Chereads / People destroy beautiful things / Chapter 5 - - 5 On a moving train

Chapter 5 - - 5 On a moving train

[Music Background: Chris Brown – Under the influence]

Many months ago

The train compartments were nearly empty as it was a quiet Wednesday afternoon. Sunlight streamed through the train, casting a 45-degree angle of light across the halls, illuminating Marie-Rose from the left side, leaving only half of her silhouette visible.

Lost in thought, she made her way down the train, mentally counting the doors to find compartment number 5. As she reached for the door handle, her gaze fell upon a pair of male sports shoes. Someone approaching from the opposite direction had halted in front of the same door simultaneously.

Quickly lifting her head, she stepped to the side to allow the young man to pass. Judging from the shoes, she imagined a tardy teenage boy, dodging the noon rush on the train, common for the many teenagers from the surrounding rural area commuting to attend higher education.

To her surprise, the person standing before her was nothing like she had envisioned. Her breath caught as she locked eyes with a breathtakingly handsome man who greeted her with a smile.

"No, I have the seat in the same compartment!" he assured her, noticing that she had moved out of his way.

He remained motionless, fixated on her with a bewitched expression, rooted to the spot, until he was able to finally snap out from the silent connection.

In his intention to enter, his hand coincided with hers on the doorknob, causing a momentary brush of their fingers. The unexpected touch flushed her cheeks with a rosy hue, the electrifying sensation scaring her, and she quickly pulled her hand away, although her eyes remained fixated on his. He had beautiful, expressive hands, that captivated her with their elegance.

Completely absorbed in her worries, Marie-Rose was too distracted to pay attention to her own reactions. Her nervous fidgeting only amplified her embarrassment.

Recognizing her captivation, she averted her gaze to the floor as she stepped into the compartment through the door that he graciously held open for her. Seeking solace, she settled on the window sill, nestling into her seat, her gaze fixed on the outside bustle.

As the train started moving, she focused on the passing scenery, intentionally ignoring the man opposite her. He, too, refrained from taking the seat facing her, instead settling comfortably in the middle of the couch, his gaze occasionally drifting toward her.

After the train was set in motion, long time passed until she took notice of his presence again. 

She had no desire to engage in social interaction, appreciating his silence and respect for her personal space. However, a shift in the sunlight caused by the rails' change in route allowed her to glimpse his reflection on the window, leaving her genuinely speechless.

His striking reflection in the window's glass, its translucency accentuating his undeniable charm, drew her eyes back to him. Despite her prior attempts to avoid his gaze, she found herself drawn to his ethereal beauty, which seemed to hover over his rugged, masculine features.

His charisma was undeniable. The shape of his face and the elegant lines that defined his features were so captivating that she had felt not only embarrassed to meet his eyes previously but also to now steal glances at his reflection. As he unexpectedly opened his eyes, perhaps sensing her gaze, she quickly averted her own.

'He must be one of those men who garner a lot of attention from women, a real charmer. I mean, he's as striking as a gem, but he's probably a smooth-talker,' she chided herself, a little annoyed at her own weakness for his handsome looks.

She referred to the radiant glow encircling his face as beauty, even though the appropriate term for handsome males was "handsome." She did so because it truly was a form of beauty, detached from his rugged, masculine features. His attractiveness was the ethereal veil that enhanced his distinct yet appealing traits.

'Those green eyes...' she found herself yearning to examine them more closely. Green was a rare hue, and his eyes resembled the color of the ocean. 'What's happening to me? I usually don't find blondes appealing.' she thought, taken aback by her persistent desire to catch another glimpse of his eyes. 'Has this blonde somehow mesmerized me?' Frustrated by her own reaction, she clenched her fists while steadfastly avoiding his gaze.

Her mind raced with conflicting thoughts. She had never been interested in blondes. Yet here she was, captivated by this stranger's green eyes, wishing to study them closer. Frustrated with her own reaction, she clenched her fists, resisting the pull of his allure.

She used to mock such pretty boys. From a young age, she harbored a slight aversion to them, teasing and ridiculing them whenever the opportunity arose. But now, with solitude enveloping her and her high school best friend absent, she didn't feel audacious enough to speak to him with the same arrogance. Oh, how she longed for her friend! Where was she now when Marie-Rose needed her the most?

