Blood Red || Book I

Chapter 13: the cycle

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF BLOOD AND VIOLENCE AND PAST SEXUAL ABUSE

Hell's Kitchen : 2016

Aleksandra's POV

The walk back to my apartment is sweet and slow. Like the walk to the coffee shop, there wasn't much talking, but it is different this time. The silence is softer and more comfortable.

Maverick's fingers keep brushing against mine, each time lingering longer. I quickly glance at him, wondering if he notices what he's doing. His eyes keep looking down at the ground, then up, then at our hands.

He's definitely doing it on purpose. Yet, I don't mind.

I move my fingers so they meet his halfway. Maverick's fingers start to curl around mine leading our hands to interlock. It takes me two seconds to realize that he's holding my hand.

He's holding my hand.

Holy shit.

He's actually holding my hand. I feel like I'm in one of the teen movies the Red Room used to be shown in our American Culture class. I'm walking with a boy, after a date, holding hands.

My apartment building comes into view and I'm dreading going home. I want to stay in this moment. Everything feels so so calming and safe. I don't have to worry about anything except for his hand and mine. The fact that this all has to end is the only thing that is making this moment sour, but it isn't enough to ruin it completely.

The doorman to my apartment looks right into my eyes and nods before opening the door for both Maverick and me. The doorman, whose name I have yet to learn, looks down at Maverick's and my hands. He doesn't display what he's thinking on his face, a trait I assume you pick up in his position of seeing all types of people who can afford whatever they want. He keeps his judgments to himself and keeps his face stoic, I can appreciate that.

The elevator doors open slowly, revealing only a young gentleman who hurries off without looking up from his phone. I drop Maverick's hand and walk into the elevator, turning around immediately so I'm able to look at Maverick. I didn't notice that Maverick has a puzzled look on his face until now. I look him in the eyes and give him a small smile, trying to make him feel better, but I'm unsure of what made him upset in the first place. I give Maverick a soft smile, trying to be kind in this situation while simultaneously trying to figure out what I did to make Maverick sad or worried.

Maverick looks back up at me and smiles back. His smile is much wider than mine, showing more teeth. He then follows me into the elevator and stands next to me. As soon as the door shuts, our hands interlock again.

I decide to break the silence, wanting to show my appreciation for tonight and that I do have feelings for him, I'm just unsure of what they are. "Thank you for the nice night and the coffee."

"Of course." He turns his head to look me in the eyes. "Thank you for saying yes."

Maverick's eyes shift away from my eyes to my lips, then back to my eyes. His mouth opens, about to say something but the elevator ding cuts him off, and the doors open to my floor.

He walks me to my apartment, our hands still intertwined, and the walk becomes silent again. I don't mind the silence, it's comforting with him. It's peaceful.

Maverick stands to my side as I unlock my door, letting go of my hand. The way he lets go of my hand is completely different from the way I let go of his. He lowers our hands down together and pulls away his palm, then his fingers while having them linger for a moment, then he gently set his hand back to his side. I, on the other hand, just dropped his. I wouldn't have understood the difference if someone just explained it to me, but feeling how Maverick let go compared to the way I did it just added to the description of him; soft.