Your place looked like it was yours.
I suppose that's an odd thing to say. The walls a pinkish peach shade, large soft odd shaped rugs everywhere. Your couch looked like it was made of clouds and I had even noticed those clear bowls of dried flowers you had placed around the room. Filling the room with this scent I had caught on you earlier.
The entire place screamed of you.
Walking into your penthouse had hit me with the sense that I was getting awfully close to you. That faint lavender scent you have on you, the scent I had noticed on you that day in the park when I got distracted by your eyes. It was everywhere.
I had walked in sheepishly behind you as you led us to the living room. "Make yourself at home!" you had said. "Yeah." I had awkwardly replied as I followed you around. I was terribly nervous. I knew I was going to trip on myself and end up making myself look like a bigger idiot.
I'd hear you laugh, I pathetically reminded myself. and shook my head to clear that train of thoughts away. "What would you like to have? I have instant coffee, I should still have some lychee juice left. I would offer you pastries but you made a weird sound at the sight of my favourite cakes last time so I wont give them to you." you stood at the entry to your kitchen space.
Your place was big, was the only thought I had had. High ceilings, big rooms, filled with not enough furniture. You stayed there alone, you had told me after I made a few snarky remarks about your insanely sweet cakes, and accepted your offer of lychee juice.
We stood in your kitchen as you very carefully poured the juice into two plastic mugs for us, one of your fingers slightly bent on the inside of the cup to make sure you don't overfill them. just to fill in the silence I had asked you about your apartment, stupidly I had asked you how you had gotten it.
"It was a gift from my grandmother. I'm not exactly a very welcome member in my family." you had a bitter sweet smile as you told me about them. I had gotten the urge to hug you close then, such a look in your eyes wasn't something I was used to. Eyes that mirrored the galaxy, had looked at me like something would have broken at the slightest nudge.
I had clenched a fist to restrain myself, "Is it," a pause to try and decide if it was an appropriate question, "because of your-"
"My eyes and hair?" you laughed a humourless laugh, "I do hope it isn't. I hope whatever I have found out about my family is just the way it is. That my grandmother hated my side of the family because my father was a commoner, because my mother ran away with my father and had come home with me in tow."
You pushed my glass of lychee juice towards me, "They weren't a very big fan of what my mother had done or my father. He was a nice person, he just couldn't handle my mothers family so he left early on."
Silence stretched for a few moments. "So you grew up with your mother?"
"Oh no." Another humorless laugh, "My grandmother. She raised me." you had taken a small sip from your own cup, and I had gotten the sense that the pause that followed that was you trying to decide if you could tell me whatever you told me next. "Sometimes my father would come to pick me up and keep me for a few months. He occasionally still does come to meet me."
You began walking out of the room and I had followed you till the couch where we sat next to each other. The way you settle on it, all poised and elegant. I had folded a leg and turned to face you, "So your grandmother is the mean one. We don't like her?"
"We don't blame her." you had corrected me, "I mean from her perspective, I am a mistake. My condition just made the case worse for my mother. I don't see her much. Actually I haven't seen her in a while."
"Your condition?" my voice had raised a decibel higher than I had intended it too.
Correcting myself for the next few words I had spoken with conviction, "Your only condition is that you're insanely talented is what. It's incredibly hard for normal people to even go about their day. Hell, I trip at least five times and hit my head twice everyday. You are so careful with everything you do. You look elegant even pouring lychee juice in a cup." I huffed out annoyed that you had believed what they said.
Angry at them that they made you feel that way.
Like it was your choice to be born the way you were.
As perfect as you are, the audacity they had-
It might be hard for you to understand this but I get you. I might not have our condition, or any disability at all, but I always found that I felt a little more deeply than those around me.
I was too into my head back then.
It took me a long time to learn to get out of my head. To at least pretend not to wear my heart on my sleeve. Nothing good ever comes from doing that in a world like this. I learnt that the hard way.
"And besides all that you're insanely good at what you do. I mean the sculptures you have made are phenomenal. I have never seen anything like it-"
"You've seen my work?" your voice had something light to it. "Yeah, I looked it up the second time we met and," I'm pretty sure my ears had turned red then when realisation hit me, "I mean it sort of just came up I didn't like to look into it. You know. Like it just happened. Somehow."
You were trying to hide a giggle bubbling in you now, pursing your lips. That glitter had returned to your eyes, your cheeks adorning a pinch of rose.
And just like that you were back on your feet.
If I ever did end up meeting your grandmother, I had thought to myself, I would respectfully give her a piece of my mind. I would definitely not start a fight because you would hate that.
It was getting dark and I had a faint sense of how I was supposed to leave soon. Instead I had cleared my throat, "There's this movie I've been wanting to watch for a while. This sappy romance movie,"I placed my empty mug down, "I don't know much about it. But I heard it was really good."
You looked like a meerkat, probably trying to decide if your schedule could fit me. Your back all straight, your head tilted to the side slightly, with the most adorable frown scrunching your features.
I had the urge to put you in my pocket again.
I probably would have if you hadn't spoken up, "Sure! Ill go try to set it up." you had said getting up too fast. You had tripped.
You had stumbled, and I had moved to catch you before you hit your head on the coffee table.
That's what had actually happened. I realised I had never made it clear to you. I never pulled your arm to make you fall onto me on purpose. I didn't mean to startle you like that.
I didn't mean to stay that way for longer than we had to. I didn't mean to forget to let go of your arm, or stare into your eyes for too long. My heart was in my throat, you could probably hear the thumping from a mile away.
You got off me, giggling awkwardly and calling yourself clumsy.
And I had this realization that hit me like a bucket of cold water.
It was happening. I was liking you more than I should.
Dangerously more than I should.
The first thought I had, that told me to run away before things got worse, was that night at your place.
If I had known things would turn out the way it had with us,
I probably would have left earlier.
ns216.73.216.10da2
and then Add to home screen.