It was true; she didn't usually find blondes attractive. Her preferences typically leaned towards darker features. However, this time, something inside her had shifted, and she couldn't pinpoint what it was. Perhaps the initial image she captured of him had stirred that memory from her dream, although the details remained hazy in her recollection. The colors blurred in her mind, leaving her unable to grasp them clearly.

The allure of the boy's green eyes was undeniable. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. Opting to focus on the passing scenery, she soon became captivated by it, allowing his presence to slip into the recesses of her mind.

On his part, the man couldn't help but admire her unique beauty and the air of confidence that surrounded her. Although she seemed preoccupied and disinterested, her mysterious allure only intensified his curiosity. He wondered what troubled her, her calm exterior masking a deeper emotional turmoil.

For the man, who was used to receive a lot of attention, her trying to hide the admiration, the way she was stealing only short glances at him, were all even more appealing then the shy gestures in the beginning.

From the first moment he set his eyes on her, he was under her spell, his breath taken away by her simple charm as she stood there illuminated by the light of a single beam. She had singular facial features which made her stand out of the crowd of standardized, catalog beauties. A woman with red hair in a sea of blonde people. Her eyes were the most enticing, with their olive green color, with the warmness they emanated from their soft glares under which he, however, was able to guess a slight trace of sadness. The kind of eyes that compelled him to discover the source of their mystery.

He pondered the thoughts that might be hovering on her lips as she sat there, withdrawn and visibly troubled in the corner. Her gaze had briefly met his earlier, prompting his eyes to linger on the profile of her face. What could be troubling her? His curiosity surged, compelling him to turn his head towards her in an attempt to catch her attention.

He had begun observing her since in the corridor, he had been captivated by the enigmatic allure of her face, leaving him with little time to notice her overall appearance. Her beauty possessed a certain cold and sharp quality, yet beneath her distress, he sensed an inner peace and calm that added a softened touch to her demeanor.

'Ah, confidence!... I love it,' he silently praised her. Despite any apparent awkwardness in her initial movements, her subsequent behavior exuded unwavering self-assurance. There was no hint of curiosity in her, no indication that she would respond to his evident stares. Nevertheless, he shamelessly observed her, his gaze becoming increasingly insistent.

'Whatever I do, I should not give him any attention. I should not talk to him. I'll only get into trouble,' Marie-Rose thought the moment she noticed him glancing at her from the corner of her eye.

Meanwhile, he took note of her attire, which, despite being inexpensive, exuded chic fashion, aligning with his own casual dress sense during his leave from military duties. His sneakers lent a sporty touch, while the white woolen vest over his shirt, complementing his green jeans, gave him a polished look. Working in an office environment presently, he sported slightly grown hair that sat like a crown atop his head, its tousled curls waving in different directions.

She wore delicate sandals that gave her feet the appearance of those belonging to a Greek goddess. His gaze followed the graceful lines of her legs up to the knee-covering dress, adding to her mythological allure with its simple fabric and tasteful cut. He half-expected a smile in return, but received none. So, he opted to break the ice instead.

"Are you on a business trip?" he asked, finding a plausible question to pose. Her elegant attire suggested an office role, indicating she was likely focused on her job. The modesty of her appearance conveyed this information, leading him to believe it was a fruitful path to pursue as he sought to win her over. There was an inexplicable urge within him to play with fire, convinced he would not get burned.

Their subtle game of exchanging glances continued, both clearly drawn to each other by an unseen force.

His question prompted her to swiftly turn her head towards him.

"Oh, no, I work at the social assistance department of the town hall in Constance. I'm just visiting my hometown since I was recently transferred to Constance," she explained. As she finished speaking, she couldn't help but feel a pang of regret for being so forthcoming. Why did she have to divulge that information? After all, they were strangers.

'Whatever I do, we don't have to reach the point of exchanging phone numbers. He'll probably think I'm just a desperate chick looking for an easy hookup.'

He attempted to compliment her style, noting her apparent appreciation for fashion based on the accessories that complemented her coordinated wardrobe.

"Do all social workers have such refined taste in dressing?" he inquired.

"Well, we do have a certain dress code, but it's quite different from mine," she admitted, thinking about the standard black-skirt-white-shirt pattern. With that, she turned away from him.

