「tangerine blues」
warnings: luthor m. x margarette f. comfort.
luthor mendez has always disliked the heat of summer's sun. it's making him feel all sticky, not to mention the horrid smell of sweat overpowering his cologne. overall, a daunting experience.
maybe if he could just contact mr. vasquez to turn up with his vehicle, air conditioner set on hig—
"would you please hold the umbrella higher! only a few blocks away and we'll reach the venue," her words thrown between tired breaths. "no, don't even think about giving me that look. we are entrusted with this task and so we must carry it out as planned."
ah yes, with her by his side there is definitely no room for doing his way of things.
he pushes on, his steps heavy, with a hint of exhaustion evident on his features. gone is his usually cool demeanor, the esteemed student council vice president appears to look like he had just run a marathon. in the state he is in, said marathon must have been 3k long, located in the blazing sun.
his foot lands on an uneven surface and luthor would have fallen facefirst onto the concrete if it weren't for the girl pulling his tall frame to stay upright.
she sighs.
"let's take a break."
she leads him inside the humble eatery and goes straight toward the counter. luthor gets them a table, and positions himself under the patterned buzzing of the ceiling fan.
clenching on a pair of plastic bags containing orange soda, the chairwoman settles herself across him and hands out the refreshments. luthor willingly accepts it, the skin of his palm now soothed as it presses unto the moisture glistening from the uniquely packaged drink.
he takes a sip, now relieved of the parchedness from the sweltering dog days. and he notices the girl seated across him nibbling on her straw, clearly deep in thought.
"is something the matter, margarette?"
she looks up at him. her reaction 7 seconds too late.
"huh? ah yes, everything is alright! there's nothing to worry about," she assures him, giving luthor a tight-lipped smile.
he stares at her questioningly, not at all convinced by her weak attempt to conceal her fluttering thoughts.
his gaze burns into hers, and so she begrudgingly caves in. tilting her head closer, she lets out a murmur. luthor adjusts himself, lowering his head to better hear her hushed words.
"i'm just nervous about the incoming retreat, what if things don't go as planned? what if the venue doesn't look as good as the pictures on the website?" she heaves a sigh and fixes her attention on the carbonated drink, clutching the plastic with sudden force.
"i, i just want everything to go perfectly as planned. this is our batch retreat, our last bonding. i want all of us to make long-lasting memories that we can reminiscence to, so nothing should go wrong."
it dawns upon him.
their last summer.
she meets his gaze. the rush of gold colliding with grey riverscapes.
"call me sentimental all you want but i'll surely miss everyone."
margarette looks up at him with a sad smile.
"and i'll miss you, luthor."
in a few years, maybe 7 more, whisked away towards who knows where. both of them will give in to the chase. rushing in deadlines. sprinting through midnight study sessions. running after hand-spun dreams.
but he'll always look back to their late-night overtimes. breezy mornings in the execom office. lunch at 2 pm, enveloped by the sunlit silence of the empty cafeteria. afternoon tea sessions at his family's gazebo.
memories built-in through the years.
he wants more. with her.
"don't fret too much about us growing distant, margarette. i'm sure we can make time to have some tea once in a while." there is weight in his gaze, some sort of promise. luthor does not believe in such empty vows, he finds them fickle. but so are their transitory moments. one by one, he picks up the pieces. every fragment. every detail. from knowing glances to lingering smiles. he will hold on to each ephemera.
for margarette is his summer sun, the only warmth he'll ever bask into. and luthor would gladly give his all to witness another solstice.
he extends his arm, fingers wrapped around the plastic. the flavored soda pop, now at room temperature.
"to meeting each other on the other side," he declares.
she mirrors him, bumping her almost empty bag against his. "cheers!"
the pair down the rest of their drinks, liquid beverage popping effervescence into their mouths.
margarette smiles widely, and he is reminded of sunbeams flittering through his car windows in the height of afternoon's glow. only reserved for him. eyes crinkled and cheeks flushed, dry season's heatwave is indeed contagious. the corners of his lips curl up just a tad bit.
they sit there, under the torrid heat of 33°C. tongues tinged with the tangerine fizz, remnants from a sorry excuse of a toast. it still counts as something though, drizzling in a flush of maybes.
with less time on their hands, the both of them soak up the high tide of midsummer blues.
best wishes for another chance with you.