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The ground gives in, my heels chase after me but the strength in my legs is long depleted.
„Be so kind and carry me, would you?" I whisper into Kaden's ear as I tilt my head up and throw my arms around him.
"I prayed that you would give me the honor."
"Oh, you sound so gentleman-like. Be careful, people could recognize your true nature and find you nice. We wouldn't want that, would we?" A teasing smile pulls on my lips as I look up at him through what already feels like matted lashes.
He steps closer to me with tender movements as he removes my wrists from his neck. In a swift move, he slides his arms around my thighs and waist and picks me up.
"Don't you want me to be polite to you? I can be kind. I can be gentle, don't you want that?" He asks, speaking with confidence but at the same time nibbling on his lower lip nervously and looking down at me as I lay in his arms.
"Mhmm, not sure." I pretend to think about his rhetorical question.
"Do you mean it? Or are you just trying to get into your pants?"
„My sweet girl, you know I advise everyone not to speak too highly of themselves. I would never want to come across as someone others would call cocky. However, I must admit... lies are nothing I need to get between those gorgeous legs of yours, don't you think?" He uses the Londoner accent he told me he learned in boarding school.
I lean back in his arms, a snort that turns into a cough, leaving my mouth. However, despite the chaos the last hours were, I still try to watch him.
Through my blurry sight, I make out this strong jaw, covered with traces of blood. Appearing as if he was the canvas and someone sprayed their entire pain onto his perfection.
Because of the flashlight. I am tightly gripping in my hand to brighten the path, those sparks reflect as lightly as the fiery veins busted open in his eyes.
In my chest, I can feel the burning ache, my skin remembers how sharp liquid ran down my throat, as if every cell knows how to replicate themselves, as if the trees know, at their deepest roots, that photosynthesis is the only way to live.
I stare at him, when he takes step after step, never letting me slide down from his arm, not even an inch. Instead, he presses me into his warm body. In my drunken mind, my sight is blinded by christals. I wonder if they are my dried-up tears or if the pain I saw in his eyes before our kiss, before they lit up wasn't just made up by my vivid imagination.
I reach the hand that was flushed against his torso out to brush my index finger over his neck, the soft skin showing goosebumps as soon as I brush over it.
I shiver. Velvet under my fingertips.
"I will figure you out. I will study you until I know what you think when you look at me. I will read your thoughts and know when you are kind and when you are telling lies."
"I must admit, you had some valid points before but I am not sure if it's possible to read someone as precisely as you describe it"
"Let me surprise you, Kadene Graham Harrison." I cuddle against his chest, using the liquor to overshadow my deep desire to feel this closeness sober.
Homely, is that a word? If it is, your warmth is the closest I have ever felt. Drunk thoughts.
But this is just alcohol talking, and tomorrow I will be embarrassed by those thoughts. I use it as an excuse because thinking about him in this way... about someone who would never really love me, someone my family wouldn't approve of. It would be a disgrace to let this happen. He just wants to play, just play. I'm not sure if I've yet exhausted my sense of fun.
"And you are not scared I'll figure you out? Maybe I can get behind this façade. Sherlock Holmes is one of my favorites. It will help me look into this pretty head of yours, don't you think?" Kaden keeps the conversation going.
"Arthur Conan Doyle was an impressively smart man but I am more complex than those crimes. I am locked up behind a thousand doors with an infinite amount of locks. Impossible, detective." I joke around, swallowing down another wave of bile rising in my throat, causing my chest to constrict. In an act of instinct, I tightly press my hands against the burning sensation as if the pain would magically disappear.
At the same time, Kaden stops and a worried expression shadows his features.
"Are you OK? I can call my driver. He can't be far away. A doctor would be here in 10 minutes. Do you need an ambulance?" He rambles off as I don't answer the first second.
"You are so sweet. This is nice but it's just the alcohol and the pills...
"Ally."
"Kaden." I try to distract him with an innocent smile. I try not to laugh at this situation. I am here, in his arms even though he just almost beat someone to death and my brother threatened to kill him; I am in his arms.
"You are drunk now, and even tomorrow you won't want me to talk about it, but I will look after you! And if my concern grows, I will help you get out of this hole. Whenever you are ready I will stand behind you."
"Why?" I frown at him.
His mouth opens to say something but closes as he looks at the sky. His jaw clenches and he shakes his head before looking back at me.
He brushes his thumb over my cheek in a caring gesture.
"You deserve to be saved. From the people around you. From me. And from your demons hidden there. And I promised you the highest level of respect. This is me showing you respect."
"I hope you will think this way when you are sober. When you remember what my brother said."
"I hope so too. Yeah, I hope so too."
There is a moment between us, where the wind is our communication method. Our form of being silent and telling each other those deeply rooted thoughts. He starts to walk again, his head directed forward, focusing on where his feet will land next.
"You can always give me money. You know? Instead of respect." I whisper, letting my blurred gaze wander around.
"Aleandra, what are you trying to tell me?" A teasing tone in his raspy voice.
"Nothing ... nothing. Just.."
„Yes?" The smirk clearly audible.
I don't reply, letting my cheeky grin from another world, the universe where I am floating with him right now, tell him everything he needs to know.
"Wouldn't this be boring? Many men can throw money at you and some would gladly be in my position right now. Doesn't it matter more what I do for you with my resources?" He asks, his tone genuine and as he looks back at me I know he expects my real answer.
"Definitely but I was also at the same party as you are and I know what others would think about us spending time with each other. I would be the gold-digging whore, so why not ask politely for a few bucks?" I shrug as if I hadn't brought up a depressing topic.
"Ok, listen to me. I don't know what this person at the party said but believe me they are insecure because they aren't where they want to be. They are scared that women, whom they could never have, would take money they didn't earn and take it away from them. I know this was a joke... more or less but I wouldn't have a problem giving you something."
"You wouldn't feel like I was a golddigger who uses you?"
"Nope, and even if. Use me, baby. You shouldn't have to dig for gold. I will throw it at you. Women shouldn't feel ashamed of getting money gifted. Rich men know what they are in for and want to make a beautiful woman happy. What's wrong with that? It is just like buying flowers only that the person has enough money to gild them.
I laughed at his comparison at first but then I just look up at the sky, thinking about his words.
The next thought my brain would also recall the next day comes to mind hours later as Emmabell and I stumble into our flat. It is already in the morning, and the sun rising above New York, my chosen love. My dirty socks reek and I fall back on my sore butt as I remove my entire clothing. I just force myself to take off my makeup with some oil before falling back into my warm bedding.
My eyes open the next morning, the soreness of my throat is making me feel as close to death as if a bullet is peering into my skull. A large glass of water is found next to my bed.
I groan at the light hitting my face but my thirst makes me sit up. The next burst of energy comes towards me when my jaw falls to the floor. My sore eyes see the lilies placed on a table, I have never seen before, at the end of my bed. I blink a few times to make sure it is real but they are still there. On all fours I crawl towards them, reaching my goal and taking out the delicate handwritten note lying between the blossoms.
Dear Ally,
In my mother's words: "Kaden, you are inebriated". I can barely write this note but here is a little something for you. Don't let those fools tell you, you cannot take from me when I gladly give. It's an honor. Lilies are a sign of life, so have a good day with my credit card and live a little. Breakfast is ready when you are. Take the pill for your headaches, it goes well with your medication, I double-checked with the best doctors I could come up with at 4 in the morning. I am looking forward to seeing you and the kids, today.
PS. I got the key from Emmabell
Yours sincerely,
Kaden
I gasp as I finish off the note and let my hands fall onto the bed. Speechless.
What a drunken mess, we are.