Getting Wilder ✔️

issue twenty-first: scalpels and stitches

"Your mom allowed you to stay here," he observed. "Gotta say I'm a little surprised. She's always...sheltered you so much." A strange shadow passed across his features that I couldn't quite place. I gazed at him for a while, wondering again what sadness he was hiding.

I nodded, crumpling the foil in my hand and placing it in my pocket, making a mental note to dispose of it later. "I had to be a little stubborn-"

"More than usual?" he raised an eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not stubborn."

He chuckled softly. "The fact that you disagree with the fact that you're stubborn ironically proves that you are indeed stubborn."

I gaped at him. "I'm so not-"

"Whatever you speak henceforth shall merely be a confirmation of my words, Nicola," he said solemnly, clearly enjoying teasing me way too much. I had the sudden urge to wipe the smug expression off his face. 

I scowled. "Don't call me that."

He gazed at me in a way that made my heart flutter. "Why not? It's a wonderful name. Sweet. Unique. Unexpectedly beautiful. Suits you."

He finished the chocolate nonchalantly as if his words hadn't just set my heart to fourth gear. "You sound like my mom," I muttered.

"Honey, you need to go out more-" he said in an uncanny impression of my mom. I gaped at him, stunned. 

"That's...surreal," I responded as he started chuckling again, his eyes twinkling. It was strange how much happier, more carefree he seemed with me rather than when I saw him at school. It always seemed like he was shouldering some unseen burden there. The thought warmed my chest. That I got to see this side of him. As if it was exclusive. But I knew better than to hope.

I was burning to ask him about a million questions. About what had happened between us. What did it mean? Was he going to keep pretending that it meant nothing? Would he really break up with Kendra? 

"Do you remember the time you broke your leg?" I asked instead as he scowled. 

"Shit, yes. How could I forget?" he shook his head. "And you covered up the entire plaster with your signatures and messages and left no room for anyone else," he grinned at the memory. "I still remember the message that you wrote-"

I remembered it too. I smiled and spoke, "Slenderman.exe has stopped working."

"Slenderman.exe has stopped working," he spoke at the same time and we fell into a fit of giggles. My heartfelt message had been a jab at his computer geekiness that he usually kept hidden. Even though he had complained that there was no space left for anyone else's message, he had also admitted that he didn't need anyone else's messages. Like always, he had made me feel like I was enough.

He shook his head and my heart fluttered again. I hadn't expected him to remember such a minor detail. "And the time that the cricket ball hit me on my forehead," he continued, his eyes trained on mine.

My heart seized at the memory. I remembered the gory details of his injury clearly. The way blood had streamed down his temple, covering his entire face and chest. It had happened on the playground in the eighth standard. A mistake by one of the cricket team players. I had been terrified to see him that way. But injuries for a sportsperson like him were common. 

"Yeah," I nodded, shuddering slightly at the memory. I recalled how he had a massive bandage on his head for weeks after and started giggling foolishly. He gazed at me, smiling as he nudged me. 

"What?"

I giggled harder.

He laughed softly, his eyes twinkling. "Wha-at?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "You looked like Megamind for a week."

He sighed, his eyes exaggeratedly forlorn. "You revel in chaos, Evans," he pouted adorably. "Was my anguish amusing to you?"

I smiled brightly. "No, but your overlarge head was."

"I regret giving you that KitKat," he groaned. "You don't even deserve it."

I gazed at him, stunned by how natural everything suddenly seemed. "How's Wilson?" I asked.

He scrunched up his face, thinking hard. "Er...I think last I heard he was getting married."

I gaped at him. "Huh?" I was bewildered, unable to grasp how he could talk about his own brother's wedding so nonchalantly.

He chuckled. "He is really impulsive. He said he loves his new girlfriend so much he is sure she is 'the one' and wanted to marry her. I don't think he will though because the next day he put up a sad quote on his status."

I laughed. "And you said I revel in chaos, Collins."

He shrugged. "I mean...how do you even know if she is 'the one'?"

I gulped. "Er...I guess it just feels right."

"Feels? Like how?" he asked, his brows furrowed as if he really wanted to know. I felt my heart racing suddenly. 

"I...I guess it feels..." I took a deep breath and gazed into his eyes, rooting my entire being into the mystical irises. "Comfortable. Natural. Just...like home."

"Like...secure and safe?" he asked softly.

I nodded, biting my lip and tearing my eyes away from him and fixing them on the woman seated on the opposite bench who now had her mouth open and was drooling incessantly. "I...I guess I believe that lust is too fickle. That at the end of the day it is understanding, caring, the friendship that keeps two people together."

"Hm," he sighed softly as if pondering my words. "I...I think you're right." He was quiet for a long time, biting his lip before he looked up at me and asked, "Do you think everyone finds that...friendship?"

My cheeks heated up and I was sure I would melt into a pool. "I...do think everyone gets a chance at least."

I fixed my eyes back on his and for a second it felt like both of us were holding our breaths. His gaze was unwavering. The entire world dissolved into insignificant pinpricks for several blissful seconds. Finally, he spoke, "Do you want to watch a movie? Or a few? We have the entire night."

I nodded and watched as he rose to his feet and went and sat on the floor, spreading his legs out in front of him and leaning comfortably against the tiled wall. He raised an eyebrow and gazed at me questioningly, silently asking for me to join. I rose to my feet, sitting cross-legged beside him as he fished out his phone and earphones, handing one of the earpieces to me. 

I chuckled when I saw the movie that he chose. Madagascar.

"I thought you'd like something light," he said softly and I was stunned at the gentleness in his eyes. The soft glimmer. 

I nodded as he began the movie. About half an hour into it, I yawned. "Hey," He noticed immediately, gazing at me from the corner of his eye. "Are you tired?"

I shook my head, stifling another yawn as he turned to face me, his forehead wrinkled in worry. "You should rest," he declared, pulling me closer so I could feel his comforting presence. 

After a few minutes, the sound of the air conditioning, that of his gentle breathing and his embracing warmth started lulling me into sleep. I found myself leaning into him, shock paralyzing my system when instead of pushing me away, he pulled me into his chest, stroking my back gently. The last thing I remembered before falling asleep was his tender kiss on the top of my head. 

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Did Nico and Wilder just have their unofficial first date? What do you guys think? Is Wilder finally coming to terms with his feelings? What are his feelings anyway?