Romanticismo Per Caso ❤

Parties (Elias POV)

The airport was alive with activity as my flight touched down.  The sound of Swedish filled the air, and most people were searching the crowds of people for their loved ones, eager for a warm embrace.  I was not one of those people.

No family members were awaiting my arrival because I did not tell anyone besides my mother.  I was heading to a party tonight to see one of my best friends.  He texted me while I was on the plane, eager for my company.  He was a childhood friend, and I was genuinely looking forward to seeing him.

The airport radiated a cheerful atmosphere, with people relieved to be on solid ground.  Turbulence affected our flight greatly, which made people uneasy.   Thankfully, the landing was smooth.  I had no intention of buying overpriced airport food, so I hurried out to find my own way.

My new house is in a suburban neighborhood, with a city nearby.  It would take me awhile to get to my friend Leo's house tonight, but I will be patient. 

A part of me wondered if Lorena had moved on.  Was she still trying to get over me?  Better yet, had I gotten over her?

I still didn't know the answer to that question. 

I rushed to find a taxi.  It didn't take long, but I had a few encounters.  One angry Swedish woman was walking her dog, and the dog sniffed my leg for a moment.  She muttered something under her breath when I just stood there, not trying to get the dog off of me.  Little did she know, I understood her.  Rude. 

In the taxi, the driver curtly asked where I was going, and the road trip was silent.  I spent most of the ride on my phone, trying to reconnect with some friends and family.  I debated whether or not to tell my father I was in Sweden.  Maybe I should surprise him tomorrow at the company building. 

When I finally found my place, I took a moment to enjoy its solitude. It was spotless, clear of any segment of dust or dirt.  In fact, it was almost sparkling.  The previous owner must have kept it in a top-notch shape. 

Somehow, it all felt different.  Maybe moving was the start of a new beginning now that I was here.  Yes, I had been to Sweden many times, but being back felt good.

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It was about time to leave for my friend's party.  "You could still say no if you wanted, Elias," I told myself, but quickly dismissed the thought.  My headspace was somewhat better now that I was away from Wysandale, but not perfect.  Someone or something was missing.

"Hey Elias!" Leo welcomed me.  His mansion was enormous, and I remembered how his parents were rich yet too controlling.  They must have handed this place to him after some heated arguments and possibly blackmail.

Seeing him open the door brought back some personal memories.  As children, we helped each other get through our problems by venting, providing support, and communicating.  By late teens, we did foolish things like partying and running away from home when our parents didn't notice.  My parents rarely noticed, Nils was starting to be independent, and I barely slept due to my insomnia anyway.

"Come on in," Leo's voice said, snapping me out of my thoughts.  I laughed as he patted me on the back.  "How have you been?" He held a red solo cup in his hand, clearly drinking some alcohol. 

"I've been good, but I could be better."  I looked at his cup.  "What are you drinking?"  

He chuckled and smirked.  "One of the best drinks in Sweden." He nudged me.  "You want some?"  

"I'm good, man. I'm not trying to drink tonight."  I peered inside of his house.  I outgrew drinking a long time ago and I intended to not get back into that habit. "We were more troublesome in youth.  No fun."  He took a sip and ran off when someone shouted, "CANNONBALL!" 

The house was vast, with a grand staircase leading upstairs. Marble tiles with golden trim marked the kitchen counters, and there was a fancy bar and a disco room.  Yes, a disco room.

I saw some women at the bar.  Most looked completely hungover already, which was not ideal for 9 pm. This was a bad idea, Elias.  In just a few moments, I saw a woman rush to the bathroom with her hand over her mouth.  Without a doubt, she was puking.  Maybe I should ditch.  He's too tipsy to care anyway. 

"Hello," a strange blonde said, tapping my arm, getting me out of my thoughts.  "Hello," I responded, a hint of annoyance reflecting in my voice.  

The woman was pretty, but nothing like the woman I had left behind.  

"You look like you desperately want to leave."  She laughed, a gleam in her eye. 

 "Yeah, I might want to leave.  But I should at least stay here for a little longer.  I haven't seen Leo in a while."  I walked over to a custom-built water fountain that was installed.  I filled my cup as she continued to talk to me.  

"Oh, I'm friends with Leo too.  What's your name?  I feel like I might have seen you around."  

Oh geez, this woman was hitting on me.  

"I can assure you that you have not seen me, but I'm Elias."  I smiled and attempted to walk away.  

But before I could even process what was happening, her hand closed around my arm.  In that fleeting, simple touch, a flood of memories engulfed me like a crashing wave.  Lorena's face materialized in my mind, each tender moment we shared etched vividly in my memory.  The park, times at the restaurant, and simple conversations.  Her touch, so gentle yet so electrifying, resonated through my veins, reminding me of the completeness I felt in her presence.

"You don't want to be impolite and forget to ask my name," she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't you?"  

"Fine, what's your name?" I managed to utter, my voice betraying my inner turmoil raging within me.

She smiled, a blush tainting her cheeks and making them a delicate hue.  "It's Catherine."  With a graceful flick of her blonde hair, she shed off her jacket, placed it on a side table, and revealed a stunning red dress that paled in comparison to Lorena's beauty.

Catherine.  The name hung in the air, but deep down in my heart, only Lorena's name resonated with true beauty and spirit.

"Catherine's pretty,"  I managed to say, my words hollow compared to the truth in my heart.  Lorena was beyond pretty; she was the epitome of beauty, the one my heart desired and wanted to tame.

The only one to embrace, to shelter, and to call my own.

"Would you like to go slow dance over there with me?" She turned and pointed to the dance floor adjacent to us in another room.

"Sure," I agreed, though every part of my being screamed against it.  I was caught in a mixture of confusion, uncertain why I was engaging in this charade when all that I wanted, no, needed,  was to be with Lorena.

"Bye, Catherine. I must leave," I bluntly abrupted, rushing to the doors of the building.

Was I just about to dance with another woman who wasn't Lorena?

And why did every step away from her feel like a betrayal of the intense love that still burned within me?

I mean, she betrayed me!

I can't take it anymore.