BUCKYNAT: WILDEST DREAMS

Chapter VII: Freedom

James and I walk up and down streets. I've seen the streets before from the windows of transport vehicles, but something about them is different. As if they're tinted by the newfound sense of freedom I have. 

"Are you hungry?" He asks. I shrug. "Come on," He says, "There must be some place to get something good on this street." He speeds up. I keep holding on to his hand as I run behind him. Out of breath, we finally arrive at a restaurant. It's small and old-looking but it's the only resultant we could find open at this time. James opens the door and we take a table near a window. A waiter approaches us. 

"What would you like to eat?" He asks. It's a hard question. I never have to decide on what food I want. Usually, it's just served to me, whether I like it or not. "I personally recommend the sausages and mash." He added. 

"I'll take that." I say. He nods and adds it to his notepad. He then looks at James for his answer. 

"I'll take what the lady is having." He says. The waiter then goes away. I giggle quietly. "What?" He asks. 

'Nothing." I laugh. "It's just you talk like people did fifty years ago." I say. 

"I do not!" He exclaims. "I just talk normally." He shrugs. I laugh again. 

"Maybe you don't notice it." I say and then smile at him. He takes a sip of his water. 

I have the best fun I've ever had. The food is good, very good, but I don't really care about it. Not when James is talking. He's the best person to have conversations with. He's funny but also intelligent. He knows a lot of things, useless things that are interesting, which makes conversations with him so good. He also listens well. 

"You know those white sculptures from the Renaissance?" He asks. I laugh at the random remark. 

"Yeah." I answer. 

"Did you know that they were originally painted, but with time all the paint washed off?" He asks. 

"Really?" I say. He nods. "How do you know all this stuff?" I ask him. He finishes chewing some of his food before answering. 

"They make me read a lot of books. Historical ones. I don't know why they do it, but at least the stuff's interesting." He says. I can see the hurt in his eyes whenever he talks about 'them'. It's hard to ignore. 

We talk late into the night. Eventually, we get kicked out of the restaurant. When we see the sun outside beginning to peak from the horizon, we both decide we need to get back. I wish we could just never go back to that place. I think while I link my arm with his. But it's too dangerous to leave. They'll be after us. The both of us. They'll probably kill me, and then wash James's memory. I realize. The thought makes me shudder. James notices and then holds me closer. We only speak again when the red room building is in sight. 

"Natalia?" He asks. 

"Yes?" 

"Did you, when you... erm..." He pauses. It's strange hearing him being so awkward. "When you met me, um..." He stops again. I still don't know what he's trying to say. "Do you..." He sighs and then looks down at his feet. "I'm an idiot." He says quietly, thinking I can't hear him. 

"James. You can ask me anything." I say. I don't know if it helps. He sighs again. 

"I won't ask." He says finally, "I don't know how." He continues. I'm still confused. He takes a deep breath. "Natalia, I..." 

I suddenly turn around so that I'm looking him directly in the face. I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him closer to me. He places his arms around my neck. Our faces are close together. His body is warm except for his metal arm, which is cold on my neck. Our foreheads touch and then our noses. Finally, he kisses me. Our lips part for a second to breathe before he kisses me again. I don't resist. 

When we both pull away, he looks into my eyes. 

"Is that what you were trying to say?" I ask shyly. 

"You stole the words right off my mouth." He replies.