Chestnuts

He was a cold person.

With a heart of steel, he was never understood by anyone. Nothing, nobody touched him. Nothing could touch him.

He was quiet, watchful. Dark, glossy hair fell in large sweeps across his forehead and behind his ears; always messy, always enrapturing. But his eyes… Oh his eyes! His orbs were an alluring, penetrating scarlet. His face was accustomed to only a limited handful of expressions: an unwavering frown, a piercing scowl, and his well-known death glare. Everyone desired to infiltrate his walls, but he denied them all access. Everyone but two. He lowered his barriers for only two people: his best friend, and a mere girl.

Admired and envied by all students and viewed as a delinquent by teachers, he was the talk of the school. Finding himself rising effortlessly above his peers, the raven-head attended classes on whim, rarely studied, and aced every test. With inscrutable eyes and seemingly divine features, he was both a wonder and a mystery to those around him.

The girl, well the girl… she was a different story. A wide smile always gracing her features, she was lucid, cheerful, and clumsy. A jovial, bouncy spring was always present in her steps. Striving for a perfect academic record, she was often misunderstood as a lazy student by her teachers. This girl, she treated the him differently. Not because he was different, but because unlike everyone else, she viewed him as an equal.

Upon learning that he never took a fancy towards sweets, she fervently -childishly- clapped a hand across his eyes and presented him with a small bag of baked chestnuts — the same nut that matched the color of her eyes.

He would scowl. But… The baked chestnuts were sweet, tangy, and surprisingly pleasant. Like her. It was a special warmth that melted in his mouth as it spread across his body like a fuzzy blanket. The chestnuts were small in size; they could be popped into the mouth and eaten with no trouble at all. Every time she visited, a bag of chestnuts would follow behind.

Enjoying his time with her, he slowly learned to love chestnuts. Over time, the girl learned to accept his sardonic remarks as she treasured his rare smiles and subtle embraces.

Chestnuts soon became his favorite things in the world. He would always eat them with her, day after day, season after season, year after year.

The autumn she passed on, he strolled through the park slowly. Leaves were beginning to transform into any given color – amber, yellow, red, gold… and apricot-tinted hazel.

A street vendor was selling baked chestnuts nearby. The familiar scent lured him in, engulfing his body. He was reminded of the school comrade he used to spend long hours with, eating chestnuts. When he stepped up to the vendor, he stopped. Under dark bangs, he stared wide-eyed at the chestnuts baking slowly in the sun. He exhaled slowly, steadily.

That autumn, he realized that chestnuts…

They had shells.