Caught in-between #Wattys2016

Points of View: Adam

(This chapter has a pretty descriptive sex scene in it)

Two weeks. That was how long it had been since I had last seen her. I had heard nothing from her in that time- not that I was particularly easy to reach; but two weeks was an excessive amount of time nonetheless. I’d not seen her at the gardens, nor the florist’s or any of the other places that she liked to visit. I didn’t like the way her absence affected me- the way she ruled my feelings.

 I had to see her- had to be near her- to read her face. Her resolve to stay away from me never lasted long. I imagine she had convinced herself that he would be enough for her as long as she didn’t have to see me. If she truly didn’t want me, then I would stay away- I was sure of that- but I wasn’t prepared to let her lie to herself.

 Cassandra refused to see that we were drawn together by fate. That much was clear from how we had come to know each other. I’d thought of that day often. I remember how she’d come flying down my high street, running blindly it seemed, colliding with a middle aged suit. I remember how she’d stumbled to the ground, her shoulders hunched forward, completely unaware of the rain that was falling heavily. It had soaked her hair; elongating her curls, making them stick to her face. She’d lowered her face into her hands, her body shaking with the tremors of her sobs.

 I’d watched her for a moment; she intrigued me. I’d seen her before- at the gardens and then again at various galleries. I had found her interesting, but she had somebody.

 But here she was- alone and she’d seemed...broken.

 I’d been unaware of my feet carrying me forward. I’d been drawn, like a magnet towards her, completely unable to resist. I’d reached were she had fallen but she had been completely unaware of my presence; completely consumed by her grief. I’d strongly felt that she deserved some privacy- not the disdainful looks of these passers-by. I’d bent to pick her up, ‘You can’t do this here,’ I’d said to her quietly. I needed to get her to a safe place. I’d wanted to give her that much.

 ‘No’ she’d moaned weakly, struggling against me. I’d held her tightly wishing that I could lighten her load; wishing that she could transfer some of her pain onto me. She’d made me feel helpless. The intensity of the feeling had surprised me and I didn’t like it, yet I hadn’t felt able to remove myself from her situation.

 ‘I’m not letting you run to God knows where in the state that you’re in’ I’d growled at her. She’d allowed me to steer her into a small café. I remember how she had clutched desperately at my jacket allowing me to support her weight; how frail she’d seemed; how her need had intensified her beauty. I’d known there were no words I could say that would alleviate her pain. I also knew that side stepping the issue of her loss would be fruitless.

 I’d ordered her a Cappuccino and led her to the back of the café, away from prying eyes; I’d wanted to protect her. We’d sat down. Silent tears had fallen steadily down her face. Her cheeks were void of mascara streaks, yet her eyelashes were full and dark, glistening with the tears that were yet to fall. I’d studied her face which was crumpled with pain; the crease in her brow, her green tinted hazel eyes, red from crying, her full lips down turned at the corners- she was mesmerising. I’d wanted to touch her face, to hold her.