"Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope."
Maya Angelou.
"Don't be afraid," the voice mumbles. "I'm not here to scare you. I promise."
I bring my head to my knees, close to tears, trying to find some logic in all the chaos. Out of the corner of my eye, I see dust floating from one end of the room to the other, the glistening cob webs almost hurting my pupils. I feel a hand on my hand, caressing mine with its thumb, doing its best to reassure me. Instinctively, I pull away.
"Don't touch me!" I yell, standing up from the floor. Crossing my arms, I turn my back towards the voice
"I'm s-sorry," the person stutters. "I was just trying to..."
"Stop talking," I interrupt. "Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking!" I scream, pacing up and down the room, the air becoming thicker.
"You should probably stop shouting," the person says.
Turning round, I glare at the dark figure, kissing my teeth, impatiently tapping my feet, disbelieving what I'm hearing.
"Why should I listen to you?" I ask angrily.
The person sighs.
"Well, I can tell from your reaction that this is a secret place, a place that you want no one to know about..."
"Yeah...so?"
"So," the person continues. "If you shout, there is a high chance that someone will hear you and will be forced to come up here."
"What if I want someone to come up here in order to get rid of you?" I growl.
"You don't."
"How do you know that?"
"Because if you wanted someone to come up here, you wouldn't have acted so irrationally when you heard my voice. Meaning, this is your place, isn't it? The place you go when you want to run away from your problems. You don't want anyone to find out about this place because it's the only place where you can truly be alone," the person states, matter of factly.
I raise an eyebrow.
"How do you know that?" I repeat and from the movement of the shoulders, I can tell that the figure shrugged.
"Humans are predictable," the voice answers.
There is a moment of silence. The absence of sound taking over.
"Who are you?" I reiterate my previous question.
Then, the figure steps out of the shadows, revealing a tall, tanned boy with dark hair and green eyes. He's dressed in all black and his lips are a pale-pink. He tugs at the ends of his hair, the worry on his face clear.
"Again, I'm sorry," he apologises.
I observe him, circling him as if he were my prey. Finally, I come to a stop and I stand right in front of him. I look into his eyes and say:
"It's ok, I'm sorry for over reacting."
The boy shakes his head, almost doubting the possibility of this reconciliation ever happening. He stands a bit discomforted under my watchful gaze. However, I don't mind to be under his intense glare, the meaning behind each stare sending a sort of amusement inside of me. I bite my lip to prevent a smile.
"How did you find this place? Did you know I would be here? I don't think I've seen you before, who are you?" I interrogate him, one question after the other.
He puts his hand up in mock surrender.
"Woah, can we like, calm down a sec?"
I huff.
"Fine, but answer my questions," I say.
"Impatient much," the boy mutters.
"Hurry up," I complain.
"Okay, so to answer your first question, I ditched lesson and wanted to find somewhere quiet to stay. In the end, I found this place and decided to seek refuge," he explains.
"What about my second question?"
He smiles.
"I'm guessing your the type of girl that thinks everything revolves around you," he laughs.
"I am not!" I shout.
He puts his finger to his lips.
"Don't shout," he orders softly. "But to answer your second question, no, I didn't know you'd be here because up until now, I didn't even know you existed."
"Now my last question," I say.
"Which is?"
"Who are you?"
He looks at me, properly looks at me, with everything he has.
"My name's Wyatt Hunter," he responds. "What's yours?"
Wyatt.
I like it.
"Valentina Blue-Rose," I retort.
He shakes my hand.
"Nice to meet you, Blue-Rose."
I giggle.
"Nice to meet you," I greet him.
Then, Wyatt stumbles towards the door, turning back to say one more remark.
"See you around."
And with that, he's gone.