Forbitten

Chapter 12

I stood outside the door of Christopher's apartment with my phone to my ear. The hallway was carpeted and badly lit. My eyes could barely decipher the floral designs on the cream wallpaper. It smelled heavily of dust and moth balls.

"Remember, Terry, if my parents call your house, I'm with you," I told my friend. He had been dazed ever since I left him in Mr. Papa Smoke's office. I only heard silence through my phone as I awaited his response. "Terry?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, Mos... keep going." He sounded breathless.

"Keep going? Did you ignore our entire conversation? I was saying that I need you to make sure I don't get caught." My patience was growing thin and I quickly wondered why he was acting so dopey today.

"Papa, stop for a second." Terry took a deep breath after addressing his dad and continued. "Yeah, Mos, I got it. Elan and Matt know what to say if Katherine or Bryin calls."

"Elan and Matt? Terry, where are you?" I tugged at the strap of my overnight bag and sighed loudly.

"I'm... not home. Don't worry so much, Mos. Try to have fun," Terry giggled before hanging up. I shoved the phone into my back pocket and moved closer towards the door, within a knocking distance.

I tried not to worry too much as I rapped my appendages upon the door. The door resembled the one at school that led to his classroom. But, when behind this door, we were free to love one another.

My knocking was met with silence and my pulse quickened. Did Christopher ditch me? No... he would never do that. Instead of knocking again, I slammed myself against the doorbell to alert Chris of my presence. Then, I heard shuffling inside of the apartment and suddenly the door swung open. It took him a moment to see me, but when he did, his face broke into a wide smile. I smiled back nervously, my cheeks growing red.

"Mos..." He just stared at me dreamily before clearing his throat. "Please, come in."

I followed him in and immediately noticed the brightness of his home compared to the hallway. The beige walls complemented the wooden floors that led from the small entryway to his living room. There were two black leather sofas surrounding a coffee table with a bible placed on the center. In the corners of the family room were mahogany bookshelves filled with pieces of literature and covered in dust.

"I know it's not much," he began to say. I turned towards him and quickly pecked his lips.

"I love it, it's comfortable and homey... like a home... I can see us... living here... together." the words fumbled out of my lips and he widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows at my statement. "Not that we, uh, have to." I averted my eyes and instead focused on the old fireplace in the center of the room. It was wood burning.

Suddenly, I felt his hand on my shoulder, grabbing for my bag. I let him take it and watched as he gently placed it onto a recliner.

"Come... I made dinner." He grabbed my hand and dragged me into the small alleyway kitchen. The food was already prepared, spread out on his petite white table. In the middle of the dishes was a vase holding a single rose. It smelled delicious.

The meal was spectacular. He made rare steaks with some blood still left on the dish next to the baked potatoes and green beans. It was so thoughtful of him and I felt my heart swell with love. We made simple small talk as we ate. He asked how I was doing in school and how Bryin and Katherine were. As we gazed into each others eyes and held hands over the table, I spoke up.

"Christopher, how is your family?" A dark expression covered his face and I feared I ruined the mood. However, I rubbed his knuckles with my hand and he smiled sweetly.