My cab arrives at the address sent by Tristan. The sinking sun makes mellow gold of all the air. And this huge city starts imitating the sun. For me, London is like a living machine spread over a once lush green land like a microchip enlarged. The roads run in their predictable grid pattern and the lights of the stores, restaurants, and places of vice shine neon into the night. Lights glitter everywhere just like stars dropping down on Earth. Huge and small buildings collide in a mixture of shadow and geometry and vehicles rush along tangled lines of streets creating twisting threads of light – they all intertwine together in a magnificent mess of dreams.
I get down the cab making sure of the presence of all my belongings. Dragging the luggage by my side, I pass through the automatic security check of the humongous building, my brother now lives in. The immensely lighted lift takes me up to the twelfth floor. I press the doorbell of room no. 1203 and patiently wait for an answer.
"Hey, Anika!" my ebullient brother chirps. He pulls me in for a warm hug and helps the luggage in.
"So, was your journey comfortable?" he asks handing me a glass of water.
"Tiring," I reply, gulping down the cool water in one go.
"Freshen up yourself, then we will leave for dinner," he informs me, taking my luggage into my room.
Tristan continued living London in order to expand my parents business when they both died. I left for Cambridge since my godfather Fred lived there, however I kept visiting him often during the breaks.
"Where would you like to go?" Tristan asks. He has changed himself into casual black jeans and a t-shirt.
"Anywhere you take me," I reply with a smile.
***
Tristan pulls the car into the parking lot, after what seems like an hour of silent driving. The restaurant is languished with a decent yet elegant interior, worth the long drive and the growling of my stomach. Aroma of freshly prepared delicacies fills in my lungs, increasing the intensity of hunger. We settle ourselves at one of the booth and start flipping through the menu card. Soon a waitress arrives taking our orders. I order for white pasta, something that I have been waiting to eat with my brother.
"Oh Anika, there are so many things I have to tell you. I don't understand where to start from!" Tristan exclaims, clearly indicating that things have been fairly good as he hardly ever shares his problems with me. I only come to know about them, once he resolves them.
"Okay, I'll help you. Tell me why you chose this place for dinner tonight?" I ask him.
"Oh, it's my friend, Jason Keller's restaurant. You remember how Mr. Finnick helped me get into the business college and that's where I met him..." And then Tristan goes on and on about how Jason became his best friend and his father who is the owner of the world famous Keller's business of Hotel Management helped him by partnering with our business and now they both are running quite amazingly. He says he has formed a really family-like bond with the Kellers'.
I continuously reply to him with all kinds of "hmms" encouraging his speech.
"You saw the new car I got right? If it continues this way for a few more months, I can get a house and you can move in here. In fact, I've already gone through a few options. I want you to see and approve it."
I smile at him, happy with his progress. "I wish mom and dad were here, they would've been proud of their son."
"Are you proud of me?"
"Yes, of course."
"That's all that matters!"
And then arrives the most awaited dish of the year – my white pasta. We both are so hungry that we hardly attempt to involve ourselves into any kind of conversation while eating. Appetizing dessert satisfies both; the stomach and the resistance of the tongue for such a tempting dish. We drive back to the apartment with light music flowing off from the radio and the cool wind whooshing through the windows down.
***
I am completely absorbed into my book as I barely realize that my brother has been knocking the door a couple of times before finally barging in.
"Girl, how can you be so alert of your surroundings while reading!" he sarcastically remarks.
I faintly smile still engrossed into the turn of events in my book.
"Now listen carefully," he starts.
I continue looking into the book trying to analyze the narrative style when I hear him mutter something before he snatches away the book from my hands.
"Hey!!"
"Listen Anika, tomorrow, we are going to visit those houses I've seen. Jason will be coming along so make yourself presentable," he informs.
Hah! As if I'm gonna dress up like an escaped prisoner!
He turns around exiting my room.
"Hey, my book!"
"Go to sleep Anika."
'You give my book," I order and start following him until he stops just before his room.
"No, you sleep right now, no more reading, we have to wake up early tomorrow," he authorizes
"Don't be a dad!" I practically whine.
"No Anika!" he gets inside the room and slams the door on my face
WHAT?!
I make a mental note to torture him and go back to my room but sleep doesn't turn up.
I find my legs dragging me to my brother's room not caring to create as minimum sound as possible.
"Anika?" he questions in a drowsy voice.
Without replying, I climb up on his bed and scoot closer to him. He stretches his arms and I rest my head over his shoulders, my hand placed on his chest. He hugs me back, his huge hands securely wrapped around my body. I feel comfortably warm. After a long time, I finally find some sound sleep. No doubt when people say elder brothers behave like young, mature and responsible fathers.
YOU ARE READING
GRAY
Teen Fiction"I am not one of your fictional characters, with whom you're so in love with," he pins me to the wall and continues in his dangerous tone, "I am not Edward Cullen or Augustus Waters. Neither am I Peeta Mellark, nor that stupid Four," he moves back...
