"For one day! Just for one school day, can you just leave me alone? For one day. That's literally all I ask for." I groan, making it around the corner and gently pushing past people, knowing very well he is following me. The day hasn't even started and already, he is on my case.
I'm literally starting to get a mental life sized dent of him and it's frustrating me. I haven't even mentally recovered from the nonsense he spewed from the day before yesterday, and now he is here to dish out more. I can't. Not today. I need a breather. I need to process my own thoughts before handling this nineteen... twenty-one-year old boy.
"I can't do that, mate."
I stop in my tracks before turning to him with a glare, Gucci for eye bags and marshmallow cheeks after my crying marathon in the early hours of the morning. I catch him in the act, running his hands through his hair. His eyes wander around the sea of students moving in whichever direction, and I hold my crochet bag against my chest. Maybe it takes him a moment to realise we've both stopped and I'm glaring at him. But even before he does, his eyes mindlessly dart from place to place, face nonchalant and he doesn't even blink right up until he looks down at me. I'm at my fullest height, being under his shoulder. His eyebrow raises as his pupils literally dilate when they land on my face.
"Micah. This is getting out of hand, honestly. I'm actually very tired, mentally. I don't want to have to go back and forth with you every day or every other day about the same thing. I can't do it. I am being so honest with you. I'm not even being difficult." I sigh softly, eyes dropping from his intense blue gaze to his faded purple long sleeve. "I just need some space today. That's all I'm asking for."
Micah squints his eyes at me for a moment as I deliver my unprepared speech. His eyes scan my body as though trying to locate the reason for my feeble state. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong, I'm just tired. Did you hear what I asked?" He doesn't respond; his eyes only lift back to my very own and then blinks again. He isn't believing me but I am hoping he doesn't push more. "Can I have space today?"
"I need to make sure you're okay—"
"I said I'm fine, Micah. I just need space otherwise I won't be fine. That's all I'm asking for. Bother me tomorrow." I turn and start to walk away. I don't even make it a step and a half before he grabs hold of my forearm and turns me back to face him. I can't... I don't look at him. The stupid thoughts come flooding back. "Micah—"
"Tell me what's wrong."
I take the moment to frown, feeling the stinging sensations behind my eyes. He takes that as whatever he wants; one moment, we're standing front to front with my head down and him holding my arm. The next, he has my hand gently placed under my chin, tilting my head up to him. I don't look in his eyes still, but my eyes linger around his neck and chin. Clean shave, that's probably why I still think he's a child. He almost has a baby face.
"Gertrude?" His voice is softer now, almost cautious, but very much present. "What's wrong?"
"I'm just tired." I chuckle, this time looking into his eyes. "I just need space."
He is intensely looking at me, eyes darting from one eye to the other as he tries coming up with his own answers to fill his curiosity. "I can't do that. You're my... Because we are..." Can't even believe he is hesitant to say the word now. "I can feel it. I can sense it. When there's something wrong, I can sense it. You can't lie to me about that."
I lick my lips a bit. "Look, do you see my friend with me? She knows to leave me alone. She isn't here because she knows I need space. I need space, Micah." I pull my arm out of his hold before taking a step back, allowing his hand to top from my chin. "You can bother me tomorrow."
Like the first time, I turn my back to him and walk towards the back exit of the school. This gives us access to the more or less restricted area of the school. Well, not exactly restricted, but no one comes here, simply because there's no reason to, when there's an entire garden the school possesses. The nice thing about here is that it's so private. It's quiet, most often than not, and this is exactly where I spend my Valentine's Day; seated basking in the sun and crying at the same time.
I think it's a great way to spend this day, or I'd be somewhere doing drugs and getting completely high off of something to forget this day even exists.
After closing the back door behind me, my watery eyes scan the top hill, making sure no one is here for whatever reason. When I'm sure of it, I drag myself right to the top, close to where the trees lean over and provide shelter. I drop my bags on the green grass and then remain standing besides them. Instantly, I cover my face fully and groan lightly.
It takes as good as a few minutes before I feel a bit at ease, despite tensed up and chocked at the thought of her. Them. I think of them both. Valentine's day won't ever be the same, and it's never been the same for the past four years.
