His Little Heir

Muffin Monstrosity

     Daya followed him to the gazebo's center, their hands intertwined. She looked up at Leon, and for a second, let herself slip. Slip into a reality where only the warmth between them and his lazy smirk existed, a reality where she woke up beside him and brushed stray hairs away from his still shut eyes, and in the same place, kissed him with her whole heart, her whole mind, and with not an ounce of hesitation.

     Then his hand slipped away, and so did their reality.

     "You okay?" Leon sat on the blanket and patted the space next to him, "You seem.. spaced out."

     Daya slung her bag off her shoulders and sat down, "Sorry, it's just-"

     "Everything?"

     "Pretty much." She shook her head, not knowing what to say next.

     Winding strands of her hair around her fingertips, Daya looked just above Leon's intensive gaze. What was there to say, or better yet, what was there to say to him? How could she look at him and say that she loved someone else? How could she look at him and say that she considered cheating him? How could she look at him like this?

     How was he looking at her?

     Daya struggled to find the right words, and in that struggle's darkness, guilt hunted her down. It closed in on her like a sea of faces all foaming with vile rage, all screaming, and all wanting her dead.

     Surrounded, she put her back up against a mirror. Its cold glass licked her back. She gasped, but it was too late.

      Her own face had joined the crowd. They locked identical eyes, yet no sound fell between them, because she was speachless. She was speechless too.

     Nothing transpired between the pair of eyes, and they stayed like that for a long time, a long long time, until the first tear fell. And then an identical one.

    And then another.

   And then another.

     No more crying. No more secrets. Just action. Just them.

     Daya met his gaze with all she had to give, because she knew if the truth broke her, broke them, then there was no right way to say it.

     There were no right words.

     "Leon," she let out a long sigh, "That day you saw my dad and I in the lounge.. there's more to it."

     He shook his head, "You don't have to explain how you feel. How I reacted- sure I had every right to be upset- but it doesn't mean I can just disregard your feelings because I may not understand them. I just thought if you loved him, you would've left after the wedding, so when you didn't, I-I kinda thought you were completely over him for a minute there. That'd it be just us, you know?" He ran his fingers through his hair and set his jaw in a line, "You're the innocent one here, Daya, not me. I...hurt you. I left marks on your face, on your arm, for what? To prove a point that was wrong?"

     Daya pulled her hair out of the elastic and started winding it into braids, "I wrecked the planting."

     "No, you didn't."

     She gripped a new strand of hair and separated it- anything to ground her wandering mind. However, the one place she couldnt guide herself back from was the silver platter lying in front of her. She didn't know its contents of course, she hadn't asked, but Daya prayed that whatever they were, they were hot.

     "Daya?" Leon's fingers brushed her shoulder, "Hello?!"

    "Oh! Sorry, ah, what'd you say?" She tore her eyes away from the dish.