The Billion Dollar Girl

(Chapter 23)

ῼ Ash Castillo ῼ

“Don’t fall asleep,” I muttered, under my breath. Crap. She was asleep.

I shifted around awkwardly, her body leaning heavily into my shoulder. Ella mumbled something and I froze, terrified I’d woken her. I found myself staring at her sleeping face.

She was pretty. No doubt about it. I wondered if she even knew. It wasn’t the obvious, almost plastic beauty that resonated in all teenage girls, if they tried hard enough and had splashed enough money. Ella’s beauty was more elegant. Her skin so clear, that it was almost translucent under the moonlight. Hesitantly, my fingers reached for her cheek. They lingered there for a few moments, just over her skin, her body heat warming my cold fingers. I was even too scared to touch her – it felt like if I did, she might break and shatter into a thousand pieces.

I watched her breathe in and out, her chest rising and falling, the tips of her long hair wrapping around her face in the cold breeze. I felt a shiver run through her body and I suddenly realized she’d been curled up into a little ball. She must’ve been cold. I immediately pulled off my jacket, and draped it around her shoulders.

Slowly, I felt Ella’s muscles relax as she snuggled into the jacket. I watched her, enthralled. She snored softly, shifting and suddenly the alluring smell of her coconut shampoo filled my nostrils. Her lips parted as she mouthed as she dreamed. Watching her sleep was fascinating.

I’ve been with a lot of girls. I’ve held them, kissed them and even done more.

But none of that experience could prepare me for the electrifying experience that was simply watching Ella. We weren’t even touching. Just observing the gentle movements her delicate shoulders made, the corners of her cherry red lips that curled up into a smile, even the soft snoring that came from the back of her throat, was more magical to me than anything else I’d ever experienced in my life.

How can she mean so much to me? How is this feeling even possible?

I don’t know how long I sat there, on the cold balcony, just watching her. Time had stopped and for me nothing else existed, apart from the silver moon, the pitch-black night sky and Ella.

I only moved when smoke filled my lungs.

Moving as little as possible, I shifted to try and see what the smell was. My eyes widened when I saw the cloud of grey smoke. I cursed under my breath. The food Ella had been making earlier…

I stood up slowly, keeping Ella’s head up with my head. Her head fell, banging against my knee. She didn’t wake up and I silently thanked God that she was a heavy sleeper.

Regarding the scene before me, I tried to figure out what to do. On one hand, I really didn’t want to leave Ella lying on the cold, hard floor. What if she got sick or something? On the other hand, the stuff in the pan was probably on fire right now and I didn’t want to risk burning myself to death.

I had to get my priorities right. Ella being cold for a while was certainly the lesser evil.

Right. I had to get a move on, or we’ll both be dead. The fire alarm wasn’t sounding. Maybe something was broken. If I didn’t go know, I could be burnt alive. And I was too important to so.

So why wasn’t I moving?

I stood there, Ella’s head resting against my leg, waiting expectantly for my body to move. But I couldn’t just leave her there. That would be unchivalrous of me. She could get cold.

In the end, I positioned my hand behind her back and another under her knees. On the count of three, I stood up, pulling her weight with me. Ella was surprisingly light. I stared at her face, waiting for her to wake up and yell up me for being a “pervert”, or whatever else she called me. But the thing is, if she did wake up, I would have trouble denying it. I was enjoying this position – Ella’s dainty body pressed against mine – a little too much.