From london to Istanbul/Kenan Yildiz

Part 4 the truth

KENAN YILDIZ'S POV

We were on a very crowded street, but Taksim was mostly full of tourists. For the first time in my life, I was a bit afraid that people would recognize me. I usually enjoy talking with my fans and taking pictures with them, but not today—not now, when I was holding the hand of this unknown girl who somehow felt so familiar. I knew my behavior must have seemed strange to Amelia, but it was better for both of us right now. I wasn't afraid of people seeing me with her; I was afraid of her reaction, of what she might think. Amelia's rich imagination made me smile. I was glad she didn't try to pull her hand away from mine; I wanted to hold her soft hand for as long as possible. I noticed she wore a ring with a gold crescent moon and star, adorned with a brilliant stone. It suited her perfectly and pleased me, as my surname, Yildiz, means star in English. Who gave her that ring? No, I can't be jealous; we just met, but it was already complicated not to hear her talking.

"Which cafe are we going to?" she asked me.

I didn't want something crowded, but luckily, I knew a quieter place near Taksim.

"To my favorite place."

"Where you're going to answer my questions? Not just about football, Kenan?" Amelia asked me, her curiosity piqued.

"Fine, Amelia, I'll answer your questions too. Deal?"

"Yeah, but actually it's not a deal; it's just a usual conversation between two people, strangers, huh?" She smirked, looking at our hands and then into my eyes. I didn't want this moment to end.

"Yes, Ams, it is... how do you call it? A date?" I couldn't resist teasing her. She was definitely processing my words or thinking of a way to tease me back.

"Already Ams? And we... mhm, IT IS NOT A DATE, Kenan! It's just a coffee talk, like friends, okay?"

As Amelia said this, she tried to pull her hand away, and I stopped walking.

"Heyyy, it was just a joke, and as you mentioned, if we're like friends, can I call you Ams?"

She rolled her eyes at me, and I couldn't help but laugh because she was so cute, especially with her hair flying funnily in the wind.

"Fine, Kenancim, then you will be Kenancim now."

I didn't show it, but I was bursting inside from her calling me Kenancim, which in Turkish means "my Kenan" or is just a gentle term of endearment.

We were already on Istiklal Street, much calmer than Taksim.

AMELIA'S POV:

As we turned onto that street, I realized where we were. Before Kenan bumped into me, I had been sitting in one of the cafes here, and I really liked it. I thought it was my favorite cafe in Istanbul. If Kenan was taking me to that cafe, then it might be a sign for me—at least, we could be friends.

As we reached the cafe, I accidentally pulled our hands and said, "Kenan, is this your favorite place, this cafe?"

"Yeah. You don't like it? Are you uncomfortable? We can go somewhere else if you want."

I saw that Kenan was literally very worried; his brows furrowed, and he was ready to pull me and run to another place.

"No, no! It's great. Actually, I think now we have more things in common," I said with a smirk. He raised his eyebrow but relaxed after hearing my words.

"Just, Kenan, it's a funny story. Before you bumped into me, I was in THIS cafe, and I really liked it and thought it might be my favorite."

He laughed, and so did I. We stood in front of the cafe, now holding both of my hands, and we didn't care about others. We must have looked strange.