Every now and then, a man named.. Apolinario spends his free days looking outside the window, gazing on some papers or rolling his wheeled chair around the old wood flooring of the white mansion.
He has not retreated to the cabins nor his hometown. Starting way back when that man... Emilio, invited him to be his secretary... his trusted man of advice. "Your words are the only ones I trust my life and my country with" such a foolish thing a proper man with a family could say.
Pole felt the wind blowing inwardly. He closes his eyes as he breathes in the clean air. But thwn his heart clenched... as if he felt something deep inside. His head quickly turns by the entrance, with only the footsteps of the disappearing señor presidente is heard and seen. Pole never recognized any of his emotional connection too deeply before. 'It must've been because he's the only person in this mansion who's living with me.' Such odd chances. A man who was inwardly a coward to his enemies, deciding to push his kawals away... choosing 2 specific.. silent maids and the rest is... the two of them.
Pole turns his attention back to the window. "He's really something.." *"something odd to understand too well sometimes"*
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Yawning, he reviews the constitution papers. He facepalms as formally respectful as possible. *"I shall not believe that he wrote this on his own,"*
Every pages made him sigh, every pages made him reread, every pages made him look side to side. He denies the need to laugh and smile. He denies something he's doing inwardly. *"The usual you are, Miong,"*
The last page is all left before they share their opinions. Pole sighs, hopefully he could easily get through this beloved person sitting next to him.
His heart took a leap and his mind goes blank. He looks at Miong who's eyes were knowing and... familiar... something Pole has been scared to admit and face. "Señor presidente.." he wanted to ask... but nothing else came out.
*"you're absurd for the risk you take,"*
2 weeks ago, "pole?" "O?" "What do you think, are the rules I make ought to be broken by our workmen once I decided it firmly?"
Pole stops his writing and looks up shortly. He unconciously smiled. "You are still the last decision... I don't think that has come into your mind yet, Señor Presidente" Miong didn't change. He's still some strange child-man at times as if his mind goes off just to pull out a dumb question to ask to Pole to hold their daily conversation.]
You... foolish married of a man.... is this... what you really wanted to...
*thump* yet again, Pole is visited by the thoughts and his "delusional attachment" towards this man. His face was red like the fabric of their flag. His cheeks as warm as the cigarettes Miong always wraps his lips around. The breeze as suddenly humid like how Miong's breaths hits his nape whenever he leans in to watch what he does. Was it still a mystery... or was he just... denying how trench-deep his heart is shoveling itself into just by meeting those rich brown eyes.