Three Phantoms of You [bxb]

It's a Date

Nolan:

Fairy lights scintillate the street markets as they hang above us at this height. We're walking freely here on this side of town this late, where phantoms among people crowd each space with noise. And I'm here next to his.

I was still hesitating when Kiev asked me to hang out with him. I mean, what for? I already concluded that he probably hated me in this lifetime, yet he keeps giving me signals that it's the opposite.

He's never near pleased being with me, but he's withstanding time right now to spend it with me. I'm pissed. I know he probably asked me in doubt because he felt disturbed by those texts, and him looking at me the whole time says it all.

I need to know what he wants, and I need to know what's up with him.

"Can you stop staring at me for once?" I begin. "I'm starting to get the wrong idea."

There's nothing more but blankness in his eyes and repulsion in his figure. He says that he's good at hiding what he feels, yet he's never an expert at not showing his intention. I feel like I'm being watched more than him, and I think that's what he's trying to do.

He gives his ice cream another lick, keeping contact with all of me. "You don't know. I'm probably looking at you, thinking all the wrong ideas."

This bitch really knows how to change topics into dirtier ones. He's either trying to lead me on or just straight up distrating me to avoid talking to me about anything. If he keeps this up, there's no point in me finding a desolate to get him.

"Just stop," I say. Because honestly, I need to get my mind clear right now, and he's not giving me that clarity. My body is even fighting a trance just to hang out with him, and this is what he gives? "Why'd you even want to hang out all of a sudden? It's foolish."

"I wanted to know you more," he says, as if it's the easiest question ever.

I give him a slight smile, trying not to burst into thoughts and questions.

I thought you hated me.
Can we not fake it and fucking tell me what you want?
Why are you like this?

I want to know everything, because that's all I've ever learned about him. From back then 'til now. He's cold-hearted in love and inscrutable as a person, which makes it hard to read him in all ways. "Go on then, ask me things," I insisted.

You can tell how his body jerked uncomfortably from what I'm asking of him. He's not used to being the one in charge and would rather let others approach him than himself.

"Uhhh." He pushes with uncertainty. "Are you liking the ice cream? I think it tastes good, although I don't really like dark chocolate."

Are you fucking kidding me? One insistence, and all he can give me is a review of an ice cream. It doesn't even make sense that he doesn't like dark chocolate because they're both similarly bitter.

There was no use waiting for him to know me for decent if I allowed him. "Fine." I give up. "Why would you even bother to go here with me? I thought we hated each other."

He sighs, hearing those words of foretelling. For a moment, I could see a speck of openness in him. I think he'll show more every time I push him off guard. "You hated me," he retorts.

There's nothing more in his words, but he left me with those to think over. For real. Why doesn't he elaborate? That's probably why I'm always left asking for more.

"So?" I say, trying to not deny it.

"So, why do you?" Oh, now he's the one returning my question.

I continue to keep my eyes locked on his, analyzing for any change. Just a little. "I asked you first," I remind him.

His hand lingers on his ice cream, melting without a touch of his tongue. "I don't hate you. I'm just returning your hatred."

It doesn't make sense because I'm used to being loved in my world. Yet in his, I'm indifferent.

"You just never approach me the same way you approach others. You're easily nice to them, and somehow all you see of me is competition. It was never that serious, really. But you were consistent, so I always assumed that you hated me from the start," he continues.

I can sense how he's trying not to feel bad about it, yet he can't hide all his sincerity with those words coming out of his mouth.

I want to ask more questions. I want to know more, yet all that comes to mind are questions for myself. My living self. I never get to watch how he treats other people, let alone Kiev, since all phantoms aren't really destined to meet and spectate each other's phantoms. It's forbidden.

I'll never know unless he lets me in on that secret. Which would be the end of my ego if I ever ask. "I did." I didn't retaliate. It's better for my other self to resolve this than for me.

He looks at me with those hazel eyes and nothing more than resentment. "I know," he whispers under his breath, loud enough for my heart to hear.

We stayed there for a few minutes without exchanging any words of frankness, and we are just lost in our own psyche. I had no choice but to be silent so that I wouldn't come off as anything more than passive to him.

I can't hate him in this life if my other phantom already hates him here. He's one whom I already knew to be concealed, even as I met him.

"I'm happy you asked me out. At least I can have this with you," I say, jokingly lifting the half-cone I have eaten and smiling at him.

He chuckles lightly under his breath. "Why suddenly toast when I already ate all of mine?" he counters as he chews his last bite.

A notification lights up his phone, and my eyes squint their hardest to try and peek into it; however, Kiev didn't allow me and instead kept the message to himself. It's probably something unimportant because he didn't show any reaction.

"It's nothing. Don't bother," he says, sighing. Although I can only hope for it to actually be nothing, so that I won't budge into asking more.

I tried my best to sit in silence between us and just leave my happiness all over us in this scene. I want to open up, but I can't think of having a normal conversation with him unless we renounce this one first. Somehow, I want him to see me in another light other than as someone to hate, but rather as someone to be friends with. Fuck it if my phantom here protests against that.

"Do you want waffles?" I asked him as I stood from my seat. He nods, signaling to me that it's okay for me to go without him, and I walk my way to the stand, five shops across from us.

I try to look back at him to ease any feeling of heaviness within me. There are many temptations I try to restrict, and one of them is to somewhat make him happy.

"Two Belgian waffles, one with white chocolate, not dark, please." I request and wait for our order.