She felt insecure around him. She had never attempted to pursue attractive men like him, assuming they were all the same—playing with girls' hearts and discarding them eventually. She despised the game of seduction and manipulation that many women resorted to in order to keep a man committed. Lacking the confidence to handle someone like him, she preferred straightforward communication and clear expectations to avoid wasting her time.

An internal battle ensued within Marie-Rose. She was torn between acknowledging her attraction to him and her reservations about beautiful men. Feeling insecure about her own appearance, she struggled to comprehend his interest in her, convincing herself that he was merely critiquing her. Her inner conflict reflected in her mannerisms, occasionally giving him a quick glance before returning her gaze to the passing landscape.

'He is so beautiful. He must be a highly sought-after bachelor, for sure. He strikes me as the type to be with many women, and that's not what I'm looking for. Controlling a man like that, keeping him solely for oneself, must be a real challenge. I shouldn't be indulging in these daydreams!' His striking appearance acted as a red flag for her.

As she sensed his admiration, she began to steal fleeting glances at him with increasing frequency. She couldn't help but feel flattered to be the object of his curiosity, yet her joy was tempered by the realization of her own perceived inadequacies. Perhaps he was scrutinizing her appearance critically, even finding fault with her efforts to observe him.

The world was full of more beautiful women. Why would he take an interest in her when he had a multitude of options? She scolded herself for entertaining such thoughts, her spirits plummeting further at the notion that he could detect her lack of self-assurance. Despite this, he chose to respect her privacy, recognizing her discomfort at his attention.

In his presence, she became timid, her fingers fidgeting nervously, but as soon as he retreated, her body relaxed, releasing the tension that had built up. Catching his gaze with a mischievous smile, he seemed intent on teasing her until he captured her undivided attention. Yet she opted to ignore him, her expression growing somber as she sank into her own contemplations. He would have given anything to unravel the mysteries of her mind, but to him, she remained an indecipherable enigma, her demeanor foreign and unfamiliar compared to the typical attention lavished upon him by other women.

Most women flirted shamelessly with him the moment they laid eyes on him, their gazes sparkling with sudden interest. They vied for his attention, employing various tactics, yet this demure girl appeared completely disinterested, to the point that she rendered him invisible, her gaze fixed emptily on the outside world as if lost in a void.

He had been on the brink of introducing themselves, but her swift gesture of turning her head in the opposite direction halted his momentum. Since then, he feigned interest in the passing landscape through the window, all the while silently studying her. From what he could tell, she seemed to be around his age.

Quietly, he admired her profile, her calm demeanor, and her apparent detachment from their surroundings. Deciding not to disturb her any further, as she didn't appear to be the talkative type, he found himself drawn into the intriguing simplicity that emanated from her. Yet there was an air of mystery about her that intrigued him even more.

Deep in her thoughts, Marie-Rose failed to notice the single tear tracing its path down her cheek.

Unbeknownst to the outer world, she reminisced about her ex-boyfriend, questioning her decision to end their relationship. Yet, she reminded herself of the professional boundaries she had to maintain as his former therapist.

For the past five years, she had served as his therapist. Well, that information wasn't entirely accurate. Initially, she had treated him for approximately two years until an opportunity arose to fulfill her lifelong dream of working with vulnerable children. After transitioning to her new job, their relationship evolved into something more intimate.

Reflecting on their history, his beautiful blue eyes appearing on the screen of her mind, she couldn't help but question whether she had made a mistake in getting involved with him. Initially, she had believed he was on the path to recovery, but recent events had proven otherwise, leaving her entangled in this unsettling and sickening situation.

Her internal turmoil eventually brought her to tears, and the man couldn't help but notice her distress.

Concerned, he gently inquired, "Hey, what's bothering you? Can I help in any way?" His protective instincts kicked in, touched by her vulnerability. Marie-Rose turned to him, surprised by his empathy, hastily wiping her tears and offering a gentle smile.

'Oh, great! Here I am, winning the cry baby of the year award!'

She was accustomed to people not caring, being overly selfish, and fixated on their continuous search for weaker individuals to turn into their scapegoats for their own problems.

"It's nothing, really!" she assured him.

When their eyes met once again, he felt his heart skip a beat, frozen in a prolonged gaze like in a mirror.

As their eyes met once more, a charged silence enveloped them, revealing an unspoken connection that neither of them could deny.

Thus, had their lives become entangled.

"Nothing?" he probed, captivated by the complexity hidden beneath her composed exterior.