ALANA'S MISTAKE ✔

Chapter 7

Alana and Elias occupied a small booth at the back of a dark pub that had wooden beams along the low ceilings. The seat was curved and leather, with a small round table made out of oak in the middle. By now it was dark outside and a fire roared and crackled right next to their booth, casting warm, dancing light across their faces. They both had drinks in front of them, Elias had whiskey and Alana had gin and tonic, topped with a slice of lemon.

She played with the thin straw in her drink between her fingers, twiddling and twisting it constantly, as they chatted and laughed. When they had first met, outside the art college and gone to eat, they had discussed what Alana could do for the stage design. Elias talked passionately about his vision and how her visuals could 'tip them over the edge' in terms of their aesthetic. He kept saying how well it would work, how there was a 'synergy' between what he did and what she did.

She nodded along with all he said and was astonished and excited to think of her work being shown in such a cool way. Her mind buzzed with ideas and they talked excitedly about what was possible. She was right about him, he did get her work, he totally got it.

She hardly had a chance to think before they ended up in the nearby pub. Elias sat close, not actually touching, but close enough to feel like he was, or he might be just about to. Close enough for Alana to feel a strange kind of ache all over. Everything she said, no matter what it was, he listened to her, as though she were telling him the most fascinating thing he had ever heard in his life.

She didn't quite understand why he was so intently interested and it kind of intoxicated her. The fact that she had already drank four double gin and tonics and hadn't eaten very much falafel didn't help. She had been too nervous to eat, her tummy was filled with too many butterflies.

There were a few other people in the pub, a spattering of couples and groups of friends at the bar and in the nearby booths but they might as well have not existed for all the attention Elias paid to them. It was as though an invisible bubble had formed around them. He made her feel like she was the only girl left on earth.

They talked non-stop, about her work, his work, music, art, all the things Alana loved to talk about and all the while she swore he kept getting closer to her. He would get up to go to the bar and return with more drinks, then end up a little closer still. Before long Alana was steeped in a gin and tonic haze again, which made everything seem even more dreamlike than it already did.

Elias kept holding his glass with both hands and gently running his finger along the rim. His hair tumbled over his face and his cheeks glowed more with every whiskey, he smiled more too and threw his head back sometimes when he laughed. He took hold of a beer mat and balanced it on his finger, before turning his big brown eyes on her.

'You can feel it, right?' he said, his eyes half closing.

She looked at him.

'What I mean is, I'm not imagining this? It's not just me that feels this way?'

'What way?' she said, quietly.

'Like we've know each other for much longer than a few days.'

She looked at him, her eyes heavy, then turned her gaze away, towards her glass. She ought to walk out of this pub right now. She ought to walk out and never look back.

He touched her hand lightly, enough to send delicious waves of sensation along her arm that spread across her whole body.

'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I just...'

His eyelashes brushed the tops of his cheeks as he looked at his hand still on hers. Alana felt like she was a million miles from real life. The room spun, ever so slightly.

'Let's go,' he said. 'Come home with me. You don't need to do anything, just come with me.'

There was still a part of her - telling her to leave, to go home. But her body wasn't listening. She felt like she were being pulled by invisible strings. They fell out onto the street and soon enough they were in a taxi, saying little but catching each other's gaze. As the taxi came to a stop on his street he whispered into her ear.

'There's not much we can do about this.'

By the time they got through the door of his flat it really did feel like there was nothing she could do about it. There were no thoughts, just the intense pull of energy between them. She dropped her handbag to the floor and he slid his hands underneath her hair. They fell back against the door and he looked into her eyes, then kissed her, his lips hot and sweet. In that moment she was lost; lost to the world and lost to herself. All there was, was his skin against hers and the feeling of his hands along her hair, her shoulders, her back.