He consumes me and I hate it, his words strike my lungs hard. I knew I was deep, but until now I didn't know how deep I was until I faced reality. I am standing in the torrential rain in front of the person who had this kind of power over me, one...
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
It's been five minutes since Hero spoke the words I never thought I'd hear in person. "How did you find me, Josephine?" He looks down, playing with his fingers, and I try to look at all his features.
I don't know why he's so quiet. Usually, in all our conversations, he was very vocal and always had the last word. Yet now he's silent, avoiding looking into my eyes.
"Hero?" I put my hand on his arm, and he looks at me confused, raising an eyebrow. "Can I go? It's a little late." He frowns and looks at the clock on the dashboard.
"You want to leave?" He clears his throat, looks at me, takes a deep breath, and wipes his palms on his pants. He's nervous, just like I am. I didn't expect this to happen, nor did I know that I'll have a full-on conversation with him.
I pack my things and try to avoid his gaze. If I look at him again, I won't be able to get out of this car. "It's late. I know tomorrow is Saturday - it's already Saturday, but I know you usually have plans for the weekend, and I can't ruin your pla-." He interrupts me by grabbing my hand, and I look into his eyes again.
He lets go of my hand, then looks straight ahead, back at me, trying to say something, sighs in defeat, and unlocks the door. I guess that means I can go. I hate that he can't say what he's thinking. I know it took him a few minutes to answer when it was a serious conversation, but to see him struggling to find his words and how he was fighting his subconscious. As fascinating as it is, it is also sad. Just open yourself to me.
"Your hands are cold," I whisper.
"Hm?" He looks at me, confused, then at our hands, and lets go of my hand. "Sorry." He withdraws his hand and cracks his knuckles. I watched him crack all ten knuckles as if in slow motion, even if it all lasted a couple of seconds.
"Doesn't it hurt?" He looks at me again, and I smile at him slightly. "Your knuckles? Doesn't it hurt?"
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
"No, even so, I like the pain." He smiles, and I think I frown because he starts laughing and rubs his right eyebrow with his middle finger, resting his elbow on the door. "You look at me like I'm a circus animal."
