thoughts running through my mind, the cloud of uneasiness continued to shadow over my mind.

As I struggled for reasons to hold on to this fate, why does it seem that you're making it more preferable if I didn't even touch the thread at all?

Does he know my feelings now?

Is this the reason why he's ignoring me?

Is that the reason why he turned his back on me?

I-I didn't even get to tell him yet, but is this already his answer?

Fuck.

Drop.

Another drop.

I didn't have enough strength to touch my now dampened skin.

I didn't even wash my face, but the salty water kept moistining my skin.

Continuously.

I grabbed all my things and whisked away the stray tears running down my cheeks.

It's not the time to feel down with something that hasn't even begun.

At least now, I won't need to worry about what to do next.

For the following hours that passed, I tried to keep myself in check.

Not a single emotion should slip out, that's my resolve.

When I stepped foot in my home, the indifference that I've been putting up with still lingers.

That's why I failed to see that one of the people I've been avoiding was present in the same space as where I stood.

Forden was buried in his books, with his eyebrows furrowed together.

He was preoccupied with reading over the texts to even take note of my arrival.

Which was a good thing in this situation.

I cannot afford to have another person see me in such an exposed state.

I quietly trudged towards my room and locked myself in there for who knows how long.

I kept turning away the helpers who told me to go down for dinner.

I didn't have that much will to lift a finger.

It's not that I'm majorly depressed about what happened.

Because such things just come and go.

But maybe it still hasn't sunk in yet.

The thought that he'd choose someone else right in front of me.

It was something he never did when he's aware of my presence.

He would always call out to me first.

He would usually tease me for my actions.

He would also flirt with me without a care for what other people may think.

Is that the end of all that?

Won't I see and experience those from him anymore?

I wiped my hands on my face and let out a deep breath.

After staying like that for a while, I eventually removed my hands to stare at the ceiling once again.

Even the comfort of the stars up there couldn't calm the wretching in my heart.

I moved my eyes away from that but it landed in something more unfortunate.

It was the painting I had prepared for him.

It was a realistic picture of the two of us.

It was the one he took before during the school festival.

I was dressed up like a Greek Goddess while he was just there looking like a young, handsome civilian.

At first, I didn't have such a picture stored in my phone but Ross persistently saved it in there.

No matter how many times I tried to delete it, it would still magically appear in my gallery without me even knowing when it came back there.

I didn't know I'll be using it for this.

But I guess it was useless to do so.

I stood up sluggishly and approached my desk.

I took out a cutter from one of my organized drawers and strode towards the painting.

I observed all the details it had while my hand held the sharp tool.

As my eyes glazed over every single realistic detail, the blade from the tool lengthened slowly.

As though my hand felt the disappointment in my heart, it unconsciously tried to prepare to deal with the pain.

I raised my hand and aligned it with the canvas.

Lightly, the blade touched the material.

The tip of it brushes against the rough surface.

Would the wound I cast onto these colorful layers be sufficient enough to equally stand along the dismayed thorns of my feelings?

If so, let this be the last.

The last time I feel the pain as I watch another painting burn to ashes.

As I watch another drawing be ridiculed by my own indecisiveness.

From the time of the past, from the colors of the forgotten, to the time of the now, to the shades of the renewed.

Let this be the last time I'll hold a brush that destroys my fate.