He hates his glasses.
Matangkad, maputi, cute. 5 years nang nagpapaka-loyal sa teatro. That was John. And he always smiled, kahit sa gitna nang bagyo.
Kahit na kasama niya ako.
"Yanna."
"O?"
"Bakit ka nakasimangot?"
"Pagod ako eh."
He raised an eyebrow, "Saan ka napagod?"
"Sa lahat."
He frowned. "Kahit sa'kin?"
Silence. I watched him closely, and forced a smile. "Fine, Except sa'yo."
"Ows..."
I laughed,"John?"
"Hmmmn?", he raised his coffee-filled styrofoam cup and watched the violent rains outside.
"Bakit mo ako pinagtiyatiyagaan?"
He looked at me. "Ano bang klaseng tanong yan?"
"Tanong Yanna."
He smiled, eyes mirroring the tenderness of his heart, "Kasi matalino ka, parang ako."
"Hindi daw ako matalino sabi nang nanay ko.", tears came. I sobbed. I heard her voice, backing me into the corner where I bled from the wounds I knew shouldn't matter. I promised myself I won't hate. I promised.
I heard him sigh, "Ang importante matalino ka sabi ko, halika nga dito."
His muscled arms went around me as he whispered kind word into my ears, sighing as I kept crying, the smell of his perfume calming my senses. I was aware of the eyes that watched us, but I didn't mind. I didn't care. John was holding me. He doesn't mind, he doesn't care. And that was all that mattered.
"Please stop crying.", he mumbled, kissing me at the top of my head.
I looked up and saw how his dark hair fell in gentle strands along his eyes, which were dark and rounded. His nose was perfect, his lips thin and red from his habitual lip-biting. And he smiled. Once again he smiled.
He was beautiful, in all the ways I'll never be.
"Mabuti na lang matalino ako sabi mo."
He grinned and raised my face, his lips an inch from mine."Buti na lang."
He kissed me. And all I can think of was the way he held me closer, as if to protect me from the world that judged without end, the eyes that always looked, the voices that never ever failed to talk.
My heartbeat filled my ears, but all I can hear was his name.
John. John. John.
