He hasn’t seen her for eighteen months. Now he’s watching her and is trying to understand how on Earth was he able to live without seeing her. Eighteen freaking months! Eighteen months which he spent with that other girl… what’s her name again? …. No idea, his memory went completely blank, and he doesn’t remember anymore. Will they think he’s mental if he turns and asks now for her name? They’ll call an ambulance for sure. To hell with the ambulance, he’s almost a qualified doctor himself, he’s quite capable of giving himself a diagnosis – a temporal cardiac arrest, a short-term coma followed by a non-stop tachycardia, dilated irises and a wild look on his face to crown it all. Oh, f*ck, what a sight he is now!
And still it feels so weird that with all those people around him he can see just her and nobody else. Here she is – reaching out her hand with a glass of champagne to clink it with some other girl’s glass, and now she’s sitting on a wide window sill with her beautiful long legs crossed at the ankles and is chattering away with Misha, and now she’s tousled his hair playfully (sh*t, can everybody see now how his brain is smoking with rage and jealousy? Somebody, anybody, bring a fire extinguisher before it’s too late for me!)…
By the way while he’s sitting there frozen and mortified everybody there is having a party and drinking happily, proposing toasts to him and that other girl…so what was her name?....oh, Lana…yeah, right, now it’s coming back to him. They’ve been together for two years now, and today’s their second anniversary, so Lana decided to make it a big occasion, now surely there’s a bunch of friends here who came to consume all the alcohol in the house and to shout their congrats to the couple. They even brought those crazy little things as present – silly stuffed toys, stupid pictures; he even saw a coffee set and some horrible looking vase. She brought them a bunch of colourful balloons, all in the shape of hearts.
The party started at 7 p.m., everybody arrived on time…. Everybody but her.
By 8 o’clock he’s grown so anxious that he rushed outside panicking that she couldn’t find their house, or their apartment, or she got lost… the neighbourhood wasn’t particularly nasty but it was already dark outside and who knows, what if there was some trouble… So he went to meet her, dashed downstairs, opened the front door and froze at the doorstep, blocking the way in and out, feeling his very own heart skip a bit, then stop altogether. That poor heart of his took a little while and resumed its beating, but such things are difficult to ignore, he was paralysed with emotions, he was drowning and pleading for something to show mercy and save him. And all she did was laugh. She informed him that he looked like a prize idiot and it was bound to have something to do with all those years spent in captivity. She was laughing in the elevator, she was all smiles when she handed them the heart-shaped balloons. Everybody in the room was roaring with laughter at her story about how she spent hours looking for the balloons she wanted, and when she finally did find them, the shop assistant was reluctant to fill the balloons with helium, as he was already closing and so she had to trade her phone number to get what she wanted. So, basically, that was the reason she was so late, and she was sorry, but if they could please, please, please forgive her, she’d feel happy and rewarded.
She was immediately rewarded with a glass of ice-cold champagne. He didn’t like the idea of a cold glass in her hand, he remembered too well how she was shivering with cold when she just got inside. It was so typically her, not to think that it’s very likely to be cold in the winter night in the middle of January. “Butt off, at least I’ve got some colour now, I hate it to be pale as a ghost all the time” – she laughed at him. “I see your point, what I don’t get is why would you choose colour blue as your new complexion?” – he teased. She pouted, “Speaking of colours, would you like to share which impressionist in particular inspired you to this choice of a tie to this dress shirt?” The nerve that girl’s got! What wouldn’t he give that instant to be able to hold her, to feel how she’s getting warmer in his arms, to be able to kiss that teasing smirk away from her face, to hear her whispering his name instead of calling him a Mr. Colour Expert. The tie was a gift from Lana, and she insisted on him wearing the stupid thing tonight. He had a bad feeling about the tie from the very beginning but as nobody else commented on it, he decided to let it go, and now she’s making a fool of him because of that crap. To hell with the tie! Could Lana keep this tie good company on its way to hell? That’s an intriguing idea.
He went to see her home, leaving the party; he honestly couldn’t care less about that gathering and the reason behind it. Misha trailed along, so he had to stop him from following, he had do everything to keep her to himself, it’s been him who hasn’t seen her for eighteen months, for crying out loud, not Misha!
After making that obnoxious Misha leave he fell into step with her, trying to make some small talk but his own words didn’t even register in his mind. For the first time in his life he was horrified she would get bored with him. But she listened as if she was interested in what he was telling her, she smiled at him sweetly, she even laughed in the right places. Laughter suited her best; it reached her eyes making them shine with warm sparkles of green and blue, he felt his heart flow with joy and happiness, and love (love?????) just looking in her laughing eyes.
When they reached her home she invited him in for some hot tea because by that time they both were frozen senseless. They talked through the night. Isn’t it strange that they talked almost every day and still had so much to tell each other, so many stories untold, so many things undescribed, so many thoughts unshared, so many things they didn’t have time for. They used to see each other every day, but it was only now that they were sitting across the table in her kitchen that he was finally seeing her face properly. He was drinking in her features, marvelling at her wide grey eyes and smiling lips, trying to keep his hands to himself, to not reach out and touch her thick dark hair, not to caress the soft skin of her cheek, wondering what it would be like to have her in his arms, to feel her slender body against his, to be out of breath kissing her… He had to get to know her for real, to find out what she’s thinking about when she’s quiet and thoughtful, to reveal the secrets she’s hiding behind her laughing eyes and lips, he wouldn’t live if he didn’t. He ached to fight away everything that frightens her, annihilate everything that might hurt her, to care for her, to protect her…
Her lips are the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted!
How was it humanly possible for him to live without her for all those damned eighteen months? How could he not see her, meeting her every day? And how is he supposed to carry on with his life if he has to leave tomorrow?!
He was leaving her place in the morning, and she was watching him leave. The next day was her Birthday, and he didn’t even have a present for her.
So he stayed.
He left in a week to try and survive another six months without her. Not seeing her.
Will she wait?
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thanx so much for reading! :) please, make me happy and comment or even vote if you liked it. I promise to love you forever :)
if there are mistakes or some weird choice of words, please tell me, I'm so not a native speaker :)
and watch the video to the side, it's absolutely amazing!
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and the dedication goes to bedda357 for pointing out my mistakes here, for keeping great company chatting late into the night, and for being a talented writer! Thank you!!! :)
Here's a great book of hers http://www.wattpad.com/7259281-jonathon-book-1-jonathon-chapter-1
