Those Who Stare Into the Sun

Chapter Twenty-three: Pursuit of happiness

I got home that afternoon with a smile on my face. The apartment was empty. Bonnie and Skye were both still at work. I made myself some food and sat down in the couch, to watch some tv and replay the whole day in my head.

My phone started buzzing on the coffee table, so I instantly picked it up - it was probably Donald or Archer who wanted to know how the audition went.

"I went great!" I yelled into the phone, all excited.

"What did?" A chuckle at the other end.

"Well, the audition..." As I said the words, I realized that it was kind of an unfamiliar voice. Or so I thought. "Wait- who is this?"

"And here I thought spending new year's together atleast counted for something."

Fucking hell.
The irish accent was clear as day.

"I thought we would never hear from each other again" I said, a little snotty.

"No", Cillian said. "I don't recall those beeing the exact words. So I'm crossing no line here."

I sighed. And I got really frustrated when I realized that I was actually happy to hear his voice.

"So how you been, Cillian?" I tried sounding as formal as possible.

"I've been just fine, Anya. You?"

"Well, you know. Full schedule."

"So what was this audition all about?"

I lingered, trying to figure out what to say. "Why are you calling me?"

He groaned at the other end. I layed down on the couch, starting to feel a pain in my stomach. Knowing that this one call would put me right back to grinding every word he had said. I was already picturing his blue eyes before me.

"I was just... reminiscing."

Even thought I wanted to talk to him, see him, smell him, feel his touch and his eyes on my face again - I couldn't. I was too old for these things - even though I felt like fifteen again. It was both kinda a nice but also horrible.

"Cillian, I don't want this. It's been two mounths, and..."

"I saw your campaign film for Alexander McQueen", he interrupted.

Of course you did, I thought. Freaking men.

"- and wow, that was really something else." He did a little howl, and I couldn't help but to chuckle.

"So you're calling because you saw me tossing and turning around in mud?"

He cleared his throat. "No, that's not- well, maybe a little bit... but not mainly!"

I snorted, and then waited for him to get to the point.

"Listen-" he said. "We're done shooting the Bond-film, and I got a little new project going on."

"Uh-hu?"

"Yes, see - Anthony Byrne has turned down making another season for Peaky Blinders, and I've been asked to co-direct with Tom Harper."

"Don't know who these people are, but alright."

"I've been wanting to do this for a while, to put new life in the series. And now I've got my chance. Which would mean that I've got a say in the whole production."

"I didn't even know that they were making another season - isn't it time to put it to rest now?"

I said that to mock him.

"Oh- not with me directing. I've got loads of ideas."

"Okeey - but what do this have to do with - wait" I felt my throat getting dry.