My hands wrap around my torso as I chuckle. "You'd think it would get easier, hmm?" I peek up at the sky with wet lashes partially covering my view. "It doesn't. It never does."
Valentine's Day's was... is my mother's birthday. I think she found her birthday a bit overrated because it was celebrated for something entirely different. I can't blame her; she couldn't exactly celebrate in peace because everyone else seemed to be celebrating as well, for different reasons. Nonetheless, my dad always made sure to make the day special for her. No roses, but stacks of junk food. That's what she loved. Lerato loved that, simply because she knew my mum would give her left overs, which happened to be half of whatever my father gave her. It was a routine since she was young.
"I'll ask him to buy you the same junk in your honour." I look back up at the sky. "And in your honour, too, Lerato."
Lerato is my sister. My other half. Younger than me by a year and a couple of months but we treated ourselves like twins. She's the loving one, the one who cared a lot for people, about people. She was somebody who desired to help the environment and the community. I think she would have been great in whatever field she planned to break through. That's the thing though, life is unfair and people don't always reach where they want, because somebody or something selfish would interrupt it all, and a lot of the time, the damage is permanent.
They are dead. I saw them die with my own eyes.
"But if I went with you, who would have stayed with daddy?" I mutter, eyes pinched to attempt to hold the tears back, but they are quicker; they split past quicker and slide down my face like some avalanche. "He needed you, you know? He needs you now. He misses you. I miss you. It gets tougher every year, not easier."
My body tenses a bit and I turn around, instantly screaming in shock and surprise when I see Micah standing not too far from me, arms in his pockets and a nonchalant look on his face. His eyes literally twinkle because of the sunlight hitting his face square.
My heart sits in my throat and I place my hand on my chest, blinking deeply before wiping my cheeks. "You can't. You cannot stalk up on people like that. How did..." I look back down the hill. I would have seem him coming. "How did you get here? Or find me?" I turn to glance at him slightly. "I told you, I want space. Why can't you understand that?"
"I followed you." I sigh, wiping my cheeks again with the back of my hands. Of course he followed me. Of course, why did I expect different? "Mate—"
"No. No. Don't even, okay? Micah, I have no strength to entertain you at all. Not today. I asked so nicely but still. I just want to be left alone."
"Then why come to campus? Where there's a bunch of people here to celebrate Valentine's. Why come here?"
I bite my bottom lip, hand scratching my forehead. "Why come here?"
"Yeah." He mutters right back. "What's the thinking?"
"Because... my father needs space as well. He has to be at home and where else would I go to cry and not be bothered? Where else can I go, since obviously I can't come here anymore."
"Tell me what's wrong, then. I can fix it. How do I fix it if I don't know what the problem is? What if I can take away the pain?"
I can't help but scoff at him, tears brimming the waterline of my eye. "You didn't tell me you can bring people from the dead."
He doesn't respond immediately. His eyes drop down from mine at my sarcasm, and he then sighs softly as he blinks in thought. That's my cue to take a step away from him and remain on the other side of my bags. My arms fold over my chest and I look at the school building. It's just a blank wall. No windows or anything. From here, I can't see any visible window since the trees block them out. It's still somewhat of a nice and peaceful scenery, the wall and door.
It was peaceful, until Micah came and disturbed it all.
Again, I tense up, this time because I can sense him closer to me than before. I don't have to turn around to know he is standing somewhere close behind or besides me. "I can help with the pain."
I don't think I've heard that before. I can't even help be curious by his words. And his calmness. Maybe I'm also intrigued by how persistent he is. Even if I decide to curse him out, he will still stay here. He'll still insist to be around me. I don't get it.
I turn my head to the side a bit, squinting when the sun hits my pupil. He is standing besides me, as tall as can be, and he happens to just be basking in the sun as well. His hair looks shiny. The bridge of his nose is nice, long and almost too perfect. From the side, it looks like his bottom lip has lip filler, the way it just looks too perfect. His ear is partially covered by the waves of his hair strands. He looks unreal from this angle. Almost angelic.
"How?" I mumble.
