The Gray Case

twenty-two

"No," Alexander says, now standing tall on his feet. "Please don't talk to him now. Wait until any fingerprints are found. I don't want to accuse him and then be wrong. I wouldn't want to accuse him at all..."

He sighs, but it isn't relief. Skin damp in frustration and eyes hooded, there is a veil of aching pain in them.

"The only thing I can do for you is wait a couple of days before talking to him. It's important that I talk to him before fingerprints are found, just in case he changes his side of the story later on."

He feels defeat deep in his shoulders and at loss in front of his words, he surrenders. A chunk of his heart is gone yet present, torturous and demanding. The heaviness of it is due to the growing secret that has now lost its identity—the cause being Alexander's mouth and mind, the subject being Ryan.

The bit of heart is now in the detective's and Maya's hands, too. With it beating and alive, their hands close and their mouths are sealed, just for the time being. Silent goodbyes are exchanged and two by two, Maya by Alexander, they walk back to her car.

Evenings are made for long talks cuddled by nature's silence. They are made for eyes and hands, storms and the calm after it.

Driving through the towns secrets and open roads, Maya feels the burning, aching, deep yet admiring and intense stare of the boy next to her.

"You're not mad? That I didn't tell you earlier?"

She is now a sad smile and a trembling heart. "I would have acted just like you. I understand. So, no. I'm not mad."

"Well it's not like you ever get mad, anyways." He half smiles, a part of him maybe not wanting to do so. That part is probably still somewhere in that forest, in those eyes, in that gun.

The other part, on the contrary, too busy and too sincere to himself to tear his eyes off of her.

"I do get mad," she says, pursing her lips in the attempt to hold back her smile.

"Yeah. Like, three times in a lifetime. I agree." She laughs and shakes her head afterwards. He does too and that's just because of her.

Light peaks from outside the car windows, shadows and dim silhouettes of contrasting colors are the frame to this moment's painting.

Storming inside of them—both for different reasons—they find comfort in the calm that can only come from the meeting of souls like theirs. The mixture of Alexander and Maya.

"What are you doing tonight?" His question almost came out of the blue; almost because the thought has been lingering lonely and aimlessly in his mind for a while now.

"Um, I'm hanging out with Marcus and maybe Lisa too," she says, her words distracted for a bit when she turns around to meet his eyes, darker in the low light as she has never seen. But not because of that less beautiful.
"What about you?"

A fleeting movement; his eyes are on her and his attention is too. Just as that second goes by, something quick and hardly recognizable arises in his face, his jaw, his eyebrows, nose, eyes and mouth. It paints a swift shadow on his features and then it's gone, although traces of it are still heard in the depths of his tone.

"Are you and Marcus going out? I mean, do you like him?"

Maya is quick to reply. "No, we are not dating. And I don't like him that way, I guess... He's just my friend, I don't know if you know about him, but--"

"I know who he is," he cuts her sentence with an almost whispered one. She nods, that's all she needs, or is it really enough? Does she need him to tell her she doesn't like him that way?