What About Us? - Book 1

Chapter four

I had just entered the flat and already she was standing there, looking enchanting in only a messy bun and worn ebony t-shirt.
"Dan, I text you earlier. Where did you-"
"I'm sorry." I mumbled, heart gushing with guilt as her smile faded and she miserably peered into the distant.
"It's okay."
"I...I was being honest though I swear, I'm always true to my words. I'll wait," Pausing, my rough fingers tucked under the softness of her chin, to direct her to my gaze. "for you."
She rolled her eyes, moving away slightly. My heart shattered, stomach dipping in disappointment.
"What?"
"What?"
Silence. And another eye roll.
fuck this.
I grumbled something random and inhuman like to myself as I turned on my heels. I felt her sigh hot and filled with nerves as it drained through the leather of my jacket. She then held my arm gently.
When i faced her however her face was blank. And when she spoke, she didn't even flinch despite knowing the words would hurt me.
"Don't wait up on me because we'll never be together."
I gulped, stepping back I could feel my mind scrunching up like a worthless sheet of paper, my heart halting all together - I had to catch to my breath.
"Willow, please..."
"I'm going to the studio."
"The studio?"
"I was going to meet up with Mark."
She leaned forward to grab her coat from behind me, her scent filling my nostrils no longer familiar but like poison in my veins.
Although I felt hate for her, I found myself staring out the window watching her leave.

Now when in heartache, you should go down to the pub and drink a few pints just to numb the pain or perhaps fuck a random person, that works too. Sounds normal, I suppose. I should go and do that shouldn't i? That's normal for a man who's being played too many times.
Instead however I remain by the window, fingers pressing into the glass shield like a barrier I couldn't quite go through - the barrier of loving her.
All I really fucking wanted was to love her. I just wanted her to feel it. To feel how much I adored her, even when she was moody I couldn't help but find the angry strains and furious eyes beautiful.
Fuck, she was beautiful.
She was funny, alluringly fascinating. She was creative too. She's into art. She hangs artwork all around our flat. She wants to be an artist but right now she's doing some university course on portraiture though she never attends - she says she hates it because of the people, not the course.
"They're not like us. Their passion is all about money not art" she told me once.
I think adoringly of her drawings and then remember something. A flashback.

"Your eyes are really beautiful."
"Not as beautiful as you." I turned but her expression wasn't humorous.
She was peering into my eyes, her eyebrows furrowing as she leaned towards me. Her iris' were gushing with passion.
Passion for...me?
I blushed at the idea.
"Can I draw them?"
"What?"
"Can I draw your eyes? In fact how about I do a portrait of you?" She was grinning with enthusiasm as she hurriedly went in her messenger bag for her sketchbook and pencils.
I gulped, somewhat nervous with her intensive gaze yet excited with the thought of having her full attention on me. Just me.
"Okay." I turned towards her.
That gaze. I flinched, looking away.
"No, Dan. Look at me."
"Why?" I ran my through my hair as she carefully guided my wrist back down to my lap and lifting my face up, her thumb grazing my jaw.
"I need to see your eyes. They're quite remarkable."
"Really?"
"Yeah. The combination of the caramel and the green, the hint of gold. It's different." She peered up with a soft, genuine smile. "I like different."

As the memory past through my mind, I beamed to myself.
"Danny?" Looking up, I jumped.
It was Mark. I blink rapidly.
When the hell did he come in?
He wasn't alone however.
Willow and Glen were lurking in the kitchen behind him and I felt my heart frizzle. The way he was standing so close to her. The way she smiling up at him.
Despite my jealously however I had to admit; they looked pretty good together. They were the perfect height for one another considering I was always towering over her and the matching glow of their indigo eyes was an obvious clue. My eyes were a black whirlpool compared to her bright ones.
I frowned, heart sinking.
Maybe he would make her love again though because clearly, clearly I wasn't good enough for her.