It's his turn to look down at me. I'm sure it doesn't even strain his neck since he is looking down at me. Features as relaxed as possible, but his eyes dart around my face, making sure to take note of my slightly puffy cheeks and wet lashes. His lips part as though he wants to say something, and then he hesitates. Maybe it's the first time seeing him hesitate, like he is cautious of what he will say next, or thinking of what to say that will make sense to what I find doesn't make sense.
He's probably going to say something that involves him being a silly wolf.
His eyes drop to the ground, and then he hums. He takes me by surprise by lowering himself onto the grass, legs stretched out and hands a bit behind him to support his body. He then looks at me, subconsciously flicking his head so his hair isn't covering his eyes. "Sit."
I do. Without hesitation, but I make it seem like I'm not interested, so I fake a sigh and settle down a bit further from him. Not too far, but I definitely don't grace him with being that close either. I raise my legs to my chest and wrap my arms around them.
"We can sit. And you can cry, and get it off of your chest. And when you're done... we can talk. Or not talk."
"What if I don't want to do any of that stuff? Specifically with you?" I glance at him, sniffing a bit. "My own best friend knows that on this day... or certain days, rather, I would rather prefer to be alone. She respects that and gives me all the time I need. I appreciate that so much. I've never had somebody be so..." I softly sigh, shrugging shoulders and looking back to the front when he turns to look back at me, "persistent. You can't take 'no' for an answer."
I find myself looking back at him when I see his hand raise up to move strands from his face. Meanwhile, he clears his throat a bit and leans forward, this time slouching in a sense. "I know that you don't take me... it seriously when I constantly mention the fact that you are my mate, but it's true. You are. That means a lot of what has to do with you, has to do with me as well. You yourself are not exempt from that. As your mate, it's a duty of mine— it's not even a duty, it's a desire as much as it is an obligation, for me to make sure you are okay. I don't have to know everything that's happening in your mind, and even if you were a wolf yourself, you would be able to block me out of your mind if you created your own mental wall. You're human, so I have no access whatsoever in your mind unless we've..."
I just blink at him.
He pauses his speech, glancing at me for a moment before looking down at his legs. "Until I've imprinted on you. That's something we can discuss a long while from now. My point is, even if I don't have access to your mental state as I would if you were a wolf, it does not mean I don't know when something is wrong. I can feel it and I can see it. We don't know each other, and at this rate, it will take a while for us to get to where I need us to get to, but because I'm an Al... a wolf of a ranking out of my control, and unfortunately I can't exactly change it as much as I have tried. Because of that, I need you."
My heart literally drops in my stomach, and my breath hitches right at my throat. If the world could suck me in dry right now, it would be amazing. My lips part because I want to say something, possibly curse him out for saying something. But what do I say to that?
All I can think of doing is slapping him across the face for even saying something like that.
"That's my point. I need you. My wolf needs you." He spares me a glance, licking his lips with a shrug. "Anyways... it's my job to make sure that you're okay. And when you're not, it's my job to provide comfort."
He's in deep. He's way too in deep with this fictional story of his. Never mind a pickup line, this is a whole narrative.
I sniff, chuckling a bit and shake my head. "Way to make this about you."
"Just so you know why I'm persistent, like you said." I hear the fleeting amusement in his voice. "What... happened to him? Or her? Them?"
"Them." I mumble. "I don't... I don't like talking about it that much. It's kind of still a painful subject, sort of. Or maybe I didn't quite heal. Obvious I didn't heal, because here I am four years later, crying at the top of this hill in a university, as people celebrate Valentine's." I bitterly laugh, glancing at him.
He doesn't have an amused look. It's almost like he is... pained, almost. His face is nonchalant, but for some reason his eyes speak volumes. Almost like he relates. For some odd reason, that makes me sad. I feel like he's young to experience the type of hurt I'm experiencing.
My face downcasts and I slowly look away. I gulp, feeling the stinging sensation at the back of my eyes. I think I'll be on my period soon, there's no way I'm this emotional.
I gulp, breathing out a bit of nerves and I rub my arms in self-comfort. "It doesn't get easier. It gets harder."
I tense up partially when I see him, through the corner of my eye, move my bag out of the way before scooting closer towards me. I even move my head back when I feel him wrap his left arm behind me, and with his right, he lightly presses my left knee towards him, so both of my folded legs plant onto his thigh closest to me.
