Chapter 8

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Currently I'm at work. I clean the floor with a broom. Since days I'm avoiding Timothe. Dara walks in the room. "Darling, have you seen that one vase? With the pink flowers on it." I gulp. "I-" I bite my lip.

Don't worry about things you can't change. It's like you want something back that you never had.

Doesn't make sense, does it? So, stop thinking about things you can't change and focus on the presence.

His words repeat in my head. I sigh and say confidently "I'm sorry. I accidently let it fall but I can buy a new one."

She looks surprised instead of mad. "It's okay. I have a lot of them in the storage room." I sigh in relief. A smile appears on her face, and she walks in the storage room to get that vase.

Hours later she walks out to get home, while I make some orders ready for tomorrow. When I want to grab my cardigan, I feel a hand on my shoulder. Dara should be home.

Oh, don't tell me it's him. I turn around.

Timothe.

"You've been avoiding me."

The cold and serious voice makes me shiver.

"No"

"No?"

"No."

He takes a step closer; I take a step back. "Is that all you have to say? A 'no'? seriously?"

I nod and cross my arms in front of my chest. It may sound confident, but I am everything but confident. I look away and he grabs my chin to make me look at him. "Why?" When he asked me that, I see the pain in his eyes. The ocean blue eyes I couldn't stop thinking of.

Guilt and regret rise. "I'm sorry." I whisper. "But it went too fast. I mean we just know us for 2 days and act like we're a couple for years."

"Tell me, little flower. Do you want us to be friends? Do you want to spend more time with me? Or do you want to stop everything that's happening?"

I look at him. First, I keep quiet and think. What do I want? I mean I don't have to love him. We can be and stay friends. "Can we start with being friends?"

He smiles. "Anything for you, little flower"

Four months later

Me and Timothe are having a great time. I would say we are like best friends already. Also, the job is getting easier each day. And my relationship with Dara is getting better. Right now, me and Timothe are on our favorite spot. The way beside the ocean. On our right are trees and on our left are stones before the ocean comes where I could literally jump down. But it is too dangerous, so we don't do that.

"That was far!" I laugh. We are throwing stones in the ocean to see who can throw the furthest. "Timothe, you must meet Dara. I'm sure you will love her!"

He clears his throat. "Hm, l think it's not really time for that, little flower. Wait a little bit longer, yeah?"

Biting my lip and nodding my head I agree. Since weeks I try to make them meet up, but it won't happen.

"Timmy, I should go now. I told Dara I will visit her when I arrive home." He nods and walks me to her. He never lets me walk back alone.

When we arrive, I give him a hug as goodbye and walk to her door.

Even though we're like best friends for a few months, my heart beats fast every time I see or feel his touch.

Dara opens the door after I knock, and I smile, getting in.

I hug her and sit on her rose couch. Her house was decorated white and rose.

"Darling, I saw you stressed with the house lately. Why didn't you ask for help? I can help you." I've been trying to clean and substitute some food with more healthier ones, since I can't sleep well for the past weeks. I thought if I eat healthier food, it could get better. "No, I'm fine, thank you."

She gives me a cup of nettle tea and sits down beside me. "And? How's going with that boy?"

She knows that Timothe was my best friend, but she doesn't know his name. He doesn't want to meet her yet, so I just talk about him but no name and no describing of his looks or something.

I blush at the thought of him. I clear my throat; "Uhm, well, we're good friends. He's always there for me but I find it weird that he always appears from nowhere whenever I feel bad. It's like he already knows when I feel good and when I don't. He comforts me always when I have small panic attacks. I have them a lot since I'm here, but I think that's only because I must get to know this place better."

Dara looks at me with sad and guilty eyes. Looking away and placing her hand on her lap while she speaks. "Yes, that could be the reason. So that mystery guy, do you love him?"

My eyes swift to hers. "Love is a strong word. But I don't know how love feels."

"How do you feel when you are with him?"

"Everything. I don't care what he wears. I care if he's with me. I feel free and warm when I'm with him. And whenever I'm without him I wish he was here. It's normal to feel like this about my best friend, right?" I say nervously, not wanting to accept the fact that there is a chance that I love him.

Dara laughs and nods. "Sure."

She smiles again. I know her guilt and regret in her eyes of earlier.

"We always talk about me. Now it's your turn." "But darling, I'm old. Nothing as exciting happens to me like it happens to you."

"Then tell me about your past. How was your relationship with my parents?"

Silence. Her gaze was down on her lap, and she takes a deep breath. "Not so good. I uhm, I don't want to tell you something that might hurt you."

"Just do it. Don't worry, you won't hurt me."

"So, I used to hear yells and shouts almost every day. And those yells came from your house. I wanted to check, but your parents didn't let me in and brushed it off. Nothing more." Her voice gets quieter.

Oh. But it's okay. I mean they were in an arranged marriage, they probably just needed to discuss something and it's normal to argue sometimes. Still, the thoughts spread in my head and my head starts to hurt. I sigh and get up. "I don't feel well. I should go home. We'll see us tomorrow, yeah?"

"Actually, we won't. Tomorrow, I have to go to an event with the other old people here. I wanted to ask if it would be okay for you, if you work alone tomorrow. Your best friend can come too."

I nod and wave at her before I walk out. I look at my house and walk to it. With each step, my head hurts more. My chest aches when I start to hear shouts.

My breath quickens and I just manage to walk inside. I sit down on the couch and look down on my hands which are shaking.

You're okay. You're okay. You're okay.

I take deep breaths as I try to calm down. Before, I could calm myself down but the panic attacks that happen lately I can't control.

"You're okay", I hear a deep voice beside me. Timothe.

"Timmy", I mumble and hug him. I don't even care how he gets inside my house. The only thing I care about is that he is here and doesn't leave me. He strokes my head, and, in his arms, I let everything out.

So long till I get tired of it and fall asleep in his arms.

The arms I feel the safest with.

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