When We Met

Thirty Seven

|Martin|

"She wanted to know if I broke his nose or not." I say amusedly, chuckling at the memory.

Cheryl grins at me, stacking a book with a pastel blue cover and a huge white bird. I try to read the title of the book, but fail to do so because Cheryl is very quick at placing books in their respective shelves. Maybe a book shop is all that she ever needed to get herself going.

"I knew she was counting on it." She says, pushing her specs up the bridge of her nose.

"You did?"

"Of course! Have you never met Deborah? She'd kill to see you punch the asshole who put her life into a mess."

"I think you're right. She just needed an assurance that she won't be alone in this, and I think the fact that I removed the eejit makes her feel at home. Literally. So, yeah. I'm glad."

"I can understand. She shouldn't be dealing with all of this. But I'm not gonna feel bad for her, coz face it: she's lucky enough to have a sibling who's got her back."

I sense a tone of sadness in her voice and frown. She doesn't notice my sudden silence and turns around to place three more books. I jump off the table and snake my arms around her waist, just the way she likes it, and place my head on her shoulder.

She giggles and turns her head a little so that I can kiss her right temple.

"What?" She asks.

"I get a feeling that you wanna say something." I say and turn her around in my arms. "Is there something that's bothering you?"

She sighs and puts her head against my chest.

"I'm just... Whenever I see you with Deborah, I realise that I have no one to share that bond with, you know? No older or younger sibling to talk to or spend time with. I feel this emptiness inside of me that is more than just a taunt. It tells me that I'm alone and lonely, which is a terrible combination, just by the way." She sighs again, louder this time. "Ugh, I'm sorry."

"Hey? I thought that you enjoyed being an only child."

"I did! And I do, even today. But... See, if I get into a situation like Deborah's, I'll have no one to turn to. My parents will be there, yes. But their judgemental personalities won't help me in any way. I'll be alone. On my own."

"Cher... I've said it before, and I'll say it again: you aren't alone. You'll never be, because we have each other. I've got your back and you've got mine. What else do you need? Just say it and I'll be there for you." I plant a kiss on her forehead. "Also," I start, a gleam in my eyes. "I'll never put you in Deborah's place unless and until we are ready for it."

She looks at me with a raised eye brow and I wink at her.

"You think about stuff like that?" There's a faint smile on her face, which I adore so much.

"Sometimes. You?"

"Sometimes."

"That sounds tempting. Tell me more?" We sit down on the floor, cross legged, and stare at each other.

"What?" She asks again and I wonder why she tries to act dumb in situations that make her nervous.

"You think about stuff... What stuff?" I prompt. She squints her eyes a little and bites on her lower lip.

"Well, I think about all the cheesy, bookish stuff, which is baseless. So, that doesn't matter."

"It does. It matters to me. Would you stop editing and filtering your words so much?"