Destined Love

Destined Love - Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Twenty Nine:

With flaming eyes, Ariella takes a backwards step, almost knocking her elbows into the wall. Even without the close proximity, I can still feel the heated vibrations pouring from her body and towards mine. The piercing shades of greens in her coruscating round pools blaze as she angles her face up at me, in what I'm uncertain to be a look of disappointment or anger.

I don't speak, because there's nothing left for me to say.

Ariella's nostrils flare once, and then her soft shade of pink lips clench into a downturned curve. For a moment, I wonder if she's preparing a harsh come back, but with one final tick below her cheek bone, she takes a step forward and then pushes past me. Her shoulder clips the side of my arm, transferring her heat onto my skin.

The warm breeze she leaves behind smells of French vanilla and honey, causing my tongue to salivate. I lick my lips, wanting to taste the aromas, but the sharp slam of a door behind me breaks through my momentary haze. Turning around, the room now silent minus the whine from the air-conditioner, I realise Ariella has left. My little confession about not keeping her promise rendered her speechless.

And, by her hasty reaction, I'd guess it wasn't in a way that'd work in my favour.

There was so much irritation radiating from her today, something I've never seen—or felt—from her before. I honestly believed she didn't have it in her, that she was incapable of letting the negative emotions through; a quality that has a lot of perks, but many downfalls. There's a bit of anger in all of us, somewhere; it's just the matter of what—or who—activates the emotion. Apparently today, I was that activation.

The arrogant lines to my face even out into a tense expression. I stand under the AC for the next few minutes, giving Ariella the time to get back to her Checkout. I decide it'd be wise to avoid her for a while. Maybe even time won't help me, but it's worth a shot. Hearing muffled voices on the other side of the door, I quickly slide through the only exit before the workers can spot me.

I follow an isle of assorted cans and turn a corner to bypass the Checkouts. When I reach the back exit, I push against the bulk doors and step out into the afternoon air.

Abandoned trolley's are scattered around the garbage space, a few workers stand to one side of the semi-enclosed area puffing away at their cigarettes under a cloth of shade. The ashen scent of smoke is almost tempting, but is overshadowed by the urge to distance myself further away from Ariella. Even with the seductive, pungent odour wafting through the air, the sight and smell of a cigarette no longer has a relentless pull on me.

As I slip through a broken fence and start walking towards the front car park, I'm surprisingly undecided as to whether that's a good thing or a bad thing. Cigarettes were a type of refreshment for me back in the day—could they suddenly become just an insignificant stick of tobacco rather than a satisfying relaxant in such a short amount of time?

The moment I step into the parking bay, thick droplets of water begin to spray down from above. Looking up, I notice a family of grey clouds coating the once blue sky. The drops increase in speed as I jog towards my truck, parked under a patch of shade that's no longer needed. The air turns from a warm breeze to a sticky, humid draft. Beads of rain water drip from my hair to my eyelashes; I blink them away as I jump into my truck.

The heavy pitter-patter against my car will be my music for the short drive home.

Easing out of the car park and onto the main road, the earlier conversation between Ariella and myself finds its way to the forefront of my mind. In no way had it gone the way I'd expected—I thought I was prepared for anything, instead I was in the middle of something I never would have predicted.