• Tomorrow Will Be Different • {J.C} (P.1)

• Chapter Twenty-One •

Julian gave Albert's door two light taps before barging in. He suddenly froze in the doorway once he saw Erin in the room instead.

Her back was to him; she was wearing a long, fairy mesh dress—sleeveless and earthy green. There was a black floral print on the sheer double layering—the fabric clinging tightly to her narrow waist.

"Sorry." Jules murmured. He started back out of the room, then peeked his head in again.
"You know where Al is?"

"No."

"Where're you goin?" Julian asked as he pushed open the door a little wider, watching as she struggled with the back of her earring. He held the knob, bracing his other hand into the doorframe as he leaned into Al's room, waiting for Erin to speak.

He was curious to know where she was going. Judging by the looks of it, Erin had a date. Julian would never admit it, but the thought made him anxious.

"Out." Erin said, managing to finally clip the studded back to her teardrop earring. She turned around, grabbing her black wool cardigan off Albert's bed.

"Where?"

"Why do you care?" Erin laughed softly; though perhaps she said it a little too harshly.

"How long are you gonna be gone?—You need a key?" Julian hoped Erin planned to be back—he hoped that she needed his key. If not, that meant only one other alternative—Erin had plans to sleep over...
        ...wherever she was going.

"No, but thanks."

"Need a ride?"

"No, I already have one." Erin spoke as she placed her arm inside the sleeve of the cable knitted shrug. She walked by him, as if he weren't even there.

Julian followed her out of the room, giving her several feet of space. He watched as she searched the room for her purse.

She had finally found it, but her eyes were still roaming the room, as if still searching.

"Have you seen my keys?" Erin asked; her eyes finally wavering to Julian—she was looking at him.

Her eyes were pale brown, but the deep purple shimmery eyeshadow brimming her lower lash line made her eyes appear green—almost the same earthy color as her dress.

Her thick lashes were black and lengthy; her hazel-like irises big and round—centered perfectly in her almond shaped eyes. Her glossy lips were nude—a slight glimmer that would catch the light occasionally if she moved a certain way.
...Erin was pretty.

Julian cleared his throat before shaking his head in denial. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, moving his eyes toward the floor.

Jules knew where Erin's keys were—but Erin didn't have to know that.

"It's fine, I don't need them anyway." Erin spoke mostly to herself as she started toward the door.

"Be safe." Julian muttered low.

"I always am." Erin reassured.

"Make sure he wears a condom." A smug smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth; his eyes full of taunting torment as he opened the apartment door, letting Erin out.

She flashed Julian a snarl, along with narrowed eyes; the vexation in her expression warning him not to say another word.

He hoped that Erin would deny it; that she would elaborate and explain that he had the wrong idea—that it wasn't a date—it was simply a job interview—something, (anything) other than being courted.

Julian followed Erin outside, pulling out a soft pack of Marlboro reds from his pocket. He placed a cigarette between his lips, patting his pants for a light.

"What are you doing?" Erin asked.

"Getting ready to smoke." Julian spoke with the cigarette hanging from his lips—his eyes squinting at the contrast change from indoor to outdoor lighting.

Erin huffed; she started down the steps, making her way down the sidewalk. Julian ignited the fag from his lips, taking a seat on the bottom step.

      He kept his eyes on Erin, watching her until she made it to the end of the street, just a little ways up the road. In spite of the sea of people Erin walked through, she still managed to stand out.

The cognitive dissonance Julian struggled to comprehend was becoming apparent; no longer was he able to dismiss his own bizarre, emotional response to everything that girl did—or didn't do.

Julian felt something—though he wasn't sure what that something was, he couldn't deny that it was something.

       It started at the bar, then when he kissed her. It transcended from there; when she didn't show up to their gig—when she locked eyes with him coming out of his bedroom with a random girl—when he had heard the awful things she had said about herself the day he took her to work.

Erin either seemed cold or indifferent to him; however, he couldn't help but to catch glimpses of something lurking just behind her eyes—something heedful and caring. It were those moments, when she would actually look at him—instead of looking through him—that Julian felt that 'something.'

Perhaps it was a bridled sexual tension—maybe it was a secretly unkempt infatuation.
Whatever the fuck it was, it was driving Julian insane.

Erin hadn't reacted the way he thought she would upon apologizing for the night he kissed—she hadn't really reacted at all. Because of Erin's response, (or lack there of) it diminished the uneasiness of the topic, provoking him to admit something he never thought he would again—at least not while sober.

Julian looked back up the street when hearing the sound of a car horn. One honk turned into two horns blaring as a white Honda Accord came to a stop at the end of the street.

He watched as Erin climbed into the passenger side; the car then taking off again.

Taking another drag from his cigarette, Julian stood from the step—making his way back inside the apartment.