Icarus

Tickets

Tickets

The burnt-orange sky illuminated the metallic wrapping paper that covered the gift Tate had under his arms. Cassie raised an eyebrow; he already knew she was waiting for an explanation.

"This is for you," he said with the most innocent smile she'd ever seen on him. He handed the present to Cassie and she took it with both hands.

"Why?" She asked.

"Thought your place needed a bit of color."

Cassie was still puzzled by the nice gesture; but after all, it was Tate, and the first thing she learnt about him was to expect the unexpected. The lampposts were on although the night had not yet fallen; the light eclipsed the curves of his body and brightened him with a golden glow.

"Well this interesting..." she said excited, opening the gift and taking out the object out of the box.

She smiled. Cassie could not believe that Tate remembered what her favorite painting was. She slid her finger through the glass; the photograph of the painting was surrounded by a black frame. Tate had his arms crossed on his chest, a satisfactory smile rested on his lips.

"Do you like it?" He acted as if he was relaxed and carefree about Cassie's opinions but she noticed he was tapping his feet nervously on the ground.

"I...I..." The air seemed to snatch Cassie's words out of her mouth; she didn't know how to respond. Tate, like the gentleman he was, finished the sentence for her.

"Of course I do, Tate!" he said satirically, in a high pitched voice while covering his mouth with one hand.

"That voice impression though..." Cassie teased while laughing.

"Music to your ears."

"Come in," Cassie said while opening the door. Tate followed her inside the building. They stood in silence for a few seconds, waiting for the elevator. "So...this is why it took you so long to come back?"

"Affirmative."

The elevator finally arrived and they got in. The building where Cassie lived was so very old. The elevator was only a small wooden box with a mirror on one of the walls. Cassie tried to ignore the fact that he was close enough for her to see the pulse pounding in his neck. Tate however, made mention of it.

"It wouldn't be so bad if the elevator got stuck for some reason right now," he whispered, the implication sensuously obvious as he lightly brushed her shoulder with the back of his hand.

Cassie's pale face turned red as she pushed the button for the seventh floor.

"Remember when I told you I liked it when you frowned? Scratch that...blushing becomes you."

"Shhh," Cassie hissed to silence him while covering her embarrassment with the painting.

Tate laughed and added, "Blood is rushing to her face like lava from a volcano...omg her face is as red as a ripe tomato."

Cassie couldn't help but laugh and tease back, "How do you even come up with lame comments like that?"

"I'm a poet, didn't you know?"

"There is nothing poetic about comparing my face to tomatoes."

"But then again, there is something poetic about you."

That backhanded compliment brought on another flush of blushing in Cassie's face.

"Alright...I'll bite...what is it?"