HEAVILY UNEDITED.
Sorry for making you guys wait!!😭😭
SHOULD I DO IT?
Summer brings rain, and heat.
But summer also brings lies, and guilt.
Mr. Williams' blue eyes peer into my mahogany honeypots, as if trying to decipher me; trying to unlock the secrets of my soul. As we sit there in his car, the sound of the rain hammering in the background, calming my nerves, my breaths get lighter.
Breaking eye contact, I look out of the window, letting my bottom lip wobble. The way I can use my feelings to convey something else entirely, to create such an obvious parallel he can't even sense — may God forgive my soul.
"I... please don't look at me like that..." I blanche, furrowing my eyebrows, "I knew it, I should have kept it to myself... you're probably thinking of me as this stupid, troubled, weak girl who can't..."
At this point I realize I'm pouring out my real feelings, though cloaked by the big lie I'd just affirmed seconds earlier.
He doesn't need to know.
"Namora, please stop," he begins, his voice soft as he turns the key and brings the car to life.
Finally.
"You're not stupid, nor weak. Yes, you're troubled, but..." He looks at me as he switches gear, his blue eyes sparkling, "it's okay."
"It's okay, not to be okay. It's okay to feel things too much. It's okay to be emotional," he continues, and I find my heart clenching in pain and yearning.
Pain, for the way I'm leading him on, and yearning, for the way he's reacting.
Because how, how can I just let him go when he's finally showing concern? Showing that he somewhat cares? How can I?
"I'm not exactly the best at this, but..." He inhales, "—where's your house, by the way?"
"Turn left and keep going," I say softly, unable to say any more. He has me tongue-tied and I'd die if this moment ceases to exist.
"As I was saying, I'm not the best at this but... you can count on me for anything. If it ever becomes too much..."
He casts me an uncertain glance, and I can't help my heart swelling with happiness.
"...I'm here. I'll always be here— well, until you graduate, that is... I think you should go into therapy, too, it might help—"
I shake my head, "you're enough."
He sighs, "you can't—," hands clenching onto the steering wheel as he shakes his head, "—continue going straight?"
I nod.
"Just know that you can rely on me. And... I won't ask you about your personal problems, because... you don't have to share them. But if something ever happens... I'm here."
He's having a hard time forming words, which is what I expected. But the fact that he's been able to say all that is enough for my heart to hammer wildly in my chest. He's actually making an effort. An effort to be kind to me. He's respecting me. He's respecting my feelings.
And I'm in love.
"Thank you, Mr. Williams," I inhale shakily, hesitating.
But then I do it.
Extending my hand to grasp his which stands on the gear stick, tentatively sliding my fingers through his. Loving the way my brown honeydew softness contrasts against his calloused albino leather.
He inhales sharply at my gesture, his muscles tensing.
His gaze flickering over to the wedding band on his finger, the band which I blatantly ignore as I face him with my puppy eyes.
"...Thank you for being here for me when nobody else was."
And as his blue eyes flicker over to me, probably to assess my sincerity, I shoot him the most troubled smile I can muster.
And it works.
Because I see the hesitant smile in his eyes, the ghost of a smile on his lips, as he gently pushes my hand away.
But the fact that he let my hand stay there for those few seconds; it's got to mean something.
It has to.
"...Where do I turn...?"
"Turn right, then right again when you see the next path..."
Truthfully, I don't want this moment to end. I want to be here, with him, to bask in all the attention he's giving me until my last breath.
I like the way he keeps glancing at me every three seconds to see if I'm okay or on the verge of breaking, I like the way he's treating me like a fragile doll. I like the way his lips thin whenever he sees me shiver or wrap my arms around myself as if to protect myself from something.
I like it, just a little too much.
But do I care that it's wrong? That he's a married man? That he's my teacher? That I shouldn't be feeling this way?
At one point, I did. But now, as I look at him while he stares through the window, all I can feel is contentment. The guilt has already chipped away at me and now only a hollow outline is left of it.
Soon enough, I know that hollow outline will go out too.
I know the star of my innocence will fade.
But do I care?
No.
I'd give anything, give everything to just have him hold me in his arms as he whispers sweet nothings into my ear. I would give my purse, my person, my extremest means, just to have a taste of those soft, inviting rosy lips.
I didn't realise I had been staring at his lips so boldly until he clears his throat.
Like a deer caught in headlights, I look up into his eyes, unable to hide my guilty expression.
He opens his mouth, as if to say something, but then shakes his head, "I was saying, should I turn left or right?"
"Turn right, it's the third house on the block."
I lean back in my seat, closing my eyes, attempting to calm my nerves.
It's way too obvious that I like him.
I think he already knows.
But honestly, I can't bring myself to care. If things are to happen, I think he should have a whiff of my intentions.
Dread begins to seep in when I realize that my destination is getting closer.
Gulping, I look out the window, watching the water droplets trickle downwards, tracing a line with my hand, trying to ignore the familiar surroundings.
Feeling a bit self-conscious, I turn to see Mr. Williams looking at me with a mysterious puzzlement in his eyes. It isn't a look of adoration, but more a fatherly curiosity. As if he wants to solve the puzzle of my being here. My entity. My purpose.
And though I expected something else, I did realise this was progress, compared to the emotionless looks I kept receiving from him in the past.
Almost immediately after locking eyes with me, he looks away, shaking his head.
I feel at a loss, but I don't say anything. I dare not.
"We've arrived..." He drawls out, looking up at the simple house I live in.
I look at it too, and try to see things through his eyes.
It's small, with paint being chipped off, but just enough to accommodate my family.
Well, ¾ of it.
"Thank you so much for the ride, Mr. Williams..." I say, looking overhead at the rainy clouds which have begun to dissipate.
"...I'll see you tomorrow," I add, sending him a warm smile.
He remains unsmiling.
Should I do it?
I glance at his unsuspecting face, then at his posture, but then I hesitate.
I've already tried enough today, I think I should give him a rest.
"...Bye." I murmur shyly, not looking at him as I open the door and rush towards my house. The rain slithers down on me but it's dulce; as if it is softly caressing me. I feel sonder.
When I'm on the porch safely, I turn around to watch him drive away.
Waving my hands shyly with a big smile on my face, knowing he can see me through the rear view mirror.
And I hope it makes him smile.