Hearts We Mend To Break (Book I)

.67.

💫ANGEL💫

The ride to the store was silent. The lack of conversation or emotion, even, made the air fog with uncertainty. Unsure of the right things to say or do, I sat still, frozen in my seat, trying my hardest to keep things peaceful. Finally, Giselle turned on the radio. After scheming through a few stations, all there was on every channel was commercials. Deep down, I remember thinking, see God wants us to talk about this. This was a sign speak my peace. But I didn't. I didn't want to upset or offend her any further.

"What kind of drink do you want?" I finally asked, after Giselle parked in front of the store.

"Tequila." A hushed response.

"Okay. I'll be back."

I hopped out of the car faster than I normally would, ready to escape the thick air that had me trapped inside, breathless and in shock. Once I was out in the night air, I took a deep breath and made my way inside. I picked up two bottles of tequila and red bull as a chaser. Not wanting to take up too much time, I grabbed a few bags of chips, cheese dip, and, in an effort to make the trip quick, I quickly returned to the stale car to face Giselle. Without saying a word, she popped open a bottle and gulped down a generous amount of alcohol.

"Um..." Questioning her behavior, I just watched her for a moment.

"Take a shot, Angel. Don't be a Debbie downer." She teased.

So I did as she asked, gulping down about twice as much as she did. Once I was done, she took down more, and pulled out of the parking spot. The drive back to my place wasn't as quiet as before. She hummed along to Billie Eillish's Bad Guy, bouncing as the beat strummed through our veins. Not much of a fan, I remained silent.
"Can we sit out in the car for a while?" Giselle asked, placing the car in park and turning to face me.

"Really? I thought you wanted to party.

"I scared to stand up." She giggled. "I think I'm tipsy already."

"Well, I'll just carry you, duh." I laughed, jumping out of car immediately, and running over to open her door. "Get the bags." I commanded, picking her up and cradling her in my arms.

Giselle screamed and laughed, as she held on to the drinks and snacks for dear life. I ran at times, twirling her around in circles, and scaring the shit out of her the whole way up to my door. Once we made it to the door, she used the keys to unlock the door and I ran in and threw her down on the couch.

"Oh my God!" She laughed, face plum and sweaty. "Okay, turn on the music."

"I don't think we have the same taste in music. There's a speaker in my room. You can connect your phone, come on."

The walk towards my room felt long as fuck. I couldn't believe I'd just invited her into my room. No woman had the pleasure of entering and spending time in there. V stood in there for a brief moment the first day I met her, but never long enough to get a full view of the privacy that those four walls provided for me. I never understood why I was so protective of that space, or if it even made sense to feel so much security in something as simple as a bedroom. But it was what it was and I felt how I felt.

I opened the door slowly, after wiping my sweaty palms across the smooth fabric of my sweat pants. Flipping on the light, I turned to her, waiting for to finish scanning every inch of the room. I wondered what she thought? Did the family photo-less, basic décor, color coded appearance tell her everything she needed to know about me? Did the emptiness of these four wall provide all the tell-tales of my inner most thoughts? At least, that's how I always saw it. Let a woman in your room and you invite her into your darkest corners, becoming vulnerable and defenseless. But, truth be told, I didn't mind being vulnerable in front of Giselle. I didn't mind letting her in and allowing her to know everything that made me, Angel.