Eliezer’s Ange by Eden Auclair

II

praesens

[ latin for the present ]

cassiopeia is eighteen

she is a sophomore in university

“Cassiopeia!” Ansel exclaimedonce he opened his door and saw his best friend. A wide smile graced her lips and she dropped her bags and threw her arms around his neck while his arms went around her small waist.

“Ansel! I’ve missed you.” She cried softly in his neck. He felt his heartbreak all over again because her voice was home to him and it only made him miss her all the more. The last time they had been together was a month ago. A month too long.

They had a pact—every time he had an Él Clásico match, he’d buy her a plane ticket and in return, she’d stay with him for a few days. Despite her fights about him using his money on her, he, of course, did not care in the slightest.

After they graduated high school, Ansel went to play for Real Madrid while Cassiopeia got a full-ride scholarship to Florida State University. They were both going in their own directions; they were both busy, and the only time they essentially had with each other was when she flew out to his games. And after the games, Ansel would leave his team to be with her. They’d curl up on the couch in his bachelor pad and pop a bottle of champagne or drink a glass or two of wine. That was just them.

They pulled away from each other and he picked up her bag off the ground. Meanwhile, she was wiping away the salty tears rolling down her cheeks with the sleeves of her sweater.

“Come on, Cass.” He nodded toward the kitchen and she followed closely behind him.

“Moscato? Or white wine?” He asked once she was situated on the eccentric leather bar stool.

“Mmm, Moscato.” She smiled lightly. He poured them both a flute before clinking them together and holding one out to her.

“How have you been,” he questioned. He took a seat across from her at the island countertop.

“I’ve been good,” she answered happily, her eyes lighting up. “Classes have all been wonderful. It’s everything I ever dreamed of it to be and the coffee shop has become another home to me.”

“Are you taking a philosophy class at seven in the morning?” Ansel asked with a knowing smile and an arched eyebrow. He didn’t think for a second that she’d actually take it when she hatedwaking up early during her high school days. But he was taken by surprise when she laughed lightly.

“Yes, it’s my first lecture every Thursday morning,” she smiled.

“And what about chemistry?” He chuckled.

She grinned, rolling her eyes. “Of course I had to drop from upper level to lower level. I was really failing that shit,” she whined and they both broke out into laughter.

“How about you, Ansel? How have you been?” Cassiopeia asked, sipping her Moscato. Hearing his name roll off her tongue, Ansel just couldn’t help but fall for the girl in front of him all over again, he loved it. A few moments passed by without a word from either of them until she called out.

“Ansel.” Her weak voice drifted in the air. His eyes snapped to hers and he knew she was thinking the exact same thing he was.

They were no longer together.

After high school, Cassiopeia and Ansel ended their relationship. It should have been as simple as that, but it could never be, not with underlying feelings far too complicated for either of them to fathom. They were so passionately in love, yet stupidly in love. Certain they weren’t meant to be.

They didn’t know just how much this break-up would have wrecked them. They were best friends before they were a couple. And yet they were foolish enough to delude themselves into thinking they could be best friends once more, or friendsin the least. But they couldn’t; because now they counted on these boundless ties that only brought them melancholic feelings.

Neither of them knew how they felt, and they were both too stubborn to talk about it with each other.

“Cassiopeia.” Ansel called her name with translucent vulnerability He sounded rather choked up and it was tearing her apart.

“I’m sorry,” she forced out hoarsely, covering her face with her hands. She didn’twant to break down in front of her best friend. She promised herself over and over again she wouldn’t, yet here she was. She promised herself she wouldn’t get upset over this when it happened almost six months ago.

But sitting in front of him, she felt uncontrollable, feeling herself let go.

“Cass, don’t cry, please,” he pleaded with her hopelessly. But she just couldn’t hold back—she was remembering all too well their time together and their breakup.

It was last summer after they graduated, and they stayed together up until the very end. They knew it was coming, but they were afraid. They wanted to hold onto some sort of hope that they could last a little while longer.

They were the dream, the golden duo. Everyone wished to be them with their perfect chemistry, being together for all of five years; they were even known as high school sweethearts.

And then it all met its end. Because essentially, all that is gold cannot stay.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered once more.

“Don’t be, Cassiopeia.” Across the marble island counter from her, while she had her face covered, his eyes were closed as he remembered that night. The memory rushed to the forefront of his mind, and like putting salt to a wound, his emotions were undoing him by the second.

