| CHAPTER - XVII |
PLAYING PRETEND, NOT ALL THAT BAD
Francesco gets to enjoy brightness today. His date has managed to drag him into a party full of people he does not really know. And if he is being brutally honest, he does not know Suede either.
She is an acquaintance who has managed to grasp his interest.
Francesco and Suede walk into the venue and some people spot Suede and immediately come to greet her.
Francesco panics, his brain trying to formulate hypothetical conversations they all could possible have.
And amidst all his panicking, in Suede's twisted mind, she thinks its fine if she links her arms with his and pulls him close to her. When Francesco looks at her, she has bright but fake grin on her face. She wraps both her arms around his one and begins to greet her friends.
By the way she is greeting them, Francesco isn't so sure if they are friends.
"Wie geht es dir?" a male friend asks, giving Suede a hug. (How are you?)
"Ziemlich gut, danke," Suede fluently replies. (I'm rather well.)
Francesco would be lying if he is to say that he is not mesmerised.
"Und dir?" Suede asks, giving a cheek kiss to her other friends. (And you?)
"Nicht schlect," the man replies. (Not bad.)
"Sind Sie ihr Freund?" one of the woman ask once all of them notice Francesco standing there. (Are you her friend?)
He can't run in any way. Suede has him in a hold.
Francesco grows confused, not understanding a word they have said.
Before he can say anything, Suede was a hand, interrupting with a stammering voice. "Nein, er ist mein Freund." (No, he's my boyfriend.)
Her friends grow confused. "Fester Freund?" (Boyfriend?)
Suede nods her head rapidly, "Ja." (Yeah.)
Francesco looks back and forth and then with a nervous laugh, he agrees, "Whatever she said."
Her friends chuckle, nodding as if in approval of Francesco . . Except, he has no idea what the approval is for.
"Uhm, Er nicht Deutsch sprechen," Suede explains. (Uhm, he does't speak German.)
"Want to put me out of misery some time soon?" Francesco whispers, only meaning for Suede to hear them but it does not work so.
They laugh again and the man talking earlier holds a hand out for Francesco to shake. Francesco kindly shakes it back, understanding that his grip needs to be a little firm.
"Nice to meet you. ." one of the women trail off, shaking his hand.
"Francesco," Francesco answers, nodding his head at her.
The woman smiles, nodding. The brunette next to her comments, "Usually, Suede has a thing for men a little older than her. . two years or so. ."
Francesco looks at her. Thing? He quickly remembers her saying that she needs him to be his date. It seems as though Suede has taken their relationship further in their lies.
Francesco puts a hand over his heart, "Actually, I'm twenty."
"Holy shit, Suede!" her friend exclaims. "He's younger! Suede. . are you okay?"
Suede swats her hand way that had come to reach her forehead, "Stop it!"
"Okay," her friends mutters, trying to stifle a laugh.
"How long have you kept up with her stubbornness?" another person asks.
Suede quickly interrupts, "Okay! About time we leave." With that, she pulls Francesco away.
They keep to themselves after that. When they're by the high tables, Francesco asks, "Really? Into older men?"
"Teasing, that's exactly why," Suede points at him. "Easier to be with mature men, sweetie."
"But older men aren't as much fun, darling," Francesco retorts, leaning his elbow on the table and moving closer to her.
Suede rolls her eyes, not really caring for what he is saying.
"Come on, Suede," Francesco chuckles. "Admit it. You find me interesting."
Suede huffs. "Quit it or we go back, I swear."
"Why would I mind going back?" Francesco shrugs. "It's you who wants me, a very interesting person in your opinion, to be your date."
Suede glares at him. Francesco only laughs. "You gotta lighten up." Suede rolls her eyes and picks up a peanut off the snacking platter in the middle of the high-table.
"So, what am I meant to do?" Francesco asks, moving closer to her.
Suede smirks as her palm presses flat against his chest and she moves him away from her. "You've impressed my friends, which is Obstacle number one down. Now, you have Obstacle number two: my parents."
"Your parents?" Francesco whispers, shocked. The adrenaline in his blood is no longer one of excitement but of fear and dread.
"Oh, not so snarky now, are we?" Suede chuckles, her lips forming a mocking 'O.' She looks at his reaction of sheer panic and her smirk widens.
"Why the fuck am I meeting your parents?" Francesco hisses, coming closer to her and ignoring the daggers she sends his way.
Suedes waves her hand downwards, looking over his shoulder. "Shh, here they come."
"Schatzi, wie geht's?" a man loudly asks, the voice getting closer. (Little treasure, how are you?)
