It was way past midnight. The sound of their footsteps were the only thing that can be heard. Someone yelling coming somewhere not quite far, faded as soon as the door slammed shut behind it.
"I'm sorry you had to put up with it,"
The car engine starts and soon they were speeding through an almost empty highway. The passenger leans on the open window, closes her eyes and watched the streetlights flash before them one after another.
When she opened them, she sees her companion has left her side. The driver's seat empty, she looks around and found him lying on the ground. She got out and the boy turns his head towards her.
"You slept well,"
"You didn't bother waking me."
She laid beside him and stayed there silent for awhile. And as if pulled by some invisible string, he would move to put one hand to his lips and exhale smoke in slow motion; like mouthing a deliberate and calculated caution.
The lake, which separates them from the bright city lights across, remained at rest. In that open-spaced, desolated parking lot, both of them had conversations trapped in their minds. A lamp post flickers on and off at one point and for the longest time, nothing dared to interrupt the stillness of the night.
"I've never felt this empty,"
"You sure you wanna talk about this now?"
"Not talking about it wouldn't do a thing anyway." And she paused.
And continues, "When I was a child, I was afraid at looking at the sky like this and get scared on how vast it could be, on how long it stretches, and how far it is to me...yet I couldn't stop staring."
"Have you ever experienced that? I mean, I remember just standing outside our house, head up in the sky and for a long while when it's the only thing I see, I find it hard to breathe."
"Sometimes I'd stare at the mirror for too long I'd start to ask myself who's that looking back at me."
She glanced sidewards to look at him, and when he sensed this and faces her, she turns away. He studies her profile for a second and her smile embedded itself on a part of his mind without the owner's awareness. His heart started pounding.
He stood up, jumped a little, wiped the grasses off his jeans and said facing the horizon, "You know, if you're already in a hole, stop digging."
He looked over his shoulders and replied, "You'll bury yourself down and before you know it, I'll be impossible for you to get out." He starts to light another cigarette and says, "And he won't be even there looking for you."
The other one sits voiceless for a moment. Gazing blankly at the grass, thoughts half-understood swim in her head. When she finally spoke, "The heart wants what the heart wants." it sounded like something she forced herself to believe.
"Love is like an hourglass, with the heart filling up as the brain empties."
The sky began transforming its shades of darkness to light. The few stars that appeared just hours prior has now gone out of sight—as if it never existed at all. And within seconds the night gave way to sunrise.