Head in the clouds.

Chapter Thirteen.

Charlie and I ended up falling asleep on the sofa at about 2am. The conversation had run dry and yawns were flying everywhere, I insisted Charlie stay the night because I couldn't let her walk home alone at that hour and so we both crashed in front of the TV. I woke up hours later my head resting on the arm of the sofa and my legs slowly dropping onto the floor, my neck was starting to hurt. As I stretched out my arms trying to make the stinging sensation of blood loss leave them I noticed the blanket that was usually kept on the end of the bed was draped carefully over my body. I smiled biting my lip to stop myself from laughing and waking up Charlie who was blanket-less. I stood up and was hit with a wave of dizziness, why do I always have to stand up so fast? Once I was sure I wasn't going to pass out I placed the blanket on Charlie who sighed contently from the new found warmth. Mustering all my cat like stealth I snuck through my apartment to the bedroom not wanting to wake Cara if she was in fact home and sleeping, and if she wasn't home then I apparently have some really nice ghosts who care for my when I'm sleeping.

Cara was sitting in bed with her laptop balanced on her knees and head phones plugged in, the music leaked from them filling the room with a low base. She had changed from the outfit she was wearing earlier to some pyjama shorts and one of my oversized shirts; she looked so peaceful, blocked off from what was going on around her. I moved to sit next to her on the bed not looking at the computer in case she was doing something private. As I sat down she looked in my direction feeling my presence on the mattress. She smiled when our eyes met but it wasn't easy or natural it was weak and forced; I could feel a weight on my chest at her reaction to me. My instincts took over and carefully pulled the earphones from her and closed the laptop slightly so that she couldn't see the screen.

"Talk to me." I said simply, my voice broke slightly in between those three words, the very fact that I had to actually ask for her to speak struck something deep within me. I wanted so badly to touch her, but she looked so fragile. She moved the laptop from her lap and placed it on the bed between us; she then got up and walked out of the room without saying a word. She walked so calmly that anyone else would have thought she was completely at peace, but the way her hands were in fist said everything, she was pissed. I followed her out the room and into the kitchen. She was leaning with her palms on the counter. If it was any other day I would have hugged her from behind or tickled her but today the action would be out of place.

"So you're not going to say anything? I can see you're hurting but I don't know why because before this evening I thought we were fine. What changed for you? Just tell me!" I was becoming slightly annoyed, how could she just stand there and say nothing? How could she make me feel this helpless about everything all at once? When she still refused to communicate I lost it.

"I let you leave this evening, I talked to Charlie instead of you, and I slept next to her. Don't you mind?" I was striking at nerves. Any reaction was better than none, even if it ended up being a slap to the face. Her hands dropped from the kitchen counter and she turned around to face me, her face void of any emotion at all. I was nervous, all I could feel was the weightless impending doom that was about to come.

"Why do you keep talking?" She asked plainly, her eyes never leaving mine. Something about the way she said it reminded me of how my teachers used to tell me off in school, their voices low and disappointed. I suddenly felt so small as if everything that was happening was crushing me into the earth, pushing me down lower and lower until I was nothing but dust.

"Why can't you just shut up?" Her voice was quiet and her words pointed. Her body still looked calm but her eyes were becoming wet, small delicate tears dropped from the side of her wide blue eyes like an ocean flowing into a river. My mouth was now glued shut; I wouldn't say anything until she asked me to, our roles now reversed. My footsteps echoed around the room as I took slow steps towards, I couldn't stop myself from brushing away the tears that balanced on her cheeks with the pad of my thumb, I made the touch light desperately hoping she wouldn't move away. She didn't. My hand lingered near her face as she closed her eyes and moved her head for more contact.

We stayed like that for a while, her tears falling and I then stopped each one. Each tear lasted a second, the silence stayed longer. A imaginary clock within my head ticked with each passing moment becoming impossibly loud. My head started to throb and just as the ticking became the harsh beating of a drum Cara pressed her lips to mine lightly like the touch of my fingers on her face. Every movement was slow and deliberate.

"I don't mind." She whispered against my lips. The clock stopped. My hand slipped from her face to her waist bringing her body into mine. The ghost of the kiss to my neck from earlier vanished when her tong danced over the spot and her lips pressed firmly against my skin.

Charlie could be heard turning on the TV in the living room, the voices boomed and she fumbled for the volume control but it was too late.

"Can you believe it?" The reporter asked shocked. "Just a couple of hours ago Miss Cara Delevingne was spotter kissing what we have had confirmed is her new boyfriend. I'm as shocked as you are!" I froze.

"Believe me mister reporter man; no one is as shocked as I." I thought. Charlie's gasp was audible from the kitchen along with the switching off of the TV. Even with the warning that Cara would be 'faking' it still hurt like hell. I moved with a swift quickness into the living room. 

"Charlie, do you want to come with me?" She didn't even reply she just got up and made her way over to the door with me following closely behind. The numbness of my body felt familiar and unwanted but I couldn't stop it. My relationship with Cara had turned into some twisted game, like the continuous pausing and playing of a DVD, until the disk becomes scratched and unreadable.

"Its all too much." I thought "I want her, but I don't think I want this anymore."