The Steps I Take to Get Closer to You

All The way

The traffic had gotten worse than it was when I drove to the airport.  It took me an full ninety minutes to get to Liam's condo.  Thank God he was good company.  Finally, I pulled up to the massive complex, stopping in front to the fancy revolving door.

"Thanks for driving me.  I'm, dead tired.  Jet lag, you know?" Liam said politely.  "Oh and the food too.  That was really good, plus I couldn't have bought anything.  Didn't have any dosh handy."  Dosh, was a British slang term for money, as I had learned later on.

I smiled brightly, it felt nice to be acknowledged and appreciated by someone, especially for something one did not for recognition, but simply out of love, kindness and empathy. "You're welcome baby.  It was nothing really."

He pecked my cheek tenderly with his lips as a sign of gratitude.  With that, I unlocked the car door and stepped out gracefully.  I lifted the trunk open and grabbed his cinder-block-heavy luggage.  The trunk shut with a loud bang, and that was when Liam decided to check up on me.

"What the hell are you doing?!", he asked, not irritated in a cross sort of way, but in a lovingly concerned way.

"Humph", I grunted in effort.  "I'm  getting your bags.  I'm not going to let you lift anything if you're feeling sleepy.  It seems barbaric."

"And I'm not going to let you develop a hernia.", he said, rolling his eyes.

"Whoa, when did you become a doctor?", I questioned teasingly.  "You let me bring it to you in the airport.  Why can't I carry it to your condo?"

"That was a five foot distance, practically child's play.  Five floors and two long-ass, winding corridors are a whole different story, Love. Making you carry my belongings is barbaric."

"Fine. You win this time my love.", I mumbled.

After that, he took the luggage bags from my hands in one arm, held my right hand in his one unoccupied hand and we walked inside.  I unlocked his door for him, it was the one thing he let me do, but he was indignant about it.

"Beinvenue à chez Liam!", he exclaimed with a grandiose that brought me into a long series of giggle fits.  Though, I'm not sure why. His French language ability in terms of technicality, and his accent was mellifluous, utter perfection, hell, better than an actual French-speaking person.  I wondered if I should tell him how wonderfully he spoke, or just keep my opinion to myself.  He wasn't the type of guy to let occasional compliments go straight to his head, but I decided to just keep it in my head, after all, what if he found it random?

"I've been here before, remember?", I said, gasping for air, trying to numb the abdominal pain caused by my violent laughter.  Yet, I couldn't rid myself of the small traces of my amusement.  The smirk remained placid on my face.

"Oh I know that Andrea.  I'm not that stupid and forgetful.  I just wanted to see you smile again.", he said, his voice buzzing with warmth as his face curved into a smile which could have almost outdone mine.

In spontaneous his moment of fun and jokes, he dropped the bags which we already precariously balanced in his one arm.  They hit the ground with a crash, bang, thud and boom that was ear-shattering, considering that they were only luggage bags.  I cringed, but it was a surprise to me when I saw Liam shudder at the ruckus.  I would've assumed he would be used to intense sounds, you know, being in the music industry.  However, it didn't really matter that much.  It was a golden opportunity for me to actually be able to do something helpful for Liam without his immediate intervention or protest.  I took it by the horns, unzipping the bags and sorting through the things that had to be laundered and the things that didn't have to be or couldn't be.  Halfway through my hurried dig through his mountain of used clothing, my hand hit a small, ivory box.  This wasn't the bag he allocated toward souvenirs and gifts for his Canadian friends, so it struck me as odd, or an error.  I picked it up for a more thorough, close inspection.  Alas, the box gave no clue, not even the slightest clue, as to what its contents could be or who the small, ivory box might be for.  I stood up from my crouched position over the luggage and brushed off some dust which clung to the lace on my top.  For the first time, I looked around and my gaze fell straight into Liam's eyes.  It occurred to me that perhaps me finding this box was no coincidence.  Maybe Liam wanted this to happen.  The thought was tempting, very tempting.  My fingers traced the felt roses and patterns, but my action lacked any tenderness or care.  Curiosity consumed me to a toxic degree.