LUIS
Arched brows.
High cheekbones.
Slender jaw....
I had the pleasure of studying English Literature abroad and despite being equipped mentally with numerous words to describe beauty, I always found myself tongue-tied anytime I saw her. The words wound up a jumbled mess in my head when hidden away in the secrecy of my thoughts of her.
She had a fiery spirit that intrigued me exceeding all I thought I knew about her. And deep down I wish I had returned a lot sooner like what Rita suggested to apologize. .
Many things have happened in my life; I had skeletons that oftentimes howled in my closet to remind me they weren't dead. However, for as long as I could- I'll push them down and ignore it all. But when an unexpected message surfaced, I grew fearful. It was bad enough Tiana hadn't been fond of me because of what happened to her brother, but if she knew. . . Even as I stood in the space of her living-room watching her in a peaceful slumber, I didn't have it in me to finish that sentence. I detested the fact that so much pain had been brought upon her.
She was a sweet soul, didn't turn me away when I showed up on her doorstep at a late hour a bit tipsy and in a state where my rational side had less control than it usually had. Instead of telling me to go to hell she ushered me inside and held me. Her sweet coconut scent had somehow managed to acquaint itself with the fabric of my shirt and I was far from upset about it as a grin stretched across my lips.
I knew all along the initial plan had been to make little contact but the more I saw of her, the more I found myself craving. It drove me to be impulsive, pushing her buttons but I never knew I'd grow to enjoy seeing her angry- but I did.
And yet your own blood inflicted pain on her.
That little voice in my head ruined my mood and I eventually stopped staring at her. Choosing to move around and try to find anything to occupy my time or else I'd go back to silently praising her features. I'm sure after my little episode last night; she's deemed me a nut job. The last thing I'd want was to confirm her suspicions by having her wake up and find me looking at her like some weirdo.
Taking in the spacious apartment, it was modest but elegant and I immediately felt comfortable in the place whose very designs and colors gave a clue into the person she was. There were a few photos on the walls of her family, bringing a smile on my face at a particular picture of her as a child. Feeling triumphant at seeing her as a child but slightly disappointed at how adorable she looked in her pig tails as opposed to the embarrassing one of me picking my nose.
Aunt Jeane really took too much pleasure in embarrassing me.
A pleasant floral smell was in the air as I stumbled upon her desk littered with law journals that my eyes passed over.
What did make me surprised was the sight of my manuscript open sitting on her table. Given the amount of highlighting done I could only assume she was taking her duty to critique my work seriously.
Lifting the manuscript to take a closer look another stack of pages fell out from the manuscript. Taking a quick look behind my shoulders to ensure she hadn't woken up, I placed my manuscript on the side and picked up the papers joined together. The minute my eyes landed on the words, my hands as if holding a mind of their own moved to the first page that read Tim's Poetry Book.
Grabbing the chair, I took a seat flipping through the pages, fascinated, curious to learn more about him. The thing about going through an author's work that I've come to find was that you're almost given a glimpse into what goes on in their minds. You learn about what kind of childhood they had without them saying it; learn about their perspective on certain subjects of love or sex- even power.
But hidden behind the shades of my head I was aware I secretly wished I had met him and known him. Wished he wasn't taken in such a way. And every time I think about just how it all came to be like this, I couldn't hold back regardless of this so-called will power we've been given to shed tears. Taking slow steady breaths, I flipped to the last page to find my eyes landing on the words The Choice staring back at me.
However, before I had the chance to learn more about what made him who he was, the sound of a light moan immediately had me standing up. Ensuring that I placed the manuscript back to its rightful place- knowing I was far from done with it.
I moved tentatively to the living-room where she stood stretching her limbs and I paused briefly by the threshold. Taken aback by how the light coming from the window landed on her, bathing her in its glow that made me blink twice.
To question if this was some dream where she was some angel sent to me, corny admittedly but the truth.
An angel being lusted by a demon, ironic isn't it?
The vile voice murmured in my head, the same voice that's haunted me for years when I attempted to cower away. I clenched my jaw, suddenly upset knowing that if she knew just how fucked up things were concerning my past that was slowly affecting my present she'd hate me even more.
I shook my head the minute I heard another voice invade my space. This one was softer, more angelic in a way that could have seduced me into anything. I found her watching me, her face void of any of the annoyance I assumed she'd have but instead holding a smirk.
"Sorry, what?"
