And I was not ready to face that shitstorm. I was happy living obliviously, the anxiety only ceasing my heart in small moments that I tried to brush off, no matter how consistent they were becoming.
My head was in my hands when my name was called.
I stayed still because the shitstorm was right beside me now.
His shoes scuffed the road as he sat beside me. “It’s settled down in there,” Zolt told me. “Imre and Benedek are at their table, as far as I could get them from Cris.”
I lifted my head to look at him. He surprised me often. How gentle and soft he could be versus how rough, dirty, and brittle he was with everyone. But mostly me. I got both extremes — as if he wasn’t sure whether to shield or ruin me.
He didn’t touch me. He just sat there, close enough to reach out if I needed him.
I stabbed my palms with my nails.
“Thank you,” I mumbled.
“Your burger is at the table,” he said, looking out to the street. “If you want to go back in there, I promise to keep Imre away.”
For once, it wasn’t Imre I didn’t want to see. I couldn’t face my dad and the pain I’d caused.
“I’m alright out here. I’ll book a taxi.”
He shook his head. “I’ll drive you.”
I took a deep breath.“I don’t want to owe you.”
“And you won’t. I don’t hold acts for bribes. Letting me spend time with you is really you doing me the favour.”
I laughed, but his expression remained sombre, halting my humour.
He was serious.
“I’m not having sex with you in your car.”
“I’m not having sex with you,” he said, voice firm. “And it’s a bike, not a car.”
My head inched back.Okay, ouch.
“So you accept that we shouldn’t…?”
He raised a brow for me to finish my question.
“That we can’t… you know? That we aren’t anything?”
He didn’t answer immediately. He only looked at me, the unspoken words thick between us, as if he wanted me to admit them first.
“Is that what you want to talk about right now?” he asked softly, turning his body to face me, his foot on the curb at my side.
“No… yes.” Anything that wasn’t the chaos inside.
“You think we can’t be together,”he said and stretched back, leaning on his palms.“You’re so intelligent, but you’re mistaken there.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes. There he went again with the back-handed compliments.
“I’m giving you space to figure it out,” he said and shrugged, looking back out at the street as if the quiet gliding cars were his favourite TV show. “And you will. One day, maybe you’ll feel a glimmer of what I feel for you.”
He smiled as he said it, like he was reminiscing about some memory I didn’t recall.
“I feel a glimmer of hatred,” I told him.
