To the broken heart, and withered soul, I offer you the solace of my warmth, embracing the insecurities of your scars. Be ours, name our love... yours, you know who.

Salazar wasn't what he thought she was. If I hadn't had seen the duality in her virtue by my own eyes within just few moments of meeting, maybe I too would easily be deceived by the praise of Zhan. Of course, I can't blame Zhan for loving a person he has known for years but then again, as an individual, I couldn't feel at ease either. I know we have been seeing each other just for few days where she has been in his life for years... but then again, just because there is a person in your life for a long time does never prove they can not be toxic or wasn't such. People change, just like you do. And you matter.

"Yibo, my love, How was the date?" Mom hummed looking up at me, from the book she was reading.

"It was good. I gained knowledge." I said while gulping down the water from a glass.

"Oh, by the way, Soham called."

"Soham? Soham Einaudi?"

"uh huh."

I felt something knotting in my throat at the same time I felt skeptical and confident. It was that type of mixed when you know you are going to win the game yet you are scared of fate. You fear the future unknown.

"Why call... all of a sudden?"

"Don't know... he must have heard you discharging from Hospital."

"Well, Mom... that would be too much for me to take in."

"Yibo, don't judge a person so randomly. People change. And you should communicate with him first and then decide how it will affect your relationship with him."

"Huh, we don't have any relationship."

"You know what I meant."

"Yeah, yeah I got it. Now I really need rest. I am going upstairs."

"You will have dinner right?"

"Yup."

After taking a warm bath rather than a quick shower, I thought of all the incidents that happened today. While I thought today will be a blooming day where I and Zhan will explore his artworks along with our emotions... nothing like that happened. Instead, I met with these people I least wanted to meet.

Soham has been the director of the Ballet house, and also the only heir of their whole business. After his brother died, he was meant to handle the business regardless of how much he wanted to be a pianist. We know each other from our first encounter in kindergarten, then serendipitously ( I doubt I will call our meeting serendipity now) in the music class, then at a family dinner as we have come to know our families are always heartily friends even before our birth.

Awakening was not in our vocabulary then. We didn't know what does it mean to be 'gay'. Nor did we know about sexuality, orientation, or gender. But we knew one thing- we love each other. More than it could hold, our souls knew we loved each other.

His hooded eyes, dark, real dark eyebrows; I still haven't met such beautiful eyebrows till now, his nose so tall, lips thin. His sculpted chin with chubby cheeks was unfathomably sweet. He scented like mahogany.

Our first kiss happened on our rooftop, on the night of a very common and usual family dinner. Though it was his birthday, due to some issues our family had to arrange an emergency meeting that day. And like that, his birthday was passively forgotten while I remembered. It made us emotional as the stars above sang their zeal, the cars under- ran out of their breath. It felt like we... just us had the power of pausing time. It was a peck, we didn't know how to kiss, yet we did the kiss with utmost care.

When we both reached the age of eighteen and graduated high school... we went on a vacation to Phuket, Thailand. Just the two of us. All alone among the strangers but felt so near to the blue water when he leaned his head on my shoulder holding my hand. That night we had our second French kiss and first sex.

I couldn't pinpoint the time when we started to fall apart, but it happened gradually and at first, it was unnoticeable but then it became undeniable. It just fell apart. I tried to contact him by many means... but it all went too vague. Two years later, I heard the news of him being the youngest director of their ballet house. I was happy because by then, he was just an acquaintance I knew. All the family dinners we skipped, all the meals we haven't eaten together for two years, all the smiles we could have shared, all the secrets, and bonds – maybe all of them were forgotten after I had the accident few months later.

Now it's just a past part of my life. Nothing more, nothing less. But now his sudden outbreak didn't seem okay to me...

"Yibo... dearest, time to eat," Mom called knocking on my door.

" I will skip the dinner... lost the appetite."

................................................................................................

It wasn't a good day as I thought it would be. It's true that Yibo and I had met, I met Autumn after a long time... then why do I not feel the content I should feel? I don't know.

I have been avoiding this question for a long time, but still, it always comes to my mind just a moment before I fell asleep every day.

Who is Yibo to me? Who am I to him? Who are we?

We don't know each other much enough to call each other friends, we are not seeing each other as dates either. We are just two free souls wandering in and out of love. Yet the tone Autumn and he shared showed a hint of envy and competition of brilliance.

When he held my hand, it felt warm, cozy and a jigsaw puzzle that fitted.

But we have shared kisses more than just one time... and trust me, it was as passionate as it could be.

Then what just exactly are we?

Not taking it all in, I decided to give a call to Yibo... I couldn't hold it anymore. The curiosity, the question, the hunger for knowledge, and the mystery to unfold about our relationship, about us...

"Hello? Zhan... you are not asleep yet?"

"Hey, sorry to bother... but were you asleep?"

"Nope, I was just reading Poetics... why? Everything okay?"

"Yes, it's alright. Poetics... hmm and what did you learn? I didn't take you as a philosophy kiddo."

"Of course, you won't. You don't know the half of me and neither do I. And I learned tragedy happens with good humans." he said... exactly slapping on my thoughts.

"Then what are we Yibo? We are not friends, not lovers, not a word in my vocabulary... then what are we?"

"Oh Zhan, I thought you knew."

"No? I don't..."

"We are Artists. And artists don't have a definition but they just know the value of beauty in life and have the ability to spread the life in stones, papers, in emotions. We are the worshipper of beauty, we are our muse, we are our song, we are the melody of the ballet, we are the colours of our rainbow... our lips paint, our eyes sing, our soul muses while our nose crease. We.... Are we Zhan.... No need to bother with vocabularies."

"Yibo..."

"Hmm?"

"Can you spend the night tomorrow at my place? You know what I mean."

"Yes."