I'm definitely fucking him with my eyes.
We are still at the local cafe, still talking, and outside it's still raining. I feel bad for whoever was outside experiencing the anger of Zeus that woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Thunders and loud roars like thousands of lions are filling the storm, while me and this guy were in this really cozy, warm café, drinking our coffee and living our best life.
"So what do you do in life? " He suddenly asks, and thanks to him, I choke on my drink, coughing and trying to grasp for air. Good question. I wipe off my chin a few drops of coffee and return to face him, his eyes moving from the spilled coffee to me.
"I'm an accountant." I try to convince myself more than to actually convince him, and as I empty the towel dispenser to clean all I've spilled on my shirt, he laughs under his breath. I don't know which god or goddess sent me this guy randomly since my trusted karma can not be, for obvious reasons, but I thank them from the bottom of my heart. Still, suspicion in me rises.
Before he can ask me anything further, my purse vibrates; someone is calling me. I eventually reach my phone after a bunch of recipes and empty boxes of gum, seeing the name Blaise show on the screen. Before I can answer, I see six lost calls by his sister, which starts to worry me since she hates when I don't answer her calls after two exact rings. Please don't be mad.
"Where the hell is your ass at? My sister's been calling you to the point that I think she ended her credit." I could hear the voice of Nisha in the background, mumbling curses most likely directed at me, and the unbearable sound of her heels made my nerves itch.
"I'm sorry, I'm at the local cafe behind the corner of the supermarket; It's raining cats and dogs here, I went in without a second thought. Are you guys ok?" I feel him breathing heavily through the phone, making my nails dance on the counter near one of the recipes.
"If I said yes, I would be lying; we're back from a meeting; I'm going to mention it when I see your face finally at home; I'm going to help this sister of mine calm down since she's walking in circles around me. Gosh, I might throw up," and before I could say anything else, he ended the call.
"Everything ok?" Gabriele asks me, looking like he heard every single word. His black hair falls on his face, and as he passes a hand through it, he never breaks our eye contact.
"I think so; my friends were just worried about me; I never go missing without saying a word." He nods and returns his attention to his phone, probably texting someone.
We remain in silence for a bit, but fortunately it isn't as awkward as I expected at first; he's on his phone and I'm just scrolling on Pinterest. Suddenly I feel my eyes tired, my head starting to spin, and my eyelids pulsing, making the pain fade and come again. The nausea starts to kick in, and I start seeing black spots.
I try to shake it off, thinking it's just anemia, but it only seems to worsen.
I fall back, but a pair of hands catch my back from falling.
"The rain is calmer; would you mind if I walk you home?" He asks, and without thinking twice, I nod. We pay, and as we pass the door, he puts his jacket on my head, keeping his hands tight on my shoulders, preventing me from falling to the ground. I've never had these symptoms before, not even on my worst periods.
At first sight, he frightened me. His neck tattoo and black hair made him look like he wasn't your typical boy next door, but something made me change my mind.
I come to a stop three houses behind ours, and as I begin to remove the soaked jacket off my head, he slowly replaces it. When I raise my eyes to glance at him, he smiles and looks me in the eyes. "Keep it; take it as an apology for spilling your groceries all around the sidewalk." I manage to giggle without choking because of the cold air.
"I'm not sure; didn't this cost a lot? It looks like it's worth more than my payoff." I try again to slide it off my head, but the same hand catches it with a quick motion, putting it back this time less gracefully.
"Not really, and don't worry, I don't use it that much; take it." rich people.
Grey clouds and the sunset made the sky a darker shade of purple, and his face was lit for a few seconds by a huge thunder, striking the sky in two. "Well then, see you around," I say, waving my hand as I back off slowly in the direction of my house.
"Hoping for it " and from there we split up directions, and I start to walk straight again, or at least try. Rain still pours fast and hard, letting me feel like it could cut holes in me, and my heart still pounds from the thunder. Killing time with that guy left me almost killing myself from the excessive dose of caffeine, which adds to the terrible headache that's currently making my head feel like it's made of jello. I made him take me to a random house too so that he wouldn't really see where I live. My sixth sense might be excessive, but never say never.
