Saving Athiya

SIX

ATHIYA

Warm rays of the early morning hit my face, warming my skin and chasing the residue of yet another nightmare away. It has been two weeks since Aaron came to dinner at my house. It has been two weeks since I made a complete and utter fool of myself.

The day after the dinner, I discovered that his bedroom was right in front of my room. The structure of his room had a very accurate resemblance to mine except for the fact that instead of floor-to-ceiling window panels, one part of his room extended towards mine like a side patio made from glass.

The best part of it all was that I could stare into his room when he wasn't aware. If that made me a stalker, then I guess I am a stalker now. The worst part was that I couldn't explain why my eyes would gravitate towards his room. It felt as if my brain was trying to catch a glimpse of him.

In the last two weeks, I would diligently sit in front of my window for hours and just stare in his direction. Sometimes I would be sketching in my book and other times, I would have my headphones on with my eyes glued to his little glass room.

Every time I caught a glimpse of him, my chest would hurt, and my stomach would tickle. This foreign feeling would intensify every time I saw him shirtless. I guess I am attracted to him. I thought. What else could it be?

By now, I knew his schedule by heart. He woke up at 4 in the morning, unhappily might I add. Then, he would spend about 20 minutes in the bathroom. My stomach would start tickling as soon as he came in my line of vision when he exited his bathroom in a towel. My eyes following the water droplets sliding down his torso.

Then...then, he would disappear in his closet, unfortunately, and come out with his clothes back on. Usually, his wardrobe consisted of black jeans, light colored t-shirt with his dark leather jacket and his high tops.

After getting dressed, he wore his watch followed by playing with his hair until he liked what he saw. Then, he would turn my way and that is when I would pretend to draw or look busy so that he doesn't catching me staring at him.

When I would look back up, he would be gone and soon after, his car would start up and then silence. At around 3 in the afternoon, his garage door would open and a few seconds later, he would enter his room and flop down on his bed.

Then at 8, he would leave his room to eat, I guess, then come and remove his clothes. Go to his bathroom. Come back to lay down on his bed and sleep. And the routine would repeat itself the next morning and the morning after that and so on.

Today was like any other day...except it wasn't.

Instead of leaving his room after getting dressed for the day, he looked my way. No. Stared my way. Stared at me. My eyes widened in shock of being caught red-handed. I quickly ducked my head down, staring at my lap.

My head snapped back up when I heard tapping on glass. Aaron's hand was tapping at my window. My window! How? I looked behind him and saw that the glass wall had split in half, like a sliding door.

I shifted my gaze at him and saw him beckoning me with his hands. Hesitantly, I got up and faced him. My face mere centimeters away from the window. I was standing so close to him, yet I was so far away.

Raising my right hand, I rested it on the window. He copied my action and brought his left hand to cover mine. I brought my other hand to rub my chest to ease the pinching marathon going on inside. My stomach was no better. Flip-flopping like waves on a full moon.

Suddenly, a nauseous feeling settled over me. Removing my hand from the window, I covered my mouth as I started dry heaving. It was getting difficult to breathe. My eyes moved to his, hearing frantic knocking on glass.