SOFIA
I need a break. I've avoided Alec a whole week now. I swear. Every time in the canteen, I didn't look his way so our eyes can't meet. I haven't even gone past the motorbike parking lot in case he's there parking his. I haven't been in the business school building, since that's his major and I was afraid I might bump into him there. I did literally all I could. But I needed a break. So today, on my free period, I go to the one place that helps calm me down. The rooftop terrace.
As the last time I've been here, I ask Darrel to wait in front of the door and he luckily agrees. Which means, I get to be alone. Exactly what I want.
However, the luck isn't on my side lately. And, of course, I don't get to be alone. And, you guessed it, the person who is there is the last person I want to see right now. The person I've been trying to avoid. That's right, Alec Dunn is there, again with his back at the door, leaning on the railing. He's wearing his usual black tux without shirt and he looks perfect again. Even his hair. Which I want to ruffle.
He turns around and tenses as he sees me. He's nervous. I'm shocked. And frozen. And yet, I'm the first one to speak: "I can see you cut your hair. Why?"
I must have sounded dumb. But I need to know.
He swallows hard and answers: "We both know the answer to that question, Foxy."
I open my mouth to say something. Then close it again. And don't know how to answer.
"I fucked up, Foxy," he begins. "I really did. I did a mistake. I thought I deserved you. I could never deserve you. You're perfect. And I am anything but. Sometimes I wonder, how Earth deserved you. And if our whole planet doesn't deserve you, then how am I to stand a chance?"
I swallow hard and can feel a chill go down my spine. He continues: "You said I wouldn't care if you died. I would. And if you die, I die. Even if I would still be living, I would be dead inside. So, what's the point of a body if there's no soul to guide it?"
I shiver harder. He notices and stops talking. However, only for a few seconds. Then, he continues: "I screwed up, Foxy. Coming at you that night was the biggest mistake of my life. I know you could never forgive me for what I did. There is no forgiveness. And I also know that you hate me. You said it enough times. I am going to ask you however not to say it again. Until now I've only had to read it. Hearing and seeing you say that might leave me even more broken than I am. And trust me, Foxy, I am broken. I don't think there's a word to describe how I feel since the day you left."
I swallow hard and want to say something. He beats me to it and says the last thing I expected to hear: "I love you, Foxy. I never thought I was capable of love. Yet, here I am. You gave me feelings I could have never believed possible. You messed with my head. And you can hate me. You can fucking kill me, Foxy, if that's what you want. My heart is and will only ever be yours. I know I screwed up. And I know you might not forgive me soon. Yet, I do plan on winning you back one day. No matter how long it takes. I want you to be mine, Foxy. But until then, you should know I'm yours."
My heart beats faster. I can't feel my legs anymore. I always thought that when someone says, "I love you", that's all they say. Those three words. But not Alec. Alec gave me his world. He was mine. And he said it.
And I want to be his.
"It's going to take time," I answer, not knowing how else to put the thought aside.
His face changes into being sad, yet, after a while, he says: "I know. But I told you. I'm going to wait."
He bends down and takes out a wrapped present. He comes closer, and I instinctively take a step back. I can see his heart breaking in his eyes. He doesn't come closer, just hands me the present, trying to smile. Yet, he's too broken to succeed.
"For you, Foxy. It was your birthday, right? Happy birthday."
I take the present, still not believing the fact he remembered. Then again, he said he loves me. And I also remember his birthday. 1st of January.
"Thank you. You shouldn't have," I respond, trying to be polite.
"I should have. It's the least I could do."
I turn to walk away; however, stop as I realize something. And turn around.
"Alec?" I ask and he didn't even have to look up. He was already staring.
"Yes, Foxy."
"How did you know I would come here? I mean, you had the present ready."
He tenses as he answers: "I didn't. I came here with the present every day for the past week. I wanted to see you. So, I came here on the hope, one day you'd come."
I swallow hard and walk away. It's not until I am inside again and far away from him that I allow myself to breathe.
~
Later, at home, I finally open the present. I've been staring at it for a few minutes now, two hours, and couldn't bring myself to do it. The curiosity won though. So now, I am standing with a pair of scissors in my hands, the present on my desk, ready to see what's inside.
I freeze as I get the first look. It's a painting. Of me. Well, not actually me, but it looks like me. It is a girl holding a bouquet of red roses. You can't see her head, only from her mouth down. Her blonde hair is falling down her shoulders. Her lips have an intense red lipstick on. Her neck is surrounded by pearls. And here comes the reason I thought it was me. They are the pearls I usually have on. The painting ends at the girl's waist, but her body is hidden behind the bouquet she's holding. It is beautiful.
Along with the painting came a letter. I'm afraid of what it might say, I open it however:
Foxy,
First of all, happy birthday. I don't know if you'll ever talk to me again and I'll get to give you this present, I live with the hope that you will.
If your first thought as you saw the painting was 'Is this me?', you should know you're right. It is you.
I know you liked the painting with the kiss, so I wanted to surprise you. I got in contact with the artist and asked him to paint you. Yet, I didn't want one of those common portraits. You're a princess. You must have a gallery filled with them at home. I wanted him to paint you. As you can see, the painting has a few focus points: the hair, the lips, the neck with the pearls, the skin and the bouquet. I'll explain them all for you.
1. Your hair: It looks perfect, Foxy. I love your hair. It doesn't matter if you wear it in a bun or it's messy from wearing a helmet on, your hair always looks perfect.
2. Your lips: I might sound creepy if I would say I want to kiss those lips, but it's the truth. I want to kiss those lips. Your lips. I have probably told you before you're reading this that I love you, yet I don't think I could ever tell you enough. I love you, Foxy. And the red? It's the color of the lipstick the girl has on in your favorite painting. The one we will be recreating one day.
3.Your neck: Your neck is always having pearls on. It's like they're a part of you. But you wear them beautifully. The pearls don't just surround your neck, they hug it.
4. Your skin: It's flawless. It makes me think of how bad I want to kiss you.
5. The bouquet: I don't know if you remember, but roses are the flowers I gave you on our first date. I chose them as a reminder of the happiest time of my life.
I hope you like the painting, Foxy. It's beautiful, but it could never beat the real you. Even in the gallery, having you around is like looking at a work of art. Every grin you make, every frown, every time your mouth twitches, it's a new artwork. The masterpiece comes when you smile.
I love you, Foxy. Happy birthday!
Yours,
Alec
My hands shiver as I finish, and tears roll down my eyes. I've read in books about girls getting love letters. I never thought I'd be one of them. Yet here I am.
Without thinking, I pull out my phone and unblock Alec's number.
ME: Alec
His answer comes back in less than five seconds.
HIM: Yes, Foxy?
I blush as I write the next text.
ME: You still owe me a date.
Even though he's not in the same room with me, I can see the smile on his lips as I read his reply.
HIM: Thank you! Thank you, Foxy.
HIM: When do you want our date to be?
ME: I'm free this Saturday. Does that work for you?
HIM: Any time you want works for me, Foxy.
I blush and text him again:
ME: Great. Then, guess I'll see you on Saturday.
HIM: Can't wait.
I close the phone and even though I have my doubts whether what I did was good, I can feel my heart pounding in my chest saying yes.