Seduced Fall ✔️

20. Sharing the past

Stefan Pierce

"Would you like some wine?"

"Sure," she answers. I pour us two glasses of red wine while she picks up the puppy with one hand. I wouldn't let someone bring a dog into my room, but if I try to argue with Clara about it, it will take me a while to convince her.

We make our way upstairs to my bedroom through the wooden staircase and flooring. I hold the door open for her.

She steps in, taking in her surroundings and smiling as she sees the wonderful work of nature-inspired architecture spread around the space. My room is not a money-sucking knock-off of any hotel room, it has the most basic interior.

Everything is made of wood, even concrete decorations. A wardrobe with most of my formal clothing, a flower vase on a coffee table with a chair, and a king-size bed in the center.

But instead of looking at it, she heads towards the main attraction of my room: the semicircular balcony.

She steps onto the frigid floor, and a gust of wind blows across her face. I walk anxiously behind her, much like a real estate agent does after a home buyer. Her wine glass is quickly set on the balustrade-like railing as she concentrates on the puppy in her arm.

Her mind is drawn to something far away in the dark gardens behind the houses in front.

"How peaceful it would be to live here," she murmurs, taking a long breath that carries a perfume of tranquility in its air. The night crickets are performing their own concert.

We acknowledge each other's presence while the stalling words are something as simple as they could be, yet none of us confesses.

"Can I ask you something?" she asks, interrupting my quiet.

Her voice becomes solemn, her composure remains calm, unmoving, but her eyes are shielding the thoughts racing through her mind. I'm intrigued about what's going on inside her head.

"Yeah?" I respond in the same tone and seriousness as she does.

"Why did you bring me here today? At your place?" She directs her attention away from everything else and toward me. "Why me out of all the girls that throw themselves at you?"

I'm taken aback by her words, yet her almost subtle smirk doesn't go unnoticed. She and I both know what she's saying.

Everyone on campus is aware of our relationship. They know there's no one I've ever let get too near to me when it comes to it. I've never asked anyone out or given anyone a ride in my car other than Charlie.

Yesterday's experience is still fresh in my mind. A stalker girl who claims to be in love with me approached me alone in the parking lot and yelled without waiting for me to respond.

"You know that I like you, right? Despite this, you refuse to speak to me or respond to my gestures. Why? What's so special about that bitch with whom you're always fighting about stupid shit?"

I was angry at her choice of words. And it's not that I hate it when others, especially girls, compliment my looks or express interest in dating me. What's not to like? It's just that I want to be with someone who appreciates who I am as a person and respects my choices.

That is, as cliché as that may sound, the truth.

I tried to say something comparable to what that girl had just blurted out, but I couldn't. I found myself thinking over and over again. However, I had no idea what words I was looking for.

Why does my mind keep returning to her, even if it's to fight or end her absurd fights?

I still don't have the answer to that.