Path to Deciduous (Sequel to Road to Evergreen) | #Wattys2018

t h i r t y - e i g h t

My jaw tenses. "You were already broken when I found you." The light drains from her eyes and I immediately regret what I said. "I didn't mean that." I look away.

"Leave my hand, Adam." Her voice comes out calm- dead. When I don't, she tries snatching it away but I don't allow it. The palm of her hand is shaking so she clenches it to a fist. She makes sure my eyes are locked with hers. "Are you enjoying this? I mean I can't say I'm surprised. You showed me your true colours of who you can be and who you are like. And I just realized something, from the minute you grabbed my arm," she gestures to it. "You're just like Jeremy." I remember immediately the video. I let go.

Shit.

She heads straight to the door. "Harry, Spencer let's go. Now."

I let her go more than once but not now- not this time. I wrap my hands around her tinny waist and carry her right to the bedroom. She flaps her arms and legs, ordering me to let go, again. I place her on the bed and lock the door. She slams the door several times with her fist until she cries out. "Adam! Let," bang, "Me," bang, "Out," bang.

Spencer and Harry hurry at me, confused. "What the hell are you doing?" Spencer threatens.

"Look, you need to give me time with her. I have to make her change her mind. Please, take Harry to your place and take care of him. If you need anything let me know," I sigh. "She's all I have."

Spencer jaw tenses as he considers this. "She will kill me for this." I'm breathing. I'm actually breathing. "I'm coming back to check up on her and you better take care of her Adam. You really hurt her," he warns.

I nod, grateful. That's when they leave, and that's when Lesley locks herself from the inside, refusing to let me in. I'm starting to count my regrets as in I haven't thought this through. She refused to open up. She refused food, talking and anything that requires communication. The next day, I canceled all my appointments and stayed in. When she refused to open up, I lost it. I kept knocking repeatedly and slamming my body to the door. I'm worried. It's been a day.

I grab my keys and head to the door. If this is how she is going to play, I'm going to play harder. I round the corner of the building and grab the dumpster, pushing it through until it's where I want it to be. I climb on in and aim myself, jumping. My hands grab the rusted metal as the ladder slides down to the floor, hearing the agonizing squeak. I climb up the fire escape, and pull it back, locking it in it's place. I dart to the forth floor but when I'm there, I take a step back. Game over.

Just there on the bed she lays on my bed side as she wears my white shirt, exposing her lean and long legs. Her hair is a mess as it sprawls on the pillow. She looks innocent and I melt. The sunshine lays on her skin in stripped shades as if it was meant to touch her and only her. But I notice her sleeping position; it's odd I never thought of it before. She sleeps on her back which means she has the tendency to being bossy, stubborn and set in her ways. But her arm drifts above her head, so there's a chance that she's always ready to listen and help others. Psychology is so damn true.

It takes me few minutes of absorbing as much of her as I can, until I open the window with a swift move. She kept it open. I grin. Head first, duck, shoes off, keys aside, take steps toward the bed and sit.

I grab a strand of her hair that fell on her face and place it behind her ear. She flinches as her eyes flutter wide open. She takes a second to realize whats happening as she blinks and then she backs away. "Get out," she rubs her eyes with her sleepy voice. I shake my head no. "I'm tired. Please, leave me alone," she begs. Her voice never alters, it's always dead. I swallow back.

"I'm sorry." She looks away. "Lis?" She shuts her eyes as she almost, yet barely, winces internally. "I couldn't come up, look into the eyes of the woman I love and tell her that the person that is so dear to her is still alive. I tried. A lot. I thought about it all the time and every time it just wouldn't come out."

"Stop talking. I don't want to hear it," she cuts me off. I keep going. "I didn't want you involved so I tried solving it myself. I wanted to protect you from this ugly world. You're the only beautiful element that makes it tolerable. And I knew, after you found out, you would never be the same. We would never be the same." She meets my eyes. I run a hand through my hair. "I shouldn't have lied. I shouldn't have lied about your father. I shouldn't have lied about Maria and Max. I shouldn't have lied about your mother on drugs again. I shouldn't have done alot of things. But you know what? I did them anyway. Lis, I'm scared that you would've walked away from me. Everyone walked away. And after all of this, I couldn't find a reason for your to stay."

She shakhes her head. "You proposed to me to keep me locked in here. Here with you, in your head."

"That's how you feel, locked in?" I frown.

"You are locking me in!" She states out the obvious.

"Technically I'm not. You locked me out." I gesture to the door. She shrugs. "This is your goddamn home. And if you wanted to leave, you would've left already. But you didn't," I argue.

"Fine. I'll leave then," she challenges as she gets up. I roll my eyes. "You might want to wear some pants and take my shirt off."

When she realizes that I noticed my shirt, she blushes. Without hesitation, she takes out off with a swift movement as it lays on the floor beside her. My eyes widen. She's wearing her laced red bra with the matching underwear. My mouth turns dry. "Holy shit."

She fakes smiles as she seductively bends down to retrieve some blouse and shorts from her closet. My eyes scan her beautifully carved body from the narrowness of her waist, to her curves, down to long legs of hers. She'd feel so good right now. I clear my throat as she eyes me staring. "I liked my shirt on you."

"It's yours to keep." She crinkles her nose. It's funny. She thinks she's actually leaving.

"And if I asked you to name the things you love, how long would it take to name yourself?" I meet her eyes.

She opens her mouth to speak but closes it unsatisfyingly as she frowns. "What are you doing?"

I smile. "Quoting."

"I like this quote," she admits.