Francesco stiffens. Swiftly, he composes himself and mouths You owe me. Suede doesn't hesitate to wink at him.
He turns around and faces a rather dominating looking man. He's tall, with a thick brown beard, with splatters of white hair. His eyes are narrow and green and jaw chiseled. For a father, he is in good shape.
Francesco also sees the woman who's arm is tucked in his. Suede's mother, he presumes. She matched Suede's father rather well. With her thick blonde hair and dark eyes, her posture only adds to her beauty.
"Hallo, Papa," Suede greets from behind Francesco. She moves to wrap an arm around his torso and so that some of her side if pressed against him. "Alles klaar. Und sie?" (All's good. And you?) Suede pushes him with her arm to step away from the table and towards her parents. She stpes out and hugs her father, her arm still around him. It's as if she was trying to make a bold statement.
"Es geht mir se gut," her father replies, his voice gruff. (I'm rather well.)
"Hi, Mama," Suede sweetly greets, hugging her mother as well.
"Hello, mein Schatz," her mother greets.
When Suede pulls away, she returns to Francesco's side.
Francesco is distracted because her arm feels warm against his. The way her fingers press into him is soft and he wants to fall asleep at her touch.
"And who is this?" her father brightly asks, clapping a hand onto Francesco's shoulder.
Francesco jerks, realising that all he needs is his fake girlfriend's father to get his attention.
He isn't quite sure why he's scared. It's not like him and Suede are actually dating.
Francesco sticks out a hand for her father to shake, "Francesco, sir."
Her father's grin brightens up and Francesco stops himself from sighing in relief. "Alaric Eisenberg-Schneider," her father replies, grasping his hand.
Francesco falters because her father's grip is rather strong but in the good sense.
Francesco turns to her mother and offers his hand, "Francesco, m'am."
Her mother waves a hand and comes to give him a kiss cheek. When she pulls away she says, "Selina."
"Pleasure to meet you," Francesco nods at both of them.
Before they can fall into an unsettling silence, Mrs Eisenberg-Shneider asks, "How did you two meet?"
"Pardon us for the intrusion, but ons Schatzi doesn't tell us anything," her father jokes but it is the truth because Francesco turns to look at Suede who only rolls her eyes.
"No problem," Francesco chuckles. "We met on the Subway actually, a w –"
"While ago," Suede fills in, smiling widely to cover up the lies they are about to tell. "
Francesco gulps, nodding. He smiles, continuing, "So the subway. . we were –"
"His ticket wouldn't work so –"
"Naturally –" Francesco adds, breathing out.
"– I offered to punch for him," Suede hesitates to explain. Francesco turns to look at Suede and Suede looks at him.
With a tilt of his head, Francesco lets Suede know That would have been a more normal way to meet.
"How long have you been together?"
"3 months," Suede answers, without skipping a beat. She holds Francesco closer to her, who only laughs.
"That's a long time, darlings," Mrs Eisenberg-Schneider comments, a soft smile on his face.
"It's been a while since she has brought anyone home, so excuse us," her father explains, winking at Francesco.
Francesco chuckles. Suede exclaims, "Papa!"
"Last time was, what? Three years ago?" her mothers inserts.
"Mama!" Suede almost yells.
"Believe me, I insisted on meeting you guys, but Suede was a little hesitant," Francesco lies easily, and his father meets him for a brief handshake are they all chuckle.
Francesco almost cries out because Suede pinched him really hard.
"And that's why, we would be delighted to have you over for dinner next week," Suede's mother invites, resting a hand on Francesco's arm.
Francesco's eyebrows rise in shock but a nervous smile stands proudly on his face. "I don't think he can do next week, Mama," Suede nods, looking at Francesco. "He. . has school."
"Oh, what university do you go to?" Mr Eisenberg-Schneider asks.
"Columbia, sir."
"And what do you study?" asks Mrs Eisenberg-Schneider.
"Finance – First year, m'am," Francesco curtly replies.
"Suede is in her second year," her mother thinks aloud, meeting her husband's eyes for a brief glance. When she turns to Francesco, she is beaming. "Sweetie, you're a year younger than Suede?"
"Malia already established that, so, please, can we move on from that?" Suede practically pleads, her clutch on Francesco tightening.
"Okay. . but Columbia is on holiday, so darling, I'm sure we can meet sometime this month, if not next week," her mother says.
"Of course," Francesco nods.
"Okay, Mama," Suede interjects, "We're going to head over to the party so please enjoy your classical music."
"Lovely meeting you, m'am," Francesco brightly bids, accepting the hug her mum gives him. "You too, sir," Francesco says, shaking her father's hand again.