"What are you doing?" My wide eyes look up at his close proximity.
"Don't question it." He sighs softly, basically pulling me closer to him. His blue eyes blink at me. "I'm just going to hold you, that's all."
It's weird. It's foreign, almost. Us being this close even despite us having been close — by force, might I add — before. Now my side is pressed against him, and even if we're both seated on the grass, he is still slightly taller, which now gives me the impression that his torso is quite long, along with his legs. His right hand, he places right on my thigh, which creates illegal tingles against the bare skin. I have to adjust my skirt, of which I do. It's not intrusive, as much as it should be, considering his hand isn't making moves towards forbidden areas, but instead lightly rubs to provide comfort in a sense.
My heart is literally beating like some African beat, and my hands, stiff as they are, are now partially on my lap. I look away, feeling my cheeks burn up because this is something completely different. Fine, my melanin skin covers all of that, but the thought of me blushing at his gesture is embarrassing enough for me to even look at him.
Yet here we are. As quiet as ever, with my heart making the loudest noise, and I'm biting my lip. My tense body slowly but surely relaxes. He further takes me by surprise when he rests his head lightly on the side of my head. This boy's body temperature is quite high, and maybe it's because the sun is trying to burn us at this point, but I find comfort in it. Even the arm behind me; his hand lingers by my side, by my butt actually, but it's not groping or even running. It's just there. I just feel his hand... and that gives me comfort. I've been running away from whatever this boy wants from me, yet here I am.
Here we are. He's comforting me. He doesn't need to, but he wants to. The idea of that, alone, makes me feel better, oddly enough.
It's comforting.
"We don't have to talk about it." He mutters under his breath. "It's obviously still a sensitive topic. We can just sit here and... sit in silence. Silence is nice sometimes."
I'm quite literally tearing up. Literally, tears brim in my eyes and block my vision. This is what I needed? Just to sit with somebody who just wants to provide comfort? That's all?
I sniff, wiping my eyes when the tears slip down my cheeks. My tongue caresses my bottom lip before I roll it in my mouth, clearing my throat a bit.
I take it upon myself to get comfortable, too. I nudge my head a bit so he can move his off of mine, and then I turn my body more into his before leaning closer, resting the side of my head against his shoulder. The top of my head, I can feel the side of his neck, and my big head almost fits too perfectly against the side of his neck.
It's nerve wracking; without verbally saying it, I'm asking for more of his comfort, I'm asking to be closer to him. In his fictional story, he mentions the fact that they rely on physical contact, yet here I am basically basking in it.
His arm behind me lifts from where it first is to my mid section, almost as if caging me against him or pulling me closer, and his right hand is now hooked under my knee.
I gulp, loudly, and my eyes bat a bit. If I look straight, I'm looking at the grass just before his thigh covers the view. If I look directly down, I'm either looking at his forearm or at his crotch, so I avoid looking down at all costs; if I look to my right side, I'm looking at his top covering his chest and stomach. I even take it upon myself to slowly inhale, just to get an idea of what he smells like.
I can't exactly identify it, but it smells almost sweet. A distant kind of sweet. Savoury, in a sense, but there's a hint of sweetness. And wood. Maybe wet wood? But not the bad kind of wet wood; it's the familiar... homey kind.
I don't know. What I do know is I could ideally get comfortable with his scent.
If I pay attention, I think I might just be able to hear his heart. It's pounding loudly as well, maybe a bit too fast, which makes me smile.
"Thank you." I mutter. "Maybe... maybe, sometimes, being alone doesn't help."
"It does." He answers right back with his own mutter. "It helps you realise that you don't need to go through something alone."
"You're kind of wise for somebody your age."
I hear him hum first. Then, his hands tighten as if to never let me go. Then he sighs softly. We're seated in absolute silence between us both. Nature is the only thing we can clearly hear. I'm surprised he is actually skipping his session to be here.
"What about classes?"
"I'll be fine when you're fine."
Wow.
We end it right there. The silence becomes something very comfortable between us, so much so, that one moment, I'm blinking at anything my eyes land on — besides his crotch — and the next, my heavy eyes slowly close, allowing me to be pulled backwards into daydream.
Before I know it, I'm comfortably out like a lightbulb.