Unexpected

17. Helen

I don't understand what his problem is. He acts like I've done something wrong. What's the reason why he would avoid me? He also said he doesn't like doing it... so what does that mean? It's as if he was messing with my head, I have the impression that he is just teasing me a little.

We have a necessary need to rehearse that damn song, we have to work without interruption, no excuses.

The doorbell rings. "It's fucking raining, open." He has arrived.

I hurry to open the door and he enters with slightly damp hair and a wet sweatshirt.

"In this shitty country it rains all the time," he exclaims, complaining.

Once I close the door I lean on it with my back on it. "Say hello," I point out.

He puts his guitar down next to the couch, sits down and— oh shit, he's taking off his sweatshirt. "I'm avoiding you, remember?"

It's difficult — if not impossible — to think while he's sitting on the sofa in my house, wearing just one of those sleeveless men's undershirts that show off the muscles of his shoulders and gray sweatpants, hands behind his neck, completely comfortable.

"It doesn't make sense," I say, going to get the papers to study the song in my room.

"Oh, yes it does," he says, chuckling when I come back into the living room. "What did Daniel tell you? Are you going out with him?" he asks, leaning forward and rests his elbows on his knees, demanding an answer immediately.

I don't understand why he cares so much, it doesn't change a thing if I go out with him or not. "What? No," I reply as if it were rhetorical.

"He's a man-whore, okay? You can't go out with him." He looks me in the eyes, then from the backpack he takes a case with a pair of glasses inside and puts them on, that kind of gold-colored metal frame. I had never seen him like this, or maybe I never noticed, but they look great on him.

"He's a man-whore? And what are you, let's hear?" He is no less than Daniel, he fucked a lot of girls, I know for sure.

He snorts and gets up to get his guitar and sheet music. "Helen, he's worse. And you can't go out with him."

I stand in front of him and raise my chin defiantly. "Then tell me who I can go out with."

He shakes his head smiling. "You aren't going out with anyone."

It almost makes me laugh, because I have the impression that he hasn't understood the fact that he cannot tell me what to do and what not. "Who says this?"

"Me," and he sits down on the sofa again, placing his guitar beside him.

"And who are you to decide for me?"

From that he looked me straight in the eye, to that he looks at his hands. He remains silent, doesn't argue.

"Why can you see whoever you like and I can't?" Now I want an answer.

He looks up at me, suddenly grabs me by the wrist and pulls me to him. He is sitting on the edge of the sofa, I am standing between his legs. I get my answer. "Because you are only mine."

And it's at this exact moment, after this statement, that my body and my heart melt. Even more so when he starts kissing my belly uncovered by the long-sleeved top I'm wearing. Soft and warm kisses.

"And whose are you?" I ask him, almost in a whisper.

"Of all those people who catch my attention," he answers in his turn in a low voice.

I put my hands in his hair. "All of them then."

He stops kissing me and his blue eyes look at me with amusement, he has a smirk on his face. "You're jealous, Helen."

I chuckle. "No, I'm not. I'm just telling the truth." Or maybe a little bit yes. I would like to be the only one who attracts his attention.

And suddenly I wonder why I'd like it. I know I can't. It's risky to be with him. It's not worth it; I'd lose Jade's friendship and a few others. And I know he doesn't want anything serious.

"Not because I've slept with so many people means they've all caught my attention." He makes me sit astride him. The right thing to do would be to walk away from him, stop teasing each other like that and get to work on the song. But I don't feel like it.

"How many are they?" I ask him.

"What?" His gaze alternates between my lips and my eyes.

"All the ones that really caught your attention."

He licks his lips. "Only one, and you even know who she is."

I shake my head. It's impossible that it's me, I have nothing special. "I don't know."

He puts his hand on my neck and brings my face close to him to kiss me. On my lips, in a sigh he says, "You, you are the only one who really caught my attention."

I smile instinctively. My heart has now completely melted, it is a puddle of emotions. I didn't expect that.

"How beautiful your smile is," he tells me all of a sudden.

I look away for a moment, unable to maintain such intense eye contact with his eyes. "Please stop," I say, laughing.

He laughs too, and I realize how comforting his laugh is. Then he gets serious, he puts two fingers under my chin and forces me to look at him. "You are different."

"What's different about me?"

"Too many things that make you so special in my eyes."

"Then why do you say you hate me?"

He sighs and puts a hand on her cheek, stroking it with her thumb. "I don't want to ruin you, and I hate you because every time I'm with you I'm more and more tempted to do so."

Now I understand. I hate him for the same reason, I just don't want to ruin myself. My life would change and such a sudden change would ruin me.