"Tschüs," Suede calls, wiggling her fingers to say goodbye as they walk away. (Bye.)
"Machs gut," her mother calls after them. (Take care.)
Even when they're far away, Suede doesn't let go of him and Francesco quickly understands that it's because she needs to keep up their appearance as a couple who have been together for three months.
Their next stop is a hall within the venue.
Lights are flashing everywhere and people around their age are dancing to some music and drinks are being passed around, everywhere.
"We like to have our mini versions of Volksfest to some extent," Suede explains.
She turns to look at Francesco and drops her hand to intertwine it with his.
Her hand is soft like a fur in his and he wants to hold on and pull her close. As she guides him across to the centre, he is captivated by her fragrance.
When they reach the middle, Suede turns to him and smiles. "Now, you party."
"As your boyfriend or myself?" Francesco asks, tilting his head up with a smile.
Suede looks at him with a look of disbelief.
"Wow, Suede, you gotta learn to let lose," Francesco says.
"I know how to be lose," Suede inists.
Francesco shakes his head, coming closer to her. He slips a hand through hers and holds them up. They're both entranced by this, watching every move. Francesco takes her other hand in his as well. With a subtle glide, he's closer.
Francesco towers her by just a bit and she looks up at him, her golden strands falling back and exposing her face for all the gold its worth. Her lips are parted and the dark lipstick on her lips invites Francesco but he holds back. Her eyes bore into his and she gives him a look as if to ask What're you doing?
Francesco shakes his head lightly, smiling wider. They begin to move to the beat, keeping a steady pace.
Their proximity makes Francesco weak at his knees and he can feel her every breath. He keeps her close even when she attempts to pull away. Her body moves swiftly with his and Francesco can't believe he called her uptight.
"This lose enough for you?" Suede whispers, her voice hoarse.
Francesco melts under the sultry touch laced in her voice. His eyes flutter shut briefly as her body presses up against his as she says those words. Her touch is consuming – it's able to set him right off track and suck up all his thoughts as if her touch is a black hole.
When Francesco looks back at her, he really wishes this becomes something more.
-
In Cordelia's room, Romeo takes a seat on the bed. He adjusts the guitar on his lap and sets his fingers on a few strings. He looks out the big window right beside her window which reflected the fading lilac sky on his face. Romeo strums his guitar to a soothing, familiar tune.
Cordelia is standing by her vanity, taking of her heels and earnings and placing them down. She looks at Romeo from the window and sees the bag of his head. His posture lets her know that he is mesmerised by the lights outside. Her window is very big and allows them to look out at New York City's skyline.
Romeo loves her room. He loves always having a part of the city visible to him, wherever he goes.
As he strums his guitar, Cordelia walks over and sits in front of him, her legs dangling off the bed whilst his where crossed over each other on the bed. She presses her legs together in the dress she is still wearing. "Want me to sing something for you?" Cordelia asks.
Romeo looks at her, turning his gaze away from the window. Nodding, he hands her his guitar. "Don't laugh at me, Rodrigues."
Romeo chuckles, shaking his head. "I promise."
Cordelia smiles and begins to play chords to Just You and I.
Romeo's heart begins to race as he knows all the meanings the song holds. He looks at Cordelia, mouth parted and a look of uncertainty on her face. She isn't looking at him. She is too focused on the chords she is playing.
"Let's get drunk. I'll pour my heart out through my mouth," Cordelia sings. Her voice is soft and harmonious. She is able to take the song and make it her own without messing anything up.
She looks at him, letting her green eyes capture his. She sings to him and he doesn't know if his heart can take anymore.
No one has ever said, looked or sang to him with such passion.
Romeo listens to every word she sings and he imagines a world where everything is certain and alright.
"'Cause my darling, you and I could take over the world
And one step at a time, just you and I
'Cause you're the only one, who brings light just like the sun
One step at a time, just you and I."
What he isn't certain about is him and Cordelia. She's there. Whether she stands beside him or not is the only flaw left in his perfect world.
When her fingers begin to end the song, Romeo gets on his knees and leans over her. When she's done, he grabs her chin, lifts it up to let her eyes meet up. Simultaneously, he moves the guitar away from her and brings his lips down to his.
Cordelia giggles against his lips, "Romeo."
"You looked so hot," Romeo hotly whispers, pushing his finger between their lips to trace hers. Cordelia pants, her hands moving to his belt. "No, no, no," Romeo breathes, moving her hands away from her pants.
Cordelia doesn't complain. Instead, she moves her hands to his hair to play with his wavy hair. Gripping him, Cordelia pulls Romeo over her as she lays back.
