Butterfly and Flame - Alina and Evan

Evan-Nightmares

He debated wether or not to text her. She hadn't given him her phone number. He hadn't asked. He had meant to, but somehow he forgot. Mr. Alexander himself forgetting to get a girls number. Christian would never have let him live it down if he knew. Note to self, never tell Christian this story. It all happened so fast. He was walking back up the walkway to get her number. He didn't want to sound like he was interested in her, even though he couldn't stop starring,starring at her lips, and cleavage and beautiful eyes intently. So he planned to tell her that he would be gone for the weekend to go and check out the cabin that Elliot had given him to use while illustrating. Since he was going to fly back to New York to finish up some business and gather his personal stuff, he needed her number in order to start sharing some of his ideas for her book that way they could correspond on any details she thought he should have until he could come back and settle in. The next thing he knew she was ready to tumble off the stairs as she turned to respond to his call. He took a couple of long strides and she's was in his arms sliding down his body as if in slow motion. In fact everything happened in slow motion. Her eyes fluttered up to his, her arm rested on his chest and her hips in line with his as he set her down on the walkway. He saw her face blush and then saw as she  bit down on her full lower lip. It took several seconds for him to let her go. What was happening here? She was beautiful to be sure. Gorgeous in fact. Alina wasn't the first beautiful girl he had ever seen or dated but it was more than that. Everything about her aroused him. For the second time today he watched her reach up to her neck and touch her necklace. It must be a nervous habit of hers or maybe she wears a medallion for protection from lecherous men that stalk her night and day. He managed to step away from her and then ask her if she was alright. If she hadn't twisted her ankle or anything. She replied that she was fine in a breathy way and that made his stomach clench up. WHAT was going on? This was not the plan. He was always the one in control and right now this beautiful, very unaware of her own power; woman child was making him squirm and question his confidence. No one had ever done that. Not even his father. He remembered what he wanted to tell her but it seemed so contrived that he made something up instead. He asked her if she would give him directions to the nearest gas station. He had a rental and he needed to fill it up and he still hadn't figured out the town yet.

She quickly pointed down the street, curved her arm to the left then the right and then said that he would see the sign next to the "Donut Hole" coffee shop. Couldn't miss it. He grinned at her directions and told her he would be in touch. Then he turned around and waved goodbye. He was dying to see if she was looking at him as he left but he wouldn't turn around so he turned on the photo app on his phone instead and flipped the camera lens so that he could see behind him as it would appear he was checking his messages or something. Sure enough he caught her staring at him just behind the column of her front porch. Perfect- he hadn't just bumbled everything. She was interested. That was all he needed to know.

He was laying in his bed the last half hour debating if he should call or text her. Elliot had given him her cell number without so much as a curious look at him. He was prepared to give an elaborate explanation. The fact that he had even prepared one made him role his eyes at himself and put his hand through his hair. She had him intrigued. He hadn't stopped thinking about her since he left her house. If he was honest he hadn't stopped thinking about her since he first saw her.

Alina Salvatierra. Even her name was beautiful. Her hair was long and had a wave to it. He knew that if he ran his fingers through it it would feel like heavy silk. Her eyes were a chocolate brown with golden flecks close to the outer irises. She had long lashes and wore very little make up. He had noticed that first off. She wore lipgloss, cherry as far as he could make out the scent; a bit of eyeshadow and mascara, but her skin was flawless and incredibly tan and glowing. She was tall. When he had come to the house she was actually barefoot and still managed to reach his chin with the top of her head. When he had caught her in his arms, he noticed that once he set her on the ground she fit perfectly under his chin. This was crazy he was thinking of her in too many ways that made him feel delusional now.
He had first thought that she was one of those crazy artist types that hung around his parents galleries pretending to be unaware of their "notoriety" in order to garner more attention for being aloof and not bother with things like deadlines, and common courtesy. He had been raised around too many people like that and they got under his skin quickly. But he realized that what he mistook for irresponsibility and childish behavior  was actually her true sincere personality. No fronts, nor persona to portray, no mask to hide behind. She was the real deal. The fact that her legs and a dancers figure were exactly his type didn't hurt one bit.

He closed his eyes as he got ready to text her again. He had waited a few minutes before deciding to text her again and wish her a good night. His first text told her he would be going up to the cabin in the morning and then leaving on an early flight Monday to wrap up business in New York.

He was a little out of sorts that she hadn't answered but he knew it was late and she had mentioned that she was an early riser who opened up the ballet studio in exchange for being able to practice alone in the morning g before the first class began. He had listened attentively as she described her first passion and how it had come to an end. He noticed that she had told him a great deal about it and then suddenly stopped herself. He could see her mentally switching gears and he could have sworn she changed the ending. It didn't feel like a lie but it wasn't the truth either. Perhaps it was too painful to speak about it any more. He could understand that. When he spoke briefly about his parents accident she was intensely listening and watching him. He was caught off guard when she reached over and touched his hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. She was sharing in his grief. No words, just an understanding of what the pain felt like. She was incredible. The fact that they had met jut  hours ago was unbelievable to him. He felt as if though he had known her forever.

Coming out of the shower, with the towel wrapped
around his waist he picked up his phone to see if the office back home had sent him his plane confirmation. Instead he sees a text from Alina. It's  a picture of her cat Maxwell. He's sitting on  a desk or dresser obviously staring at his mistress. The black tuxedo cat is siting like a sphinx probably lapping up all the affection she was giving him. That was one damn lucky cat. He just starred at the phone when another text came through from her "thank you for the lovey flowers and strawberry's. I had a nice time talking with you and I'm glad we gave each other another chance. I have a feeling we will make a great team. Have a great trip. See you soon! PS -Maxwell says good night too. Lol". He was smiling like a fifteen year old with his first crush.
He got up to put on his boxers and he laughed at himself. It had been a while since the mere thought of a girl, a woman really; had aroused him by merely texting. It was gonna be tough getting to sleep tonight.

Its, 4:00 am and he wakes up in a cold sweat. The last images in his mind still fresh as he's sees the familiar scene play over and over. He's standing at the edge of a cliff. Down below is a car that had rolled off the cliff only seconds before. He can here his mother and father screaming. Suddenly a man appears from the side and reaches out to him. The man looks familiar but he can't make out his face completely. He want's to reach his parents but he can't. The man keeps him from going closer. Behind him he sees Christian sitting on the ground clutching his stuffed elephant and swaying back and forth in
a daze. He breaks free from the man and he runs to the edge of the cliff. Down below are his parents, he can't see them, or get to them but he can here their moans of pain. Suddenly the ledge that the car has landed on starts to give way, he watches as the car slips and slips until it breaks free and races to the bottom of the gorge ....he wakes up. Why does this dream come back to him. It's the same dream he's dreamt since he was eleven. The same dream he dreamt the night he learned that his father wasn't really his father and that everything he had ever believed was a lie.