The Moment We Met (Chapter-28)

 

Maisara's pov

We have decided to meet at a nearby park after ten because apparently Felix is gonna have a long night and he needs to see me. And now seeing him, I can confirm he did have a long night. He is looking exhausted and sad and even annoyed, I think. He is watching his steps while making his way to me and his face is so down it looks like he will end up crying any moment. He is taking each step with a little more force than necessary.

"Are you drunk?" I don't know how but that's the first thing that leaves my mouth when Felix makes his dramatic entry. Well, his entry is not that dramatic but my reaction to that definitely is. The way my heart is trying to burst out of my chest and the way my inside is squeezing just by the sight of him is just way too dramatic.

He looks up and flashes me a huge grin as soon as our eyes meet. It's almost as if I'm a button that switches on the light in him. His pace quickens and he almost jogs up to close the rest of the distance between us.

I don't know why I feel like he is gonna hug me. But he doesn't do that. He falls on the bench beside me with a loud thud and slides down until his head is leaned against the backrest of the bench. Then he turns his head to me and his grin widens if possible. "No, I'm perfectly sober."

Yup, definitely drunk. At first glance, he doesn't look drunk. But I can see his red-rimmed eyes from this close. The way he was walking earlier, not wobbly but with a little more strength than usual and the way he is talking, not slurry but slower than normal are enough to tell me that he is definitely not entirely sober.

"There is no use of lying to me, Felix. You know I can tell when you are lying." That's not necessarily true. I never really caught him lying to me before. But you can usually tell the difference between a drunk and a sober person if you yourself are sober enough which I definitely am.

"Of course, you can tell that." His chuckle sounds childish. "My pretty little omniscient." He looks away and tilts his head until he is looking up at the sky. I watch as his smile fades slowly and his eyes lock onto something. I try to follow his gaze but nothing really catches my eyes. The sky tonight is pitch black. I can't even see any stars glowing there.

I look back at him. It seems weird looking at him and not finding him already looking at me. I'm so used to him always looking at me that it almost makes me shocked when my eyes don't automatically collide with his. And that realization makes me even more surprised.

I clear my throat to get rid of these weird thoughts. "Long night?"

He closes his eyes and sighs heavily. Exhaust is clinging to him in such a way that makes my heart clench. I have seen him just this morning and he was the happiest person in the world. What in the world happened that robbed any sort of happiness from him? Or rather who did this to him?

A destructive wave of anger washes over me. I clench my hands to suppress it. I need to keep my emotions in control at least until he is done telling me what happened. That is if he actually tells me what happened.

He nods keeping his eyes closed. "Long night." Then he opens his eyes and takes a deep breath before tilting his head and looking at me. My heart shutters seeing the look in his eyes. The pain reflecting in those glassy eyes is so deep that I swear I can feel it in my bones.

"What happened?" I ask slowly and gently, almost in a whisper. I'm aching to touch him, hold his hands, or pull him in for a hug. But I'm too afraid to do so, either one of us is gonna break if we get the comfort of physical touch from each other. I'm not proceeding unless he does anything.

He must have sensed it too because his hand moves closer apparently in an attempt to touch mine but retreats at the last second. He pulls both of his hands on his lap with palms up and starts examining them. Allah knows what he is tracing there. But what he says next has no association with his hands. "I'm coming from a family dinner."

It's actually shameful for me that it requires more than two seconds for me to understand what he didn't say. Words pour out of my mouth when I finally get it. "So, Ryker it is then."

He looks up from his hands and stares straight ahead with eyebrows furrowing as if he is really concentrating on something. But I know, like the Sky, he is staring at nothing.

When he starts talking, his voice sounds so hollow that my heart gives another painful squeeze. "You know, it's not entirely him either. I'm feeling like it's me actually this time. Because the thing is he didn't even do anything to me. I mean he did things that I don't think I ever noticed him doing before. And that kinda felt like he is showing off in front of me on purpose to tick me off. And it worked. And I'm also feeling worthless for thinking that way. Because now when I think more about it, it feels like I'm thinking that the world revolves around me which pretty much doesn't. And I'm probably not making much sense either. But it is how it is. And I feel horrible about everything now."

His head falls back on the top of the backrest again when he finishes talking. He drops his right arm over his eyes hiding almost the entire face of him from me. I take a long moment to find out the right thing to say. Nothing really comes out as right. I'm feeling this serious urge to find Ryker and destroy him in every possible way. But I don't think saying that to Felix now is going to help him feel better in any way. So, I try something else instead. "Felix, do you need a hug?" 

