The Moment We Met (Chapter-36)

 

Maisara's pov

How can a person not see what is right in front of her? Well, that's a rather interesting question, considering my situation. But I'm wondering about it practically. Like when someone is walking or running, how can they not see a whole-ass another person standing in front of them and bumping straight into them? That's a pretty common meet-cute scene in novels and I always thought of them as ridiculous no matter how much I loved that novel. To be honest, I didn’t exactly believe them to be happening in real life. Until that's exactly what I did.

The person I ran into lets out a loud 'uff' falling on the ground with me on top of him. And that's when I realize I've run straight into a person.

Though it could be anyone else, I have decided that it would be really nice to bump into the only person I was avoiding at all costs.

One of his hands automatically finds its way to my waist. The familiar rich scent, the familiar tone, and the familiar warmth of his body against mine make me shudder involuntarily. It requires a shameful amount of energy to jump back from him and create a decent amount of distance between us.

I hope he doesn't notice any of that. It seems impossible as he is staring right into my soul. I haven't even glanced in his direction and I can feel his eyes all over me like a warm blanket covering me on a winter night. 

What the fuck am I even thinking? 

I proceed to get up keeping my eyes down on my gown to avoid stepping on it and absolutely not to avoid looking at him. How can I get out of here without any further interaction with him? Is that even possible? 

The thumping heart in my chest definitely disagrees. As I manage to gather the skirt of my gown in one hand, I hear him calling my name, "Maisara?"

The way he says it makes things way more difficult. His tone is a mixture of confusion and disbelief as though he is not entirely sure if it's really me or if he's hallucinating. I cringe inwardly. Now I most certainly cannot walk away without any interaction.

"Who else?" I try to keep my voice as casual as possible but even I can feel an edge to it. There is no way he is gonna miss it. He notices every fucking thing, after all.

"What are you-" He doesn't even get to finish his sentence before I let out a grunt as a sharp pain shoots through my left ankle when I try to get up. 

"Maisara!" This time his tone is alarmed. Almost instantly, I feel his fingers touching the side of my face and tilting it. And then I'm staring into his amber eyes.

So much for not having any interaction. 

I try to resist the urge to shiver at his touch and fail miserably. How can I when my heart yearns for this very thing so much more than I'm willing to admit?

He is leaning over me, looking down, his eyes searching my face. And I'm again lost in his eyes, like the first time I saw them up close. The yellowish light in the hallway casts a shadow over his face, turning his light brown orbs into a much darker shade. His eyes are red-rimmed. He has developed dark circles beneath them. His jaw is covered with dark stubble, which I have never seen on him. His highlighted hair has grown, golden locks lesser than the last time I saw him, tips almost touching my face. I remember them brushed back when I saw him earlier, not this disheveled. What happened? 

Hypocritic question. I already know what happened. I can see it as clear as daylight now that I'm looking up at him this close. The evidence of what mental torture I've put him through is clear as crystals. I shudder at the thought of what more pain I'm going to cause him. 

"Where are you hurt?" he asks in a voice so gentle that breaks my heart all over again. I feel sorrow and rage at the same time, for him, for me, for the whole situation we are in. How nice it would be if we were in a different circumstance, one that isn't so much against us!

"Don't touch me," I hiss out, slapping away his hand that's on my face. The surprise that crosses over his face is an exact reflection of what I am feeling. I have planned to act cold towards him but never thought I would be this good at acting.

I swear I'm prepared for what can happen in a situation like this. I have been preparing myself since the moment I started planning all of this, including the plan of cutting him out of my life. No matter how much I deny it, he has some sort of attachment to me. And it will require a significant amount of effort for me to actually get both of us out of.......whatever relationship that is between us. I have prepared myself for that. I am well aware of the pain I'm going to inflict upon him. 

Still, the sheer evidence of the pain on his face is unbearable. When the confusion wears off, he looks like I've just stabbed him with a knife in his gut. To my surprise, he manages to mask that expression quickly, which is unlikely for him. His eyes still look pained though, as he retreats his hand back to himself.

