The
dining room was filled with flavorful aromas and laughter without any presence
of unease. Ava’s mother was very
sociable, even to an introvert like Ian. She didn’t seem to run out of
questions to ask. Sometimes she would crack up jokes; ones that would really
make them laugh it all out. But there was something peculiar, she mentioned
about Ian being special—that he had a unique gift, and that the moment she
first saw him, she was reminded about her husband.
After they finished eating,
Ava’s mother stood up and gathered the dishes. She was just about to collect Ava’s
plate when she told her:
“I believe that you have
something to say to Ian.”
“Oh, yes! I almost forgot,” it
sounded genuine, but Ian knew that she didn’t.
“I’ll just put these in the
dishwasher and I’ll be in my room if you need me,” she flashed a simple smile
while holding with delicate hands the expensive porcelain plates.
As soon as Ava’s mother left
the dining room, an awkward silence was suddenly obvious. Ian slowly turned his
head curiously towards Ava. She looked uneasy—rubbing her hands together in
nervous release. He could hear each of her tense inhales. Still, she was the
same beautiful Ava that he had been caring for—but only at a distance. It was
just hours ago that he finally had the chance to show it. She looked splendid
in her flowing white dress with sleeves just short of covering her elbows. She
let her hair glide down beautifully. No headbands, hair clips, or any kind of
accessories. She didn’t wear any makeup—there was no need to. Her lips were red
and moist, even without lipstick. Her face seemed to glow—a gentle glimmer. She
was everything that gorgeous described.
She turned her head to him
and their eyes cumbersomely met. He quickly turned away and gestured as if it
didn’t happen.
She smiled, “Come,” and held
his hand.
Her hand was soft and tender,
and it was the first time that Ian had ever felt something so perfect. He felt tense
as she slowly led him towards the living room. She asked him to sit down on the
couch and went on searching for something in one of the drawers. It didn’t take
her too long to find what she was looking for. She turned and he saw her
holding in her hands a book. It was big, the cover was thick, and it seemed to
be old. It almost looked like a Bible. She sat beside him and opened it.
She slowly ran her fingers
across the timeworn page with letterings he could not decipher. She uttered, “People
like you throughout the ages have been thought to be the devil, a witch, a
warlock, a dark being, or just simply an abomination—rarely ever called a champion.
Most of them were burned at the stake for the crime of just being. But there
were a few enlightened individuals in the past who were able to see through the
primitive nature of man. This is the collection of their writings—stories about
the people with an exceptional gift. Stories about the people they call as…Movers.”
“How do you know all this?”
he asked bewildered.
She smiled, “My father was a Mover like you.”
He tried his best to look
calm but inside he wanted to scream. His mind drifted to the many times Ava
would say that she wanted to be married to a man like her father. He wasn’t sure
if she meant that in a way of being brave and bold—or in being a Mover. He didn’t know what to believe.
“Legend has it that only one Mover can exist at a time in the world. No
one really knows what it is but it’s like a gift given to a person. Each time
the carrier of the gift dies, it transfers to another body. When my father
died, it must’ve transferred to you. It’s actually quite unusual for the gift
to transfer to another body this close from the previous host.”
“Where did your family get
that book?” he was eager.
“I don’t know. I haven’t
asked my father where he found it and my mother doesn’t have any idea. All I
know is that it has been here since long as I could remember.”
“I see,” he nodded and it
seemed to be the only phrase he could muster after hearing all of it.
“You’re special, Ian,” she
said with a subtle smile.
Their eyes met once again but this time
it was deliberate. Her lips just inches from his. Their hands were together the
whole time but it felt as if it was something they were used to doing. He had
never stared at her this close before, and he had never done it with her looking
back. Their eyes fixed in intimate connection. Fine details of her beautiful
brown eyes were visible. They tried to blink as seldom as possible so as not to
miss what will happen next. The moment was perfect and it could be it, but the
words that came out of Ian’s mouth weren’t what he had in mind.
“I probably should go, it’s
getting late.”
Ava didn’t look disappointed
but he sensed that she was. But it was just a gut feeling, “Okay. I’m just
going to tell mom first.”
She hurried to her mother’s
room and told her that Ian was leaving. Her mother waved goodbye while flashing
that unique smile. Ian waved back.
Ava accompanied him outside
towards the gate. It was about twenty meters away and they somehow came to a mutual understanding to walk slowly—each foot ahead of the other, little by little. The
silence wasn't awkward anymore; it was a feeling of acceptance of just being at
the moment as they strolled deliberately shoulder to shoulder. It just felt
right at that very instant—he grabbed her hand and kept it gently. She didn’t
shove it off, but instead, she held on to it.
They felt this sense of
nervousness, but it was excitement at the same time. It was as if they couldn’t
breathe as easily because of the constrained feeling in their chest, but in a
weird sense—it felt good and they wanted to hold on to that sensation. They
were half-way through, Ian held her hand slightly tighter as if he didn’t want the
moment to end. But he knew that it would, eventually.
As they finally reached the
gate, they stopped and faced each other to prepare for the impending farewells.
She wasn’t smiling—the moment felt solemn. Ian thought about finally saying
goodbye and going out of the gate, but Ava uttered a few words before he could
act it out.
“Thanks, by the way, for what
you did earlier.”
Few words to be so meaningful—simple
words that held its own and defined who she was to him, and who he was to her.
Words that made him realize—that everything he did, everything that he thought
of her, everything that he felt for her, weren’t just some arbitrary emotion
that came out of nowhere, but in reality, was the sum of every value that he saw
in her character. He realized that every time that he would gaze upon her from
a distance, it wasn’t just some pitiful construct of hopelessness, but was
actually the only rational way of conveying his emotion with discretion. For a
long time he did not care what to call of that certain emotion he felt for her,
but it was there that he realized, it was the fountainhead of every man’s
happiness: Love.
“I love you,” he uttered.
Ava flashed a shy grin and brushed her hair over her ear. He said it simply and concisely. There was only one thing that she could do. She wrapped her arms around him and shared her affection with a soft gentle
kiss.
The Mover Episodes
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