SINS (Completed)

SILENT TRUTHS

Hardin

The wind blows through my hair as I speed along the roads of Liverpool, now throbbing with vehicles. I realise it's 8pm, and I don't even have an account of where every minute flew since when I entered the stadium at college.

It's almost hard to believe that I just spent five hours with the girl my head is hell bent on making me hate, but when I turn my head to look at her sleeping form beside me- it's not hard at all.

Her hair sprawled against the seat of my car, flies gently all around her head, some tendrils landing on her face. Her eyes are closed in peace, seamless lips slightly parted in sleep. Her nose has gone a tad red like it does in cold and the lights of the passing buildings glow on her face in different hues of yellow, purple, dim red sometimes.

She talks on and on, and she likes it so much, I chuckle. Of course it's been five hours, it's been just five hours. I can't say that any amount of time spent with this girl will ever be called long.

There's an immediate siren that goes off in my head like a fire alarm that my thoughts are misdirected. But I've been so effortlessly happy today, that I take a day off from my own self.

I don't know what made me bring her here, but when she wept against my chest, clenching my collar, I just knew she had to be happy again, because it didn't- it just didn't feel particularly nice.

Then she danced, and laughed and annoyed me and called me bro and then annoyed me again. She was happy. I, was happy. Am happy. I don't know how long it'll last this time, but it's tempting.

I drive smooth this time, not making sharp turns and drifts, so she doesn't wake. Also, because if she does wake, she's going to start talking again. And not stop.

I can't believe she gave me shit the entire ride. Though I won't deny, it was wildly entertaining to see her all flustered and annoyed, cribbing and blabbering. Still, I did that so she gets an adrenaline shock and at least snaps out of her upset mood. Which, of course worked. It's not really that hard to get her mind off of something, because it loves to wander.

She even got me lasagna. That was uncalled for. For a moment there, I was baffled about how to respond there, if I should say thank you, or a regular 'you didn't have to' like normally everyone does. But they all sounded abnormally boring, formal and pretentious, so I said nothing. I should say thanks though. Maybe.

The same had happened with Trevor, when he got me a watch for my birthday. I did say thank you, before it got weird- but it still- weirded me out.

It felt good. When she ran all the way back, gasping for breath to fetch something for me, and the way her face lit up with excitement and warmth for having brought me something, it did feel good.

I glide between the cars, the sounds of wheels and horns falling carelessly on my ears. It's still cold, I should have brought a jacket. For my own self.

She looked beautiful today. It reminded me so much of the bonfire night. As she shrieked when we hoisted her up and the way she smiled at the sky when the snow fell on her face softly. She was immensely happy, and knowing that I had a part in it, was-

I don't- have a term for that feeling.

She's like this talisman to my brain, a witch's spell, a magnetic fire, a siren's call- and she keeps pulling and pulling. Fighting it has driven me mad.

The best moment had to be her, against the violin song. She looked unrealistically radiant, nervous, relaxed, happy, anxious all at the same time. Her face is such a book, there's just so much flashing on it.

I don't know what goes on in that head of hers, but I knew she was questioning this. Me. This evening. And I know she's going to ask again, but I don't know if I'll have an answer then either.

And the whole time here, I could see; I could see slips of fear and anxiety in her mind that all this is once again, a game, a lie.

I wish it was.

Author's rant:

I'm going to be unavailable for the weekend because I'm going to cry my romance-deprived ass off after this chapter.

Just kidding about the weekend part. Dead serious about the crying part.

Remember to vote. Comment. And love.

Until later.
S.