She rolled her eyes in mild annoyance, crossing her arms and in as much as I pride myself on being respectful, I couldn't help but drop my gaze to her cleavage.
"I said . . . this is usually the part in the story where you thank me, right?"
And I couldn't withhold the laugh that tumbled out of me at the victorious smirk on her face.
"No. . . First I need to apologize for everything," I paused scratching the back of my head, feeling awkward. However, I had to address this issue head-on and show just how sincere I was, I never meant to disrupt her night.
And her life.
"A lot has been happening. And I know it's not an excuse," I murmured shuffling on my feet wishing I had the nerve to lift my head and at least look her in the eye.
I heard a sigh slip past her pouty lips and steeled myself for the yelling or profanities I'd heard from past occasions. But nothing came. Instead, she said," it's okay. You helped me out before and. . . ." she laughed lightly," the way I see it, now we're even."
I lifted my head throwing it back from the laugh that crept up on me as I shook my head in disbelief," I can't believe you're keeping count."
"I can't help it. It's nice to be the savior in this situation."
"The savior?" I asked incredulously only to have her nod in response.
"If I left you out there, the next time I would have seen you would be on the news."
Interesting. . .
"Do you . . . do you care about me?" I muttered advancing towards her, her eyes widened in shock as she took a step back matching my slow stealthy pace. I wanted to smile at the little dance we had unintentionally fallen into till the wall blocked her from moving any further.
"Nowhere to go," I cooed smiling in victory at the panic written on her face." Just answer the question."
She cleared her throat narrowing her eyes on me, giving me a view of the walls in those orbs of hers form, such that before she even said anything I knew she would never admit it.
So stubborn.
"I had to take you in. As much as you annoy me- I wouldn't wish the burden of you onto anybody else," she shrugged her shoulders, I followed the action. Moving my eyes along the path I had drawn long ago on her skin from the time I first saw her barge into the hospital room. I wanted to tell her so much then and there, but something inside me. I'm not sure just what, wanted me to be selfish and take the time to understand the woman standing a couple of inches below my chin.
"Be that as it may, if you'd turned me away . . . I would've slept on your doorstep."
"You're joking," she laughed.
"I'm not," she stopped laughing once she saw the serious expression on my face," I want you to be the only one handling me," I mumbled pouting at the eye roll that came my way.
"I hate to say this, but I think I prefer this side of you over what I saw last night."
I sobered up from my mild daydream, the pitiful look as her eyes moved all over my face making me nervous. As if the longer she examined me the sooner it will take to discover the secrets I was holding.
"I'm fucked up goods, huh?" I chuckled reiterating the words my father once said to me, damaging the light I had inside myself. I had believed it then- resorted to hurting myself, resorted to hurting other people who didn't look like me all in an aim to please him.
"We all have parts of ourselves we don't like. . . I mean look at me. I've developed a form of prejudice just because of something that happened in the past. I-I know it's wrong," she pursed her lips in thought," but I just . . . can't help it."
"Yes you can," I replied, she seemed incredulous or dare I say doubtful despite my assertive tone, she tucked a few loose curls out of her face as she looked away. I clenched my jaw; the best option in my mind to prohibit the smile at the gesture I decided was cute given how awkward she acted. And this moment was no exception as she sputtered random words, failing to make sense.
Looking past her fumbling, tripping past her words, my hand reached out as if it was based on an instinct to touch her, halting whatever she had been saying. To be honest I hadn't bothered to pay much mind to her incoherent words, too engrossed in her skin that looked smooth. Intrigued to take a leap of faith and touch it- see if it felt as good as it looked.
Caressing her cheek, the warmth greeted my fingertips that moved from her cheek to the side of her neck. Her breathing came out evenly which was a stark contrast to the pace at which my heart beat, keeping my eyes from meeting her gaze. Knowing if I looked into her brown pools all forms of despair will dissipate making uttering the word good-bye feel like a boulder on my tongue.
I knew that I was only digging myself deeper into this, however, that never stopped me from saying lowly given she was close to me.
So close.
"I won't hold anything against you. When the day comes, I don't want you to hold any of the bad stuff against me either. I want you . . . no matter what happens to still see me as the good guy. Can you do that?" I wrapped my hand around her neck, keeping a light pressure on her skin out of respect to not taint her any more than was done. I nearly leapt for joy at the way she pushed herself further into my hand whilst maintaining a steady gaze on me. Her voice unwavering and firm.
"I can do that."