"Take my hand," he shouts, dropping his gun and extending his arm towards me.
"Never in a million years," I snap, trying to steady myself as I feel my grip slowly slipping at the edge.
"Look here, Solace, I'm trying to save your life, not asking you...
"No way to shake these feelings I've been feelin' all this time Tell me yours are just as deep as mine I'm breakin' my defences Lettin' down my guard Showin' all my colors, and the stories to my scars Love is imperfection But if I play my cards Maybe then you'll show me all the shades of who you are." Just some deep lyrics I'm obsessed with. -×-
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It has started raining.
The sky's previous post-card look is surely changing, and the cocktail blue hue has slowly changed to gravel grey, darkening to tar-black. People run for cover as the first raindrops hit the ground, while umbrellas are opened to block out the beads of water. The clouds which had looked like airy anvils drifting under the gleaming disc of the sun had changed and what started as a whisper in the air was changing to a heavy downpour.
I place my hand on the window of the car, staring outside while the water dances on the roof of the car. I can hear the murmering of the rain, the whispering of the wind. The drops of rain drummed on the window glass of Zach's car as we drove to his house.
"So, tell me about yourself." I start, turning around to face Zach.
"Hmm? Well, father was Spanish, mother Indian," Zach says, glancing sideways at me.
"So you're from?"
He stays silent for awhile before replying, "India."
Touchy topic I guess.
"Why didn't you try for the CBI then?"
He looks at me from the corner of his eye, "I've been living here with my aunt since I was 17," he states, in a finalized tone, indicating the end of this conversation.
I respect it and don't pester him anymore even though the curiosity to know more grows in me. However, talking about imperfect families can get uncomfortable sometimes, that's something I can relate to.
"What about you? Where did you live before NYC?" he asks, as we stop at a traffic signal.
"Originally Toronto when my dad had a job, then we shifted to Philadelphia."
"Siblings?"
I chuckled,"None, but I had always wanted an elder brother who would help me out with escaping to parties without any one finding out."
"Believe me, having siblings isn't as fun as it seems."
"How come?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"She sends away my Skittles to our cousins when she's mad at me," Zach says wistfully, as if it's the biggest offence on the planet.
I laugh,"God, you're a crybaby."
He winks,"I love her more than anyone else either way."
