Chim - Sleeping With A Broken Heart

CHAPTER 5

Kimberley's POV

I stared at her. Close to she was almost painfully beautiful, her hair was long and perfectly glossy, tumbling down her back almost down to her tiny waist. Her skin was flawless and glowed in the golden streetlamps. Her eyes were a deep chocolate brown, lined with the longest, darkest eyelashes that I had ever seen. 

“Can we talk?” she said quietly.

My heart did a back flip. What the hell was she doing there? I wanted to scream at her, tell her to leave me, tell her to get as far away as possible. I wanted to tell her that I didn’t give a toss about her or what she wanted to talk about. But I didn’t. I tried to keep my voice calm as I replied “yeah. Okay.” 

She looked around, taking in the bins and the graffiti on the wall. “Not here.” She begun to walk away from me, down the alley towards the street.

“Cheryl!” I called after her, “I need on be back on stage in like five minutes! Can’t this wait?”

She turned around and slowly approached me, raising a hand to my face. I flinched away as if she were going to hit me, but she seemed not to notice.  She softly stroked my cheek, her hand gentle, caressing. She moved closer to me and her eyes, barely inches from my own, filled with tears as she looked deep into my eyes, sending shivers down my spine. She opened her mouth and for one crazy, terrifying, amazing moment I thought that she was going to kiss me. 

“I will never,” she said seriously, “let you go back into that fcuking club again. I promise.” Her voice shook slightly, and I wondered if she was going to cry. I wanted to hug her so, so close, tell her that everything was going to be okay and never, ever let her go.

But I didn’t. I let her hold my hand tight in hers as she led me down the alley that led to the main street. I let her look around carefully before half dragging me down the road. I let her pull me into an expensive looking wine bar. “Go upstairs, I’ll get drinks.” She said, and I did as I was told. There was something about her that made it hard to argue. And I wanted to hear what she had to say, because when Cheryl bloody Cole wants to talk to you, you shut up and listen. 

I walked up a black wrought iron spiral staircase that had white fairy lights wrapped around the banister. The walls were bare brick and decorated here and there with pages of adverts ripped out of old magazines and photographs of small children and smiling lovers, all in black and white, their faces blurred.  

The room upstairs was huge, filled with stools and high tables. The walls were still naked bricks and one of the walls was made entirely of glass, so that I could see all the way out to the river, Victoria Embankment and the London eye.  I sat down on a stool next to the window and rested my head on the cold glass, my breath steaming up the surface. My heart pounded and my hands shook. What did she want to talk about? Why was she here? For a moment I wondered if she knew...but she wouldn’t be here if she did. She would be as far away from me as possible. Anyway, how could she know? No. She didn’t know anything. ‘Calm down’ I told myself over and over. I had to stay cool. 

A few moments later she returned, high heels clinking on the iron staircase. She carried a bottle of wine and two glasses, and smiled when she saw me. God, that smile was far, far too beautiful for words. 

“Hey pet” she said softly once she had say down and poured herself a glass of wine. “Do you want some?”I smiled at her “what?” she asked self-consciously.

“I thought that you were going to lecture me. But instead you’re going to encourage me to drink?”

“Oh yeah. You’re only seventeen...” she hesitated, and I reached for the bottle, pouring myself a glass.