Friday, The Meadows.

It’s Friday, 4.37 pm. None here, but me, glimpse of the savanna and that cloud. The cloud that shaped just like your face, bringing back memories; your smile, your sadness, our togetherness.

Recently, I’ve been thinking all of those memories. Is it fake? Pretense? Why I’m in doubt right now meanwhile every single time I stare you, it always disappear? I just can see both of us, me in your brown eyes and you. All of those things we’ve been through comes to mind, and none of them can assure me that you pretends. None of them. But since you told me that there’s something you hid from me, I always having that nightmare.

Wednesday, The Lobby.

it’s kinda late to having lunch, but most of everyone there. Having a leisure time like this is common, but not this day. We start talking about our worries, and when that story comes up…

Severin: “Now, here’s my story. *noises indistinctively* If I ask her whether she likes me or not, is that wrong? What would her man think?”
June: “If I am that man, I don’t think what you’re doing is wrong. You fight for your heart.”
Severin: “Well, what if she moved her heart? What if she choose me? Am I wrong, again?”
June: “Well, it depends. Maybe he will think that you’re good enough for her, and maybe he will set her free, it’s hurt though. But I thought that he will think that you’re not wrong.”
Then, silence wrap The Lobby, nothing to talk anymore.

Artemisia: “June, let’s go to the armory. I need you there.”
June: “Okay, wait a second. I’ll catch up soon”

Wednesday, The Armory.

June: “Why here? Why are you so silence at The Lobby? Is there any problem?”
Artemisia: “Yes, there is a problem. “She” on his story might be pointing at me.”
June: “Seriously? Wow… Surprising… But, that detail? Did you do that?”
Artemisia: “Umm… y.. yeah. I did that. But not that exactly. There’s something that you didn’t know. I think he arrange that story to be similar with it. But the point is, he might be pointing at me, or maybe it is really someone else.”
June: “I hope so, it must be someone else…”

Then you tell me some detail of the story. I was terrified. If his story really, really true, and “She” was you, I might losing you. And, I still wondering, what I didn’t know.

Friday, The Meadows.

The story from Wednesday haunt me for every time I fell asleep and every time I let my mind free. This guilt… I don’t know. I think I’m the one was wrong. It’s all my fault. I didn’t see that it was me, between them, and make them apart. It is all my fault, I think so. But the thing I know, I fight for my heart, and I won’t regret it (as you told me). If this is a nightmare, I will wake up from this shallow sleep. I really love you, Artemisia.

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