Dear Frienemy | SCK AU story

5 | A Not So Simple Plan

Eda

      I felt like I was on fire when he finally kissed me. It was intoxicating -- how his lips graze mine – gently tugging and teasing at my lower lip, before growing greedy –turning the kiss into something sinful. I tell myself to not succumb to my desire, but it's a warning my brain has no intention to heed. A bolt of pleasure spears through me, churning up lustful feelings I can no longer suppress. I often feel frustrated and exhilarated, when my desire for him raises its amorous head every time he's of close proximity.

      He didn't have to hold my hand when we were in the limousine -- there was no need for us to pretend to be the loving couple in the absence of an audience, but he did. Perhaps he was morphing into his role as my fake boyfriend before we reached his parents' palatial estate, where the party was being held over a week ago. 

      It seems like each step he takes, tilts my world more to its side. He seems to have this ability to evoke convoluted feelings within me in his presence, and has the power to induce a reluctant sense of longing in absentia. His sporadic contradicting behaviour towards me throws me for a loop -- as time goes by, my sense of confusion becomes more apparent. The more time we spend together, the line between pretense and reality seems to bleed more into both spheres.

      Our simple plan to pretend to adore each other in the presence of an audience just elevated to a different level. A simple plan is starting to feel complicated, as our emotions for one another blossom into something none of us were prepared for. At least this is how it seems. How he caresses my hand longer than necessary, and how his kisses linger pass the prying eyes, seem to suggest that his feelings for me is not imagined. My life all of a sudden feels like it shares a similar corny Hallmark movie plot line, with a predictable ending.

       I agreed to be his pretend girlfriend for 30 days based on the assurance that I wouldn't develop feelings for a man like Serkan Bolat. He was unlike any man I've ever dated and doesn't possess any of the qualities I typically desire in a partner. A heartbreaker who's infuriatingly handsome, is typically someone I try to stay clear of.

      Once I stop hiding behind my cloak of denial, I realize that I might have grossly underestimated his charms and the perilous effects he seems to have on me. The more I'm acquainted with him, the more I become privy to another layer of Serkan that's never on display for the rest of the world to witness or experience.

      Our original symbiotic plan was a means to an end for us initially -- but somewhere along the way, he ends up rocking my world in the most unexpected and amazing way. My feelings for him has torpedoed into a less than ideal situation that can potentially leave my broken heart out in the cold. An unrequited love seems inescapable in my foreseeable future -- unless the feelings are mutual.

      Theoretically, Serkan and I don't make sense. His mother has distastefully made it a point to emphasize that him and I are not suited for each other, and that we have nothing in common. I get it, she doesn't think I'm good enough for her only son -- her 'golden child'. I'm able to form a complete picture when I find myself reading between the lines.

      Mrs. Bolat's well-practiced politician smile was easy for me to decipher. Her saccharine words dripping with poison -- her insults camouflaged as compliments. Women like her are as transparent as cellophane – she's nothing but a rose with treacherous thorns. To the uppity so-and-sos, I'm the girl from the 'wrong' part of town -- a girl who's dating a man 'out of her league'.

      I'm so infuriated that Serkan Bolat is such a dreamboat - the hills and valleys sprawled over his taut abs bring me to dizzy heights and mess with my sanity. My attraction for him does nothing to simplify our perfect plan -- our simple plan that benefits both parties.

      His magic hands just seem to know where to touch me. His lips mould to mine as if they were made for them -- his gaze holding unspoken promises. I try to convince myself that he takes his role as my fake boyfriend seriously, which accounts for why his kiss is never just a kiss -- his touch is never just a touch. It feels like something more - there's a connection between us that's difficult to deny or defy, and too foreign to me to define.

      He's lit the fire in the belly of my soul that scares and excites me -- he feels so right and wrong when he brings me in for an embrace, or when he touches me, or kisses me.

       Freedom is found in the falling. I'm torn between curbing my emotions and allowing them to emerge, to blossom, to soar and to fall into them, with no fear. I never saw love coming, but I feel it, swooping in like a summer storm -- relentless, unapologetic, and awakening all my emotions along its path.

      Love is not a science that can be dissected or experimented, nor does it operate on a specific time line - the heart wants what it wants after all -- as cliche as it sounds. Who the heart desires is as much a mystery as the true meaning of life. It would be reckless of me to think that I'm in love with him.  I am, without a doubt, falling for him, without meaning to. He's like an opiate -- one hit of him often leaves me paradoxically excited and apprehensive. His intoxicating charm makes me desire him more and more. There is no escaping Serkan Bolat.

      This crazy little thing called love. I guess it's true what they say -- love has a way of finding you, when you're not looking for it.