I closed the notebook and moved away from the window. I had to create some distance between us, otherwise he’d see the mist forming over my blurring gaze, or even sense the pain before I could hide it.
I wasn’t sure if I could, but I’d try.
I also wasn’t sure why I was still this affected by him, when nothing had even happened between us to begin with. I guess it was my stubbornness that was making things difficult for me. He’d clearly moved on from that slight slipup two weeks ago. It wasIwho had to do the same now.
I sniffed to rid myself of the tingling in my nose, and then dropped the pen and notebook on top of one of my bookshelves.
Thank you, I quickly signed at him, and then turned around before making a beeline for the shower.
He was made of dreams, and made of meadows. He looked so sweet, and yet he hurt so deep.
13. Still Hurting
She was still hurting.
Should I be relieved over the fact that she still cared, or should I be worried because I, too, cared just as much, if not more?
All it had taken was her close proximity for me to lose my rationality. What did that say about me?
There was no point in it – in staying away, I mean. I’d tried to follow the routine of doing my job, minding my own business, and avoiding her at all costs, but what had that done for me?
Absolutelynothing.
I was done –sofucking done with playing the dud.
Then why the fuck wasn’t I doing something about it and living my life the way Ishouldbe living?
I may or may not know the correct answer to that question, but at least I knew what I had to donext.
Thank Christ for small miracles.
14. Team Anti-Myles
Three short chirps rang out as I opened the shop’s door and stepped in. “Cute,” I muttered, and then shook myself a little – like a freaking puppy on a wet day – to get rid of the excess snow on my clothes.
A short guy with glasses smiled at me in greeting, and so did the woman next to him – who was on the phone talking a bit too rapidly for it to be comprehensible to me.
Crash.
Everyone, myself included, turned towards the main counter, where Rina – shell-shocked and a little pale – was staring at me with wide, possibly wild eyes. She was wearing another one of her puff blouses, and this one was crimson, with two white buttons beneath a cute, lacy collar.
“What the hell just happened?” asked a guy who could give Taron a run for his money in terms of his physical appearance. He walked out of what looked like a kitchen, and frowned as he approached Rina.
I watched as she began signing something to him – so fast I had no idea what any of it meant – and after a while, the two of them chuckled.
“Daniel can clean it up for you,” the man said to Rina.
She pressed her lips together and shook her head at him. She must’ve then realized that I was still standing at the store’sentrance, because she briefly glanced at me, grabbed a pencil from the holder on the counter, and started writing something. She then snatched the paper and showed it to me, her expression unreadable.
What are you doing here?
I saw a flash of curiosity, and maybe even hope, in her eyes as she looked at me. I could tell that she was holding her breath, and somehow, that made mine come in faster.
I took a few steps in her direction. “I thought I’d check out the store, and buy a few things while I’m at it. I’m really curious to try some of the stuff I read on the menu outside.”
Rina visibly deflated at my answer, and her gaze hardened again, just like it had earlier today, right before she’d walked away from me after I’d refused to charge her for the birds’ food tray.
“Oh dear, you’re the asshole who hurt Rina, aren’t you?” said a voice from behind me.
