Red Shoes, Black Coffee (Red & Black #2)

12 | Never you

Jed

Staring into Ada's eyes, I'm thrown back to the last time I've seen them so wide. It was an evening about a year and a half ago, when I visited Ada's house for the first time when Mom and I were invited to dinner. The two of us stepped out onto the patio after she, - unwillingly, - led me out to get some fresh air. I did it on all on purpose, wanting to break free from her parents and my Mom and steal a moment alone. I almost kissed her back then.

My blood boils when I take in our current situation. It is, in a way, similar to that night. Only instead of being pressed against a wall, Ada's back is glued to my front, with my arms still caging her in, my palms lying flat against the door on both sides of her hips. Her neck is craned as she gazes at me, her golden eyes locked with mine. She looks terrified by the news I just broke to her and also a little bit desperate, most likely to escape.

And me?

I'm torn.

Because I, too, want her out. So badly. I want her out through this door and never coming back because I don't trust myself enough to keep her here. I don't know what I'll do if she keeps standing so close, smelling of dark chocolate and being so real that after fifteen months of thinking I'd never see, - leave alone touch, - her again, it seems almost impossible. I can't think of a single reason why my hands should stay pressed to the door instead of wrapping around her waist and tugging her into me like I want to. And I want to. So much.

I want to put my arms around her and just hold her and don't let go until I know she's not going to go anywhere, that she's going to stay here with me, forever.

Hold her until I can call her mine again.

"I need to get to classes." Ada's voice breaks through the haze surrounding my brain. It's quiet but ir reverberates through my head like thunder. Considering it a sign to start thinking clearly, I sigh softly and push off the door, giving her space. My mind instantly clears and the more distance I get between us, the fainter her scent gets, the more coherent my thoughts get.

"I'll drive you once we get out." I promise her. Then I pause for a moment, searching for things to say. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." Ada shrugs. She looks so awkward standing there, almost pressed into the door that I back off a little and enter the living room. I then hover aside, waiting for her to step further into the studio, giving her space. After a moment of hesitation, Ada takes the silent invitation and follows me. Instead of entering the living room like I did, she hovers on the verge where my kitchenette ends and the main room begins. I notice she likes leaning on things because she plasters her back to the white pillar separating the kitchen from the rest of the studio and stays there. My eyes drop the where her hands are folded tightly around her midsection and something deep inside me breaks at the sight.

I know this gesture. It's an old habit of hers, one she often performed at the begining of our aqcuiantance whenever she felt nervous or uncomfrotable around me. Which, back then, meant a lot. It took a lot of time and effort on my side to finally get her to stop doing this while she was with me. Now she's standing in front of me, hugging herself once more, and I can't help but think we're back to the start.

I steal a quick glane at my watch. Eight minutess have passed. I sigh.

If time is going to stand still for longer, then we can at least make a good use of it. Putting on a gentle smile I remind myself that it is, indeed, my apartment we're locked in and that I can as well start acting like a proper host.

"Would you like something to drink?" I ask her.

The look on Ada's face makes me wonder whether I failed and asked her to make out on the kitchen counter instead. It's one between fear and surprise and I don't know what it is I did now. My heart deflates a little when she shook her head no.