Screw whether he does anything first or not. He looks like he needs one. And if he needs anything I'm capable of giving, I am giving it to him no matter what.

His reaction, however, is more amusing than anything. He drops his hand from his eyes almost instantly and stares up at me with wide eyes and lips slightly parted. The shocked expression on his face is almost comical. I stifle the urge to snicker as he keeps staring at me like I said he is gonna grow another head. Somehow, he manages to ask, "Sorry, what did you just say?"

A chuckle slips past my mouth this time. His expression is so genuine that I end up laughing. In between laughter, I manage to say, "I asked if you wanted a hug. Why do you look so damn shocked?"

He jumps up almost instantly. "The fact that you are asking me if I want to hug you is really insulting. I would always want to hug you. I love hugging you. But are you comfortable enough to hug me?"

"I wouldn't ask it if I weren't." I shrug trying to shrug off the fact that he is moving closer. Of course, my heart is not getting the sign as it keeps hammering at my ribcage.

"Makes sense." He shrugs as well and then a slow, almost teasing smile forms on his lips. His golden orbs twinkle in newfound interest. He spreads his arms wide and asks with a toothy grin, "So, shall we?"

I flash him a smile throwing myself into his arms. He wraps them around me and squeezes tightly. The familiar masculine cologne engulfs me as I spread my palms on his back and pull my chin upon his shoulder. He buries his head on my hijab-covered neck and inhales sharply making me shudder with the noise.

"Feeling good now?" I ask, trying to fight back another shiver when I feel his hands moving downwards until they are settled near the area between my ribcage and my waist.

He pulls me even closer hearing my question and starts rubbing his nose on my neck. He reminds me of a cat. I retrieve one of my hands from his back and put it on his head to stop him. It's tickling me.

"Mhm, so good. You feel like........home." His mumbling is so incoherent that I'm sure I wouldn't hear if he wasn't mumbling right by my ear. It's as if he is talking to himself.

I don't say anything in reply. We stay like this for a few more seconds. No words are shared but that doesn't mean we are engulfed in silence. I'm hearing the sound of rapid heartbeats in my ears. I can't say for sure if it's his or mine. Or maybe it's both of us.

His breathing starts getting heavier and I notice his hands are moving again. Slowly, very slowly. Is he trying to be subtle about it? Is he seriously thinking that I won't notice his hands moving on my skin? Or is that a subconscious thing he is doing?

His hands are on my waist when I finally decide to break the silence. "Felix."

His hands stop abruptly. A deep breath and he replies, "Mhm?"

"How much sober you are?"

A second of silence. Then a vibrating chuckle. "You are the one who said I'm drunk."

His hands start moving again. He is not trying to be subtle about it this time. Somehow, his fingers brush my spine and I visibly shiver.

"Aren't you?" Damn, even my voice is shaking.

I don't know if I'm imagining this but I swear I feel him smiling. He mumbles in my hijab again. "Mhm."

He noticed my reaction to his touch earlier because his fingers brush my spine again. This time, they stay longer than before. I bite my lips to suppress the shudder.

"How much?" I try to distract him from touching me to back into the conversation not knowing exactly how successful I'm going to be.

He pauses, taking a moment to think. "I may have drunk three or four glasses of wine?" The doubt is too evident in his voice.

"And how much would make you drunk?"

He pulls away this time. Not fully. He just pulls back enough to look me in the eye. The distance between us is so close that I highly doubt even my fist won't fit in the gap between our faces. From this close, I smell the alcohol in his breath. His red-rimmed eyes hold so much intensity that my breath somehow gets caught in my throat.

"Why are you asking me that?" I don't know if he intentionally did this or if it's just me imagining things but somehow his voice sounds unnecessarily seductive. And believe me when I say, from this close to a person, it's impossible to not look at their lips, even more, when they are this beautiful, plump and soft and-

I clear my throat to recollect my thoughts. "Because....... I have a reason. Let me change the question. You said you remembered bits and pieces of the night you drank a whole bottle of bourbon. "

He tilts his head a little to the side, eyes flashing with confusion. That intense look is somewhat mild now. "Yeah?"

"What will you remember tomorrow?" My traitorous eyes fall back down his mouth where he is wetting his lips with his tongue. Something hot floods through the inside of my body. I can feel the heat rising up my neck.

