Doctor's Touch

Chapter 15

Tillie Cole once said, "A home is not a place. It's not a country or a town or a building or a possession. Home is with the person who throughout it all never gives up on you and brings you eternal happiness."

Many of you might smile reading this, thinking about some specific individual. But have you ever felt in a moment of your life that you don't belong anywhere, much less to anyone? Have you ever seen all the skies shine in a specific hue of blue, never in a different way?

Cause I have. In every second and every minute of my day. Yet, I've learned that home isn't a person or a special place, it's a sentiment- a flood that comes and goes. Therefore, my only homes are lands lost in my memory. And I can't help but wonder, will I find a new one here in Málaga? This city is after all the birthplace of the famous Spanish artist Pablo Picasso. Maybe it will awaken my sleeping satisfaction and help me reborn from anew.

Call it a sixth sense, but there's a pinch of excitement coming alive to the sounds of albatrosses, promising me a noticeable rebirth. As each wave hits the boat gracefully, I contemplate the endless scenarios of our week-end here.

The land keeps getting bigger, its lines becoming more defined. I raise my hands to savor the wind one last time before going down to wake my friends up. As you have probably noticed, they're night owls whereas I'm a morning sunflower. During our cruise, I have to scream and shout for them to leave their bed each morning. If they only knew the sights they were missing, they would wake up at dawn.

After threats of throwing water in their face, they get up from their slumber like zombies and start dressing up. We decide to have breakfast in a small café at the bottom of the port. Alice and Evelyn need some caffeine in their system, or they will ship my head off back to Cadiz.

It's a matter of minutes before my feet finally meet the ground and its people. I look around me, studying the passengers going in and out until we arrive at that so called café. The aroma of coffee greets us at the door louder than a bell. Also, the sight of flowers decorating the walls leaves us at awe and hypnotizes us to enter.

On the counter, we spot the barista sitting alone doing some calculation. The old woman has tired eyes, yet the gleam of joy in them reveals much she enjoys her job. From our point of view, it looks like the place is nearly empty. So, we profit from the tranquility to order the shop's specialty before settling down at the corner.

Suddenly, the door cracks open and the barista smiles at the sight of new costumers. Their identity doesn't spark my interest; they're probably tourists discovering the place, just like us.

"Good morning Ma'am, I would like two Espressos please."

Adrenaline suffocates my blood as I recognize the person behind this voice.

I turn around to make sure this is not a hallucination, only to return my head to its initial position faster than light itself. It's really him, my mind isn't playing tricks on me.

Unexpectedly, the conversation between my friends seems to fade away, transforming into a chorus of incoherent words. I still nod agreeingly at their argument, not wanting them to notice my change of mood- not wanting my crush to notice me.

You must be wondering why I'm hiding since he has helped me in overcoming a huge obstacle in my life the previous day. The truth is, I'm not afraid of facing him. I would rather drown myself in a droplet of his ocean than gaze at all the seas in the world. It's just that I'm afraid of my emotions, their intensity and the lack of control I have over them.

"Good morning, ladies, how are you?" His voice startles me one more time.

The warmth of Troy's body vibrates in the air and dissipates through my clothes, which means he's standing directly behind me.