The Saint Jones [Completed]

chapter 28: An Ecstasy

"Your favourite author?" He asks this time, his face still showing a tinge of red, indicating that he is feeling embarrassed after the last question I asked.

He likes romance, what a statement coming from him. I know men like romance, which is utterly normal, it is like women who likes action, it is the same thing but it sounds funny in my head, Julian likes romance. He confessed to having read almost all of Nora Roberts' books and was deeply affected emotionally when he read Sunshine and Shadow.

He did not laugh when he told me his secret but I, on the other hand, was trying my best to stay neutral in front of him. Yes, I wanted to laugh so badly, but he was not joking, he was not trying to make me laugh, instead he shared something that he said was a secret between him and himself, a secret that he did not think twice to share with me.

"Blatty Williams," I reply with honesty.

"I thought you liked romance, Blatty is far from being an author with books that talk about love. He is, well, clearly not a love story writer," he says and I nod. Of course he does not write about love stories, Blatty is the best horror writer for my taste, no one can reach his delicate yet rough way of showing the world he created.

"I like romance but I like Blatty," I reply and he nods slowly.

"Your favourite author?" I ask the same question back. If only we could talk about books and authors for the rest of the night, it could be a dream but I know that we have other things to say, things that do not concern books.

"I don't have a favourite author... yet," he mumbles slowly. How can not he not yet have a favourite author? He told me that he had been reading since the early age of 10. He said his first book was Peter Pan, so I thought he liked James Matthew Barrie, the first author he read but apparently not.

Not having a favourite author is acceptable, but in his case, it is kind of weird. He has read a million of books over the years, he can not say that none of these authors touched him or made him feel alive. He is probably lying to me and trying to keep it all for him or maybe he is serious.

"It is weird, you read tones of book, one should have touched you deep in your heart, right?" I ask, trying to understand him. But as much as I try to make my mind work, I just can not.

He sighs almost silently but I heard the air coming out of his nose. It is a great time we are having together. I mean, I learned a lot of things about him in such a thin delay of time. I learned that he likes romance, also that he is twenty-three sharp of years. I also collected that his mother is from Spain and that he is legally Spanish as well.

To be honest, I never thought I would be sitting in front of him and asking him question about his life. But what I never, ever thought would have happened was him kissing me earlier. It was so unexpected, I still can not understand why he did it but I am not going to complain, I enjoyed it.

"You know, sometimes the books are great, just like the authors, but emotionally, it doesn't reach you deep in your soul and make you fall in love with it. It's simple, let's say the book is a person trying to flirt with you, let's say that sometimes it takes time to flirt, sometimes it only takes two minutes. Books are like that for me, but unfortunately I haven't reached the point where in two pages I was in love."

I nod even if I am still trying to understand what he said. However, it is still weird that none of the books made him feel at least a bit of joy, sadness or love. Maybe he is a strict reader, they exist but I can not catch the ball that he was a strict reader since he was ten years old.

"Well, let's move on, right?" He asks and I nod again.

"I have a question," he says and I wait for his question. So far we have been talking about books, it was great but what he asks then tells me that the book topic is now well buried beneath us. "Are you single? I mean, not married or have a boyfriend?"