"What do you plan on doing?" I'm not imagining it this time. He has changed his tone. His words come out raspier, almost like a breathless whisper. And he is doing it intentionally. His eyes are back with their heated gaze.

"Just.......answer the question." Did I stutter? Damn, just what are you doing to me, Felix?

This time, it is he who looks down at my lips. Again, his tongue runs over his own. Briefly, he looks back into my eyes and mumbles, "I won't remember anything."

I instantly know what is going through his mind and that he just lied to me. He is sober enough to remember everything that's happening now and will happen in the next few...... as long as it takes to pass the heated tension between us. He would remember every fucking detail.

"That's a lie," I whisper feeling the tension only growing. I'm not sure if it's me or if it's him but one of us surely has moved closer as now our noses are beyond the point of touching. We are so close that one wrong move and we would kiss each other.

Felix rasps against my lips, "But it's a good one if it makes you kiss me."

Damn, that's exactly what I was thinking. Still, the way he says it makes me jump back instantly. Cheeks flushed, I turn into a defensive mode instinctively. "What? No, I didn't...I mean-"

He lets me move back only a little. With his arms still caging me, he tilts his head to the side and gives an almost convincing innocent look. "You didn't want to kiss me?"

He is acting like that's the most common thing for us to do, as if we kiss regularly. I look away mumbling, "Of course not."

His tone changes into a smug one. "But the way you are touching me says otherwise." 

That makes me look back at him. Of course, he has a smug smile on his face. I look down and find with horror that at some point during this whole time, I have moved my hands. One of them is lying flat under his collarbone but the other is under his ear, palm brushing his jaw and fingertips teasing his hair.

My whole face flames up and my heart jumps up to my throat. Of course, my first reaction is to retrieve my hands. But his hand covers mine that is on his jaw before I can pull away. He presses it back there and leans his face towards my touch. Closing his eyes, he mutters, "No, don't do that. Keep touching me and I won't ask for anything else."

Gooseflesh covers my skin. I don't know if it's even possible for me to blush anymore but I do exactly that. Still, somehow he manages to pull a smile out of me. "You are a shameless idiot."

He opens his eyes and flashes me a heart-stopping smile of his own. "I'm your shameless idiot."

And I realize that's what he wanted to say this morning in the car before he started that fake cough. Now alcohol in his system has made him bold enough to do that. 

"Have I told you how beautiful you look when you blush for me?" His hand reaches my face, fingertips brushing over my cheekbone. The look of admiration in his eyes is too much for me to bear. 

I snap at him playfully, "Shut up! I'm not blushing."

"Yes, you are." He places his hand back on my waist and tags me back against his chest. Unnecessarily, his voice drops an octave. "And you should blush more often."

I remove the golden-brown strands that are covering the side of his forehead and tuck them behind his ear. That's when I notice his ear is warmer than it is supposed to be. A satisfied smile crosses my lips. So, I am not the only one getting affected by our intimacy.

"The last time you were drunk, you told me to smile often. Now, to blush often. What's next?" I start wiggling my eyebrows and notice how it's something unnatural for me to do.

Felix lets out a deep and rumbling laugh, tilting his head back. A loud and carefree one. A laugh that always manages to put a smile on my face. 

He looks back down at me after the laughter dies down. His honey-dripping orbs hold a teasing gleam in them as he comments, "You intend to see me drunk again."

I roll my eyes for the first time in the night. "You know what I mean."

He tilts his head again in confusion. "No, I don't." A pause. Then he continues with a shrug, "You are never honest with yourself, so I don't know what you mean. Maybe next time, I will tell you to be more honest."

I shake my head. "You are way smoother with your words when you are drunk than when you are sober."

All of a sudden, he drops his head on my shoulder. His next words come out as soft whispers. "It seems you are starting to have fantasies about drunk me."

I chuckle softly running my fingers through his silky hair. "You wise."

A long pause. I almost think that he won't say anything else when his mumbling reply comes, "I wish so much more than fantasies when it's concerning you."

His words come out slower and rougher than the way he was talking until now. It's as if he has just woken up or he is falling asleep. I almost jolt up when the realization hits me. Is he falling asleep on me?

"Felix, are you-" 

The sound of soft snoring from him cuts me off and confirms my thoughts. He actually fell asleep on me. What do I do with him now?