The Gold and the Forest

XXIII

Chapter 23: Realize

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His lips were always soft, shy. He loved giving her butterfly kisses. Brief, almost barely there. She remembered the winter of senior year, the first time they kissed. Then they kissed until he had gotten on top of her, where he laid those butterfly kisses against her neck.

As desperately as she wanted him to do it again, she pushed him back. He was tipsy, and he didn't mean these kisses. Though, she wondered if he meant those kisses back then.

"Sorry..." He whispered. "I need... I need to talk to Min."

She stiffened.

"Why?" Her voice shook in the moment she wanted herself to be strong.

He was making the move to get up, but she grabbed his arm.

"Is that the only reason you've kissed me? Do I feel like her?"

He paused, then his face scrunched up.

"You only started liking me because Kade rejected you."

She was having a hard time breathing, tears stinging her eyes.

"No." She whispered. "No—You don't get it, Carl."

"What is it that I don't get?" He huffed.

"Falling for you was inevitable." A tear slipped down her cheek. "You are terribly— horribly—irresistible."

"But I can't let myself keep on falling." She inhaled deeply, determined to stop the tears. "Because you're still hung up over her."

"I..." He began.

"Goodnight." She finished, and she stood up and left.

---

It was the first time he felt the urgency to go after her. He went back into the house to get Declan, having to weave through half the house and look through a few rooms to finally locate his stepbrother, who had been playing spin the bottle. He caught the birthday girl on top of his own stepbrother and felt a mild sense of disgust. Tastelessly, he yanked the young boy away from Iris.

"Wh—Hey! Why are we leaving so urgently!? I thought you wanted to wingman me, not cockblock—"

"Vivi is leaving." Carl hurriedly informed him. "She can't go home alone."

Clan sobered up real quick and started jogging ahead of Carl. They exited the house.

"I'll catch up to her, you go home." Clan said to him before sprinting forward. Carl staggered, taking a break against a wall.

He was waiting for the world to stop spinning, he didn't hear someone approaching until they spoke up.

"You're the cousin."

Carl turned around, instantly regretting the action when a wave of dizziness hit him. The guy standing in front of him had a stance of animosity.

"Where did Vivi go?" He asked Carl.

Carl ignored him and started walking again.

"Did something happen to her?" His voice had gotten dark.

The next few seconds were deafening. So caught off guard by the first blow, Carl had fallen to the floor. His ears ringing, he wasn't ready for the second one.

"A pretty girl like her—" He could barely register the guy gritting his teeth. He was on top of him, gripping Carl's collar with a determined fury. Carl felt like there was more history to his anger, and that he was just taking it out on him.

Carl's indifference morphed into a nasty bloodthirst. He stopped the third punch coming towards him and returned the favor. He cut it short by slamming the younger guy into the wall and landing a harsh blow into his abdomen. He left him on the floor, wiping his own bleeding lip.

"Waste of my time." Carl growled and stalked off.

---

He finally got back to his house and fell against the wall, sitting with his back against it and holding his head in his hands. His cheek hurt, and his chest ached. Angry at himself for not diffusing the matter with the guy and frustrated that he couldn't say anything worthy to Vivi.

There was nothing he understood entirely.

Nothing.

He didn't know who could help him.

After all, his mom has been gone for so long already and he hadn't built any relations with his stepfather. And Clan was too young to offer any support.

He felt terribly alone.

And he remembered briefly, the night he got drunk, Vivi sang him something.

He passed out on the floor.

---

He woke up to the door bumping against his foot.

"Carl."

It took him a moment to register who it was. He swiftly made the move to get up, regretting the action thereafter when he winced in pain.

"Sir."

It was his stepfather, standing in the blinding morning, a look of resigned sternness in his expression. He made no response and came inside the house. He instructed Carl to wash up with a point of his finger and started putting down some fruit at the dinner table.

Carl cleared his throat awkwardly and went off to the bathroom, checking how badly his appearance was. A bruise on the face, a cut on the lip. He heaved a sigh and washed up.

He returned to bright fruit on his table, something that Clan always came over with. He distantly remembered Clan mentioning that his father was going to "bust in" if Carl didn't go over and pay a visit. He did not think Declan was serious. This was the worst timing.

"Your mother..." Carl paused at his voice. "She always felt bad for not having enough time to buy fruit for you."

"...Mom?" Carl asked softly.

"I don't know what happened last night, but you have to take care of yourself, Carl." His stepfather looked him in the eyes. "I know you are a reliable man. Albeit a little lost, but reliable."

"I will." He answered, the last word trailed off.

"It's alright to talk to us—Declan and I—about any problems you have with women."

Carl heaved a big sigh.

"Clan told you to tell me that, didn't he?"

"If you don't want to, that is fine as well."

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