"Hot was not what I was going for, I need to confess," Cordelia whispers to him.
"Gracefully hot," Romeo whispers, playing with her v-neck. He hoists her leg up and around him. "How's that?"
"You're a dork, Romeo," Cordelia comments, when Romeo falls beside her.
Romeo curls his arms around hers and Cordelia moves close to him so that their lips are only inches away. She breathes, relaxing into his arms.
Romeo looks at her, his eyes darkening. Licking his lips, he answers, "A dork you're sleeping with."
Cordelia groans and with a chuckle announces, "There, you've ruined it!"
"I wasn't aware we were having a moment," Romeo mutters cheekily. He leans in and presses a delicate kiss to her lips.
Just as Cordelia's tongue sweeps over his lips, Romeo pulls away, taking a deep breath. "I've never seen you vulnerable like I have seen you today," Romeo reveals.
Cordelia looks at him. Her eyes show a sense of fright but her composure doesn't support her case. She pushes back the curl that has fallen down over his forehead but it falls back. She repeats her process but the curl falls back again.
"Even your hair is hopeless," Cordelia whispers, moving impossibly closer to him. Their lips are an inch away and their noses are pressed against each other.
"You're hopeless, so I guess I'm better," Romeo comments, not really willing to put up a fight with her. He pushes back her platinum blonde hair to get a better look at her face. She is glowing under the dimming light. Her eyes are enunciated with the sharp make-up she has on them.
Romeo gives her a brief kiss. He pulls away and lays his head back on the pillow.
"Why didn't you go home with Reah?" Cordelia whispers, moving to close the distance between their lips.
"Didn't you know?" Romeo mutters against her lips. Cordelia doesn't let him finish, biting onto his lower lips and sucking on it. Her tongue slips into his mouth and Romeo groans, refraining himself from unzipping her. He pulls away and Cordelia almost whines. She moves to kiss him again but Romeo's quicker. He bites onto her shoulder lightly before pressing his lips against his. "You and I are exclusive."
"Romeo," Cordelia whines, pulling away and rolling her eyes. She looks at him that tells him to be serious.
Romeo sighs, knowing she is not going to let this go. "I didn't have a chance to think about someone I wanted to go with. . " It's not that he did not want to go with Reah. But he didn't really get a chance to think about who he might want to go with.
Nevertheless, why is Cordelia taking such interest in his choices. It's quite surprsing. It shouldn't matter.
When Romeo opens his mouth, Cordelia puts her mouth against his, effectively shutting him up. "I'm sleepy."
Romeo nods and Cordelia gets off the bed. She takes out one of the sweatpants he has forgotten here after coming from their gym sessions and Romeo's heart stutters.
She wants him to stay here.
She wants him to spend the night.
Romeo gets up, sitting at the edge of the bed and waiting for her to pass it to him.
She takes her clothes out as well . . one of his t-shirts. When she comes to him, Romeo takes the liberty to unzip her before getting up as well. They're chest to chest and Romeo begins to slip out from his clothes.
Cordelia keeps her eyes locked with Romeo's. Nothing has ever felt so intimate.
Not their countless make-out sessions. Not all the sex they have ever had. Simply looking at each other becomes their undoing.
Cordelia kisses him a final time before taking her dress off. Romeo helps her with her bra and slips her panties off her. When he does, he makes sure to press kisses against the inside of her thighs and down his legs. When he gets to her ankles, he lifts the leg up and presses a kiss right above it.
When he comes up, Cordelia sets a hand on his shoulder and the other on his cheek and meets him halfway for an expected kiss.
Their lips are butter against each other, moving in swift strokes and deep licks. Cordelia fists his hair and Romeo angles their heads to kiss her deeply. She gasps through the kiss, pushing his head forward as their lips crush against each other.
Romeo's hands move everywhere. They momentarily push her t-shirt up, then dropping it and then moves over her curves and back up to her face to grab her and guide her.
Romeo moves his hands down to her thighs and hoists her up, making her legs wrap around her. "Shower," Cordelia groans out, pulling away to trace Romeo's swollen lips before kissing him again.
"No," Romeo whispers, turning around and pressing her against the mattress. Cordelia whimpers, trying to get his pants off him but Romeo stops her. "Not today," Romeo whispers against her lips again.
Romeo falls down beside her, once more. Lifting a hand, he strokes her cheeks then moves to her hair, separating each strand from the other. Cordelia relaxes, never having felt such comfort ever before.
Cordelia holds him – she doesn't dig her nails into his shoulders and biceps as she would any other day – no. She holds him.
And she holds him like this is the last chance she will ever get. She holds him like the world is about to end.