I was once again roaming around the ballroom in search of anything exciting, even though the entire ballroom continued to prove itself to be as dull as a ditchwater. But then, all of a sudden a boy caught my eye. More particularly, his snowflake-shaped silver cufflinks did. He stood too graciously for an eight-year-old boy, I assumed he must be around that age, even when he seemed to be leaning a bit down to talk with a little girl, looking perhaps even younger than me. It was a sudden act as she raised her eyes a couple inches up to look at me, such that I could not even prepare myself to appear gazing around aimlessly.

Even then the boy continued his talk with the girl. And I refused to understand why I wanted him to look at me. I continued aiming my stare at his back as if it was the most fascinating thing in this room (and it certainly was). But then, unsurprisingly, he turned around to match his company's gaze, making my breath hitch.

And I, might I add, very ungracefully managed a hiccup. Twice.

I barely cared to register the waiter pardoning his crash into me, as all I wanted to absorb were his eyes. And his nose. And his lips. And his raised eyebrows.

I've heard other girls talk about how they felt when they saw a cute boy. Was this how? But... this was so uncomprehensive. I couldn't stop looking at him. His dark caramel hair. His parted lips. His abysmal grey eyes. It felt like a call as I didn't even realize myself being driven a step ahead.

It was only now that I saw how intently he had been staring at me, a stare I had long since felt. Although, for some reason, his eyebrows had furrowed, and his face twisted in a manner that made him look like he longed to reach something. I saw him move forward, as if there was a pull between us, because the next second, or minute I would not know, I stood right in front of him as he did to me. I could see a myriad of emotions in his eyes. But the most prominent of all was repentance.

Repentance for what? I was curious.

I saw him raising his hand to my face, and from the look in his eyes, he clearly felt likewise.

Just as his hand was about to reach me, the girl called him out. 'Brother' I think she called out. Hearing her call, he fisted his hands and pushed them down with an evident grudge. I wanted to anaesthetise his sister for the next century. He turned around to clutch his sister's hand and stared at me contritely.

It was all so puzzling as all the feelings churned in me. It felt as if a firecracker shop had just exploded. I persisted in my stare as he took back another step right when I felt a tingly feeling in the palm of my hand. It felt as if every element on this planet were to be recreated in my palm.

It was nerve-wracking.

I fisted my hand and closed my eyes, trying to understand what was happening to me. And when I opened them, the sight rendered me anxious.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

He had turned around, appearing to be leaving.

Without a single word shared.

I was statued in my place, having no idea what had happened. But then a realisation struck me hard. I felt as though a part of me was being cut away.

I wanted to cry.

I don't know for what–his leave, or my feelings. It was all so frustrating that I simply felt helpless. Helpless for not being able to stop the boy? But why was that so? it frustrated me even more as I thought of it. Somehow, just as he was about to leave I called him out.

"Hello?"

This made him stop in his tracks and turn around towards me. "Yes?" It sounded like he was scared. Honestly? I might have been more scared that I would not be able enough to say something to stop him.

"Uh... I-I..." My mind and speech were in a blunder under his gaze. "For you." I claimed while I instinctively presented my palm to him. He stared at the rock right in the middle of it, and then back at me, and then again at it confusedly. I had no idea where the stone came from. I promise.

And again, I had no idea why I felt like giving it to him, but it felt like the right thing.

A gift of remembrance it was.

He seemed to be studying the gem, and sometimes me when he lifted his gaze. As if he couldn't believe it. Feeling defeated by his lack of response, I was about to retreat my hand when he looked me right in the eyes as he took the jewel out of my hand. His fingers delicately brushed my palm.

Then came a sudden look of... surprise?

Just when I thought he was done surprising me, without any notice, he took a hold of my wrist and raised it towards his lips. My breath managed to hitch, once again, as a shudder ran through him.

I knew it because I felt it too.

And just because my heart still barely beat, his lips connected to the back of my hand, halting it to a fatal stop.

I could feel my eyes widening to a point I was afraid they would fall out. I would soon pass out. I was not even aware of how I managed to have my consciousness intact.

The overwhelming electricity had almost killed me.

I could feel it sparking all the way to my wrist. Although this time it hit me with such a staggering force I almost felt lightheaded. I think I already was.

While I was not-so-leisurely hanging on the cliff of passing out, his body tensed. Maybe a side effect of the circuit we had made? But then, after he disconnected his lips from my hand, the words that came out of his mouth confused me yet again. But I realised what he meant, albeit too late.

I realised it after he left.

His words were no more than two but came across as if he told me a thousand.

"I'm sorry. "

__________

I woke up with a jolt. A dream.

Again.