The main door opens before I could lay my fingers on the handle, and by that time, a firm hand grabs my arm and throws me into the house. The person in question was Nisha, with her long claws digging in my skin, and on the couch there's a scared Blaise with a bag of popcorn, which starts to back off as he notices the situation.
Her bare face was knotted in a frown, trying to frighten me, which actually works. She's in a night white robe, but her fit is the last thing that could interest me at the moment. I can sense the tension in the air as she stood there, her arms crossed over her chest. It is clear that she has something important to say, and I braced myself for whatever was coming next.
"Maverine Amaya Bellaux, where were you? I was waiting for you with the groceries the whole time, and you just decided to not show up?" So she wasn't actually mad that i could've been kidnapped, those goddamn apples were the real deal.
"I'm sorry, the storm wasn't in my plan either. I told you I just stayed at a cafe with a guy until we could finally walk in those streets without getting struck by lightning." I started seeing Nisha double by the time I was finishing my sentence completely, and to prevent me from passing out, I lean on the wall next to me.
"You could've called and rewound that sentence; what human with a dick were you talking to instead of calling me?" and when I was finally able to reply, Blaise appeared again with a grin on his face, spawning right behind his sister's shoulder. I was taken aback by Blaise's sudden appearance, but I can't help but feel relieved that he's there to diffuse the tension.
"Are you guys talking about di-?" But before he can end his sentence, his older sister slapped his mouth.
"Can you shut up for God's sake? I'm having a serious moment with her right now." he glares at her and licks her fingers, which she retreated and cleaned on me. Rude
"Is he at least hot enough to make my sister's six new white hairs worthy? What's his name?" He folds himself on the sofa as he curiously watches me sigh.
"His name was Gabriele, but that's not important at the moment, and look, I'm sorry for being late. Please give me something for my headache because I'm starting to see four people in this room instead of two." I put my head in my hands, wanting to rip my brain out and give it a Brazilian massage.
"I couldn't imagine another Blaise; come here," and from there, Nisha takes me before I can pass out, laying me on the couch next to her brother. He softens and lets out a sigh, looking at God knows what on the carpet. Nisha looks at her brother and says, "You need to stop drinking, Blaise. It's not good for you." Blaise nods in agreement and takes a deep breath before sitting up on the sofa.
"Gabriele, ugh, I bet he's hot," Blaise whispers at himself.
~
It's currently 3 a.m., my balcony is currently my new favorite place, and while a cigarette rests between my lips, I observe the moon, who's beautifully resting right in front of me, illuminating the tips of the tall trees ahead. I close my eyes, feeling the wind passing by on my face, making the long strands of hair fall delicately on it. I barely kiss the sun, but the sickness makes me look like a fucking walking corpse. I wrap myself into that dude's jacket like a blanket, still feeling his perfume on it.
What would have happened if that day had never happened? If those guys hadn't shown up at all, would I've had a birthday party like normal kids?
I have no idea what that means, but sincerely, I would sell my soul to know. My pretty mom, her sweet voice, that mole resting under her nose, and those black locks of hair that she always kept in those big clips with two strands in the front always curled up like two spirals.Ah, reminiscing about the good old days when life wasn't a bad joke. How nostalgic.
She is always here in the same pose and with the same smile, but words never emerge from the picture that is hidden underneath my clear case. I repeat: That is how pictures work. I curse Harry Potter for introducing me to those talking paintings; I used to talk with them and say things like, "I know you're just faking it; I saw you move."
Or even crying, thinking I was a bad child, making it the reason why she would not talk to me.
Tears tingle my eyes, but my expression is the same. No sound is heard, just the eventual exhales of gray smoke dissolving as soon as it makes contact with the air. This whole situation is stressful; it's like death is behind the door, waiting for me with open arms, or worse, waiting for the people I care about again. Life is like a game of Russian roulette, except the bullets are made of anxiety and disappointment. And just when you think you've dodged them all, bam - and then a whole new round begins.
The only thing I really crave are those guys heads. Hang them like little victory trophies and make their death day a family holiday. Hate is not enough of a strong word, but there's no stronger word for describing the way I feel for them. I throw the rest of the cigarette in the ashtray, rest my head on the armchair, and gently close my eyes shut, falling into the embrace of Morpheus as the world goes silent.
Pour toi, vie de merde.