Can You Feel It?

12.

We were getting closer to our apartments. Just a couple blocks now.

Yellow lights from the street lamps flashed in my peripheral, and a female dancer was putting on a street show in one corner. I watched her, wondering if she was a mother doing what she could to put food on the table. She looked old enough, and there was a small girl going around with a cap, urging people to probably drop a cent or two. Someone nice might even put in two dollars. She could be her daughter.

A memory surfaced, but I buried it before I could feel any semblance of emotions in a moment where I didn't need them. Nothing made me truly feel except some memories of a woman with blush pink lipstick and a broken smile for me.

I had noticed how Erex had reacted to the interactions between Amella and Darius and decided on the topic we'd share a heart-to-heart on for today. It was that easy.

"Mothers are magical." The words were out before I could stop them. 

I thought it and I said it. I skipped the evaluation part, and I knew that was a mistake, but I didn't have enough time to process and nit-pick the emotional discrepancies in my behaviors. 

A brief pause where nothing but the steady hum of the engine filled the car and then—

"They're the strongest people when it comes to their babies. Not all mothers, of course. But, yeah." He exhaled harshly, but I didn't look at him, still watching the dancing woman as we steadily crossed the crowd.

I saw the opening, my senses honing onto the opening he left, and I latched onto it like a shark in blood infested water does when it finds its prey.

"Are you close with your mother?" The question wasn't curious, just laden with a disconnected undertone, so it'd look like a natural question that popped up in conversation.

I felt his attention on me then. For a full five beats of my heart, his gaze burned a hole into the side of my face, but I refused to look at him. A challenge. A blank face. And a conversation that had been leading to just this question.

"Yes." Erex raked a hand through his raven hair, some strands falling over messily, and I looked away from his reflection in the window when he caught my eyes. "Everything I am is because of her. She's the strongest fucking woman I've ever known."

There was a story there. For me to unearth. Another way in.

I turned around then, finally locking eyes with him as we stalled in the traffic. My eyes should have been slightly wide to emphasize that I'd caught the ferocity of his words and been surprised by them. "She sounds like a wonderful woman, then." I narrowed my eyes at him then, "But I'm sure she'd raised a gentleman and not someone who slammed doors on their nice neighbor's faces. But oh well, to each their own." I shrugged.

He gave me a side eye, an amused hook to his lips. "It was a moment of weakness."

"Excuses." I huffed. "I'll let her know the same when I meet her."

He stiffened slightly and I rose a brow as if I hadn't known why he reacted that way. Amusement turned to suspicion. "And why exactly would you ever meet her?"

I gave him a 'duh' look.

"Um, you literally share a balcony with me. If she ever visited you, I'm sure I'd cross paths with her." I pointed out.

He blinked as if he'd forgotten that and then cleared his throat.

That was the exact reaction I required from him. Get him to share things with me one at a time, make it seem like I'd be a constant for a while, ruffle his feathers and then give him space so I didn't seem too imposing and he was left wondering about my every word. Throw him off-kilter until I was the only thing on his mind.