Warm

24

I'm sneaking out.

It's been a week and half that I haven't seen my precious museum. Technically, I could go. But if the press found out my leg is broken, the hundreds of articles that would question my credibility will resurface. The press is not kind to me. They often label me as "Poppy Clane's Wannabe" or "Poppy Clane's first mistake." My favorite one is "Aurora Blanca: Walking in shoes that don't fit." Despite all of that, there are also hundreds of kind articles, expressing their admiration in taking this opportunity and making it my own. I even have a fan base. Still, walking out there risks the chance of the press twisting this situation into something it isn't. I make sure my cap is low enough to hide my face. My large, dark sunglasses envelope my features. And there's nothing like a scarf to cover my mouth. I may look weird but at least I don't look like Aurora Blanca.

"Where are you going?" Keanu says, making my hand freeze on the doorknob.

"None of your business." It's been like this the whole time I've been here. Keanu says something and I reply with something mean. Never having a full conversation, simply bickering. Although there is so much to say between us, neither of us say much.

"Okay, I'm going with you."

I sigh. "Please don't."

"And what're you going to do if you fall?" He shakes his head and puts on his coat. "Nope. Esperanza will kill me for that."

"I'll get back up. I've done it a thousand times without your help."

These words poke bullet holes through him. Unlike before when my words were spitting fire, he would simply dodge them. Now he's letting them hit him. 

"Whatever, go fall for all I care."

I'm only slightly taken aback by his easy defeat. He must be tired of fighting with me. Either way, I don't let it bother me much. I have a museum to go to.

Using crutches is annoying and difficult. There are times where I almost slip but I manage to catch myself before I do. My stupid leg only drags the time between me and my museum. I even let myself imagine what it would be like to be a Barbie doll. To simply detach my leg and add a new one. Nothing seems to ever be that easy anymore. I was feeling pretty discouraged but the closer I get to the museum, the more my energy fills up.

But when I turn the corner, a mass of people surround it. I notice they carry cameras and mics, it becomes clear they are not just ordinary people. Its the press. Why would so many be at my museum? There's no way I can get it. Still, I walk closer slowly, trying not to bring too much attention to myself. Then a man and his camera turn to me. The same man who interviewed me when I first opened, eyes me suspiciously.

Quickly, I try to turn around but my crutch gets stuck in a crack on the street. My hands spread open to keep me from falling but instead of concrete, it's a pair of arms I meet.

Keanu wears the worst disguise ever. He wears sunglasses that aren't even shaded. Anyone who knows him would recognize him. 

"What're you doing here?" I whisper.

"I knew you would fall." His arms hold me tight in his embrace, keeping me from falling on hard cement.

"Is there a guy looking at us?" I ask.

"Right at us."

Nervousness pours down on me. If I thought getting caught with a broken leg was bad, getting caught with Keanu would be the end of me. I could already read the headlines. "Aurora Blanca was caught cheating with another woman's boyfriend." Everything that I worked for would be ruined in one single moment.

"He's coming closer," Keanu whispers.

Before I can even think about how terrible of an idea this is, I drop the other crutch and wrap my arms around Keanu's neck. I hide my face in the crook of his neck as he lowers his.

My heart gets caught in my throat as I breathe in his familiar scent. The scent I couldn't wash away from his coat. The one hanging in the back of my closet, neglected. But I've never been able to rid myself of it. No matter how much anger or pain I felt, I could not bring myself to throw it away.

We stay like this for a couple of moments, maybe even a moment too long, as we wait for the man to find something more interesting.

"Is he gone?" I lift my head to look but Keanu turns me to face him.

"No. Not yet. I'll tell you when."

I suspect that he was gone. No one would stare at what appears to be a couple for any longer than 30 seconds. But one minute passes, then 5. And I let them pass. Because it's never been easy to untangle myself from his arms.

Eventually, I pull away, grabbing on to his arm for balance. Suddenly, his arm hardens as solid as rock. "Are you seriously flexing right now?" I sneer. He grins obnoxiously. "Get me my crutches." Keanu helps me balance myself back on them.

"This whole crutch look really suits you. Personally, I-"

"What're you doing here? I thought you weren't coming."

"I wasn't coming for you. I'm picking up Alex." He states matter-of- factually.

Of course he didn't come for me. What was I thinking?

My chest rises and falls fast from the flames burning inside. "Bye, then." I walk away on my crutches, not strong enough to look back. Not only does my fury burn but so do my arms from carrying my weight. They feel sore and weak. I haven't even taken that many steps when I force myself to rest on the wall. Only then do I glance back at him. And he's walking. Towards me.

"I thought you were-" I start but he sweeps me off my feet, carrying me in both arms.

A flashback to when I fell plays in my brain like a new memory. Keanu was carrying me just like this. Except, his face was sheer white and tears streamed down his face. He calls out my name, trying to get me to keep my eyes open.

"Put me down," I wiggle my limbs to make it more difficult for him.

"At the rate you were walking, you would've gotten to the house in 6 days." His body is firm and hard, carrying me as if I was a toddler. He carries me the rest of the way to his house, only putting me down when we've reached a chair. Keanu shakes his arms back to life.

"Nobody asked you to carry me," I argue.

"That's the problem. You could break your other leg and crawl before you ask me for anything."

"So you know. That's good."

Our glares lock, neither one of us refusing to look away. Finally, I give up. "Go pick up your girlfriend before she has bitch fit."

He sighs. "Glad to know you're still as well-spoken as ever."

I ignore his sarcasm, walking back to the room, with my stupid foot dragging behind me.

It's only when I hear the slam of a door that I let myself melt into a mixed puddle of emotions. I'm livid at myself for the way I so easily fell back into his arms, as if I never really left. For the familiar skip of my heart and flush of my skin. It all came back so easily. Like he wasn't gone for 4 years. Or like he isn't dating the girl he said he never felt that way for. But he saved me, again. My eyes shut close to push away the thought. 

Mostly, I'm seething at the fact my body is still reacting to the effects of being in touch with Keanu. The spiders that grew to replace the butterflies are now easily overtaken. Butterflies flutter everywhere. My hands clench at my side, begging to throw anything. I take it out the pillow.