Ansel vividlyremembered that night—the way they said their goodbyes and kissed each other like it was their first time. She was teary-eyed and he had a deep frown etched on his face as they parted ways. They left each other with crestfallen faces and melancholic eyes, both lost in their own thoughts, it would take another passport to come back. Remembering everything was wrecking them both, especially since they were trying so hard to forget.

Cassiopeia and Ansel were fools of love, victims of fate; they believed they were still in love and didn’t know in the slightest they were anything but.

“I’m sorry, Ansel.” Cassiopeia apologized once more before finally uncovering her eyes. His eyes opened at the same time and their eyes locked with each other.

“Cassiopeia, pleasestop apologizing.” Ansel sighed sadly.

“Okay,” she replied softly, taking a sip out of her flute.

“Okay, boneca.” He breathed and smiled boyishly, and only when she gave him a tentative smile back, did he lighten up.

An awkward silence ensued with Cassiopeia gazing around at everything but him and Ansel desperately trying to find a comfortable topic and forget the mellow mood. “So, are you still speaking Arabic?” He asked suddenly and her eyes cut to his. She nodded slowly and answered him in nonchalance with her mother tongue. He openly gawked at her, clearly in awe of her.

“Were you expecting anything less,” she smirked.

“Never.” He smiled pridefully.

“Are you ready for your game tomorrow?” She asked before he could speak again.

It was his turn to scoff as he answered. “More than ready, sweetheart. We’ve been going hard at practice, spending hours on the field. I think we’ll kick Barcelona’s ass.” He wore a smug smile knowing just how much it would send her over the edge.

And send her over the edge is what it did as her grip on the flute tightened painfully and she gritted her teeth, smiling sarcastically.

“When Barcelona beats your ass tomorrow, I’ll be here to say eu te disse.”

I told you so.

She smiled innocently, her eyes piercing into his, challenging him. Ansel returned her stare for a second longer before rolling his eyes and giving her a goofy grin.

“Alright, alright, xuxuzinho,” he said dryly, “we’ll see.” Her self-satisfied grin only made him shake his head. (pumpkin)

They stayed conversing for a while longer before curling up on his couch and watching Netflix. With her head in his lap, a fluffy duvet covering her body, and his fingers raking through her hair, they’ve never felt so calm.

§

The next morning, Cassiopeia woke up in a familiar royal blue bedroom. It was her bedroom whenever she stayed with Ansel. She sighed blissfully and threw the covers off her body before stumbling her way out of the room and into the kitchen and living room in search of her best friend.

Watching him, Cassiopeia bit her tongue to stop herself from scolding Ansel for juggling a soccer ball while making a mug of coffee.

As if he knew she was there, his eyes cut to her figure leaning against the door frame as she stood with her arms crossed over her chest. She feigned a disapproving glare. He knew exactly why and gave her a boyish smile.

“I made you a cup of chai tea, Cass.” His hand wrapped around the pumpkin-colored mug, lifting it for her to see.

“You didn’t burn it this time, right?” Her sleepy eyes narrowed further.

“The door.” He deadpanned, pointing at said door. She had the audacity to look offended; gasping and bringing a hand to her chest. Ansel grimaced.

“Please shut up, it was one time,” he groaned, “let it go, Cassiopeia.”

A delicate smile graced her lips as she said, “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, I’ll be right back, let me wash up.” She disappeared down the hall.

Returning once again with a freshly washed face and the scent of a fresh-cut bouquet rolling off her in waves, she wrapped an arm around his shoulder. The other hand she used to lift her mug, and hummed in appreciation of the sweet aroma of her brewed tea.

“Thank you, Ansel,” she stated softly, sipping the drink.

“Of course, Cass,” he replied with an appreciative smile.

“What time are we going to the stadium?” She questioned amidst the silence between them.

“Around 4:30, the game starts at 6,” he answered simply.

§

Cassiopeia wore a Cheshire grin seeing her best friend run out onto the field in his jersey. She was dressed in an FC Barcelona jersey of her own. Those surrounding her would never understand why a girl wearing a Coutinho jersey was standing up, jumping excitedly and screaming and cheering loudly for Real Madrid’s star striker, Ansel Belizaire.

As the crowd went wild while the teams were getting into their positions, Ansel’s eyes flickered throughout the crowd until they met Cassiopeia’s. Pounding his fist twice against his chest and making a heart with his hands for Cassiopeia, she returned the gesture.

And the gamebegan.