PERMANENT - Leonardo DiCaprio

Chapter 44 - Moving Forward

Sunday 4.26pm (2 weeks later)

Leo's grip on my hand hadn't loosened as we walked along West Street, walking back and away from Battery Park, located at the southern tip of Manhattan. The baseball cap he had on was pushed down over his face so that he blended into the crowd, and his casual style allowed us to spend the day 'incognito', undetected by the busy New York streets.

The past week that we had been in New York, we had been staying in the St Regis on East 55th, which, to date, had been the most sophisticated place I had ever spent the night. Some interviews we did straight from the hotel, and some we travelled for, but one thing was for sure, New York was by far the most dazzling place we had been in since we left Santa Monica (though we hadn't been to California yet, that was our next and last destination, and obviously had a reputation for being overly glam).

"Come on," Leo tugged on my hand as we crossed the road to a towering apartment complex, hundreds of pristine large windows shimmering in the weak winter sun.

As we entered, the warm rush of air hit me strongly, and by what I could see, Leo too, as he took off his hat, smoothing out his hair and unzipping the top of his coat, as he greeted the doorman and the concierge on the corner at her desk.

I smiled at them politely, nodding my head as they eyed the two of us, hand in hand, as we got into the elevator. I unzipped my own coat too, only getting halfway as the zipper got stuck, where I stood huffing and puffing, trying to yank the caught material out. The elevator doors pinged shut and I sighed in annoyance at my unmoving zipper, but was pushed against the back mirror of the elevator with Leo's weight as his lips met mine in a passionate, unexpected kiss.

I smiled, pulling him closer by his collar, though it only added to the heat I was already feeling.

"I've been wanting to do that all day." He whispered as he pulled away, then leaning back to my lips.

"Those two out there," I interrupted, a little concerned, referring to the doorman and concierge, who watched us with beady eyes as we went past. "They won't think anything...you know..."

"Don't worry, I trust 'em." He replied simply, unbothered, returning back to our elevator make out session until the doors opened again.

We approached a door, a heavy set polished door with a smooth dark wood finish. Leo fiddled with a set of keys, then inserted them into the door, pushing it open once the little click indicated that it had unlocked.

I audibly drew my breath when I stepped inside, in complete awe of the inside of the apartment.

The door closed shut behind us. "Well this is it," he chuckled "my humble abode. Well, one of them. I have a smaller place in Palm Springs where I stay when I'm in Cali, but I'm thinking of letting that one go. You know, get a small apartment closer to Beverly Hills since Palm Springs is kinda off the grid."

He unzipped the rest of his coat, shrugging it off his shoulders, then arms, and placing it over the back of his enormous grey corner couch, which was littered with little cushions. I couldn't believe this was Leo's place - it was huge (though that part wasn't surprising), and impeccably tidy. The state he used to leave his hotel room in Rosarito led me to believe he had some extra help with his cleaning around here.

There were easily three floors in the apartment, floor to ceiling glass spread through two walls, with light flowing curtains draped back to reveal the city and the North Cove Yacht Harbour. On the dark wood floorboards sat a massive brown rug, which looked roughly the size of one of my rooms in my apartment in Santa Monica, and held the grey couch, a coffee table, and two armchairs, with an unusual wooden chaise off to the side, probably more for decoration than comfort. A spiral staircase wound its way up the side of the apartment to the very top floor, and I could only imagine what upstairs looked like.