If he wants to respond to my harsh words, he doesn’t go for that. His eyes roam over my body once before settling back to my face. "You’re hurt. Where?" He says more slowly this time as if talking to a toddler. 

"Left ankle." I gesture to my ankle with my chin, trying to move and sit in a better position without moving my injured organ much.

He kneels beside my legs, reaching out his hand. I flinch. His eyes travel back to mine. "I'm not touching you." He clarifies, his face hard. I don't say anything.  

He pulls it up enough to reveal my ankles and watches them for a few uncomfortable moments. Then his other hand travels to grab the outsole of my left heel and gently tilts it. I swear he has done it so slowly yet the speed of pain I feel shooting through my ankle perfectly matches the speed of light. I cry out making him wince and leaving my heel. 

He clears his throat. "Doesn’t seem like you will be able to walk by yourself any moment soon." 

His eyes meet mine again, lips pressed together like he doesn’t know whether he should say the next words or not. He goes for them anyway. "Do you want me to-"

He doesn’t even get to finish the sentence before I harshly cut him off. "No!" Then, with a futile attempt to make the situation better, I add, "I will call my friend for help."

He moves back to shift his weight from his legs to his ass, his eyes holding the same heartbroken expression. I look away, acting busy, fumbling the pockets in my gown to grab my phone. I need to call Vicky to get me from here after all.

I feel him shifting beside me, getting closer, his eyes on me. Then he whispers one word, "Why?" And if anything about him up until didn’t break me enough, it just did. 

I swear I've never imagined his voice so shaky, so broken, so desperate. One word and I heard all the underlying things he didn’t voice out. Why don't you want me to touch you? Why are you acting this way? Why are you cutting me off? Why don't you talk to me anymore? Why did it go this way all of a sudden? Why can't we be just happy together and have our happy endings? Why? Why? Why?

"Because"–I close my eyes and lean my head against the stone wall behind me–"I have recently become trouble-prone, thanks to a certain idiot rubbing it off on me." I mean to stop here but then I don't know what comes to my mind, I add, "Also because I have sworn to keep the idiot safe."

To my surprise, I hear him chuckling. Prying my eyes open, I shoot him a look, only to get awed by him. I realize that I have seen him so long ago that I forgot how beautiful his smile is. He once complimented my smile, not knowing his is a hundred times better. I probably would compliment his smile if we were in the same setting three weeks ago. But now things have changed.

His smile falls though, when his eyes meet mine. 

"What?" he asks and I notice his tone is not as clipped as it was a few moments ago. I shake my head, looking away and fixing my eyes to the opposite grey wall in front of us. "Nothing."

Silence prevails. I'm not entirely sure if it's comfortable or uncomfortable. My inner battle with myself doesn’t let me have peace anywhere anyway. But now sitting beside him and having his company, I realize that I have forgotten all the chaos I was in before I crushed into him. All those problems don't seem that vital either.

I see something in my peripheral view and glance down to find a phone sliding my way. I look up at him in question. He shrugs. "You were gonna call your friend for help. Since you can't seem to find yours"–He gestures to my hands that are still in my pocket– "You may use mine."

I shake my head, leaning it against the wall. "I don't wanna go back there." 

I haven’t really thought about it before saying that to him out loud. Now it seems like a better option. Though I need to stay away from him, I don't find it in myself to get out of this comforting environment and face the chaos outside. I know my sprained ankle is just an excuse but I still want to use it to stay with him a little longer. I will take whatever I can get out of this situation despite denying it so much. Isn’t it interesting how weak I am inside when I claim to be so strong on the outside? 

Felix shrugs, pulling his phone back to himself and shoving it into his pocket. "Well, I can't leave a wounded person behind. My mom taught me better than that. So, I would like to stay here too if you don't shoo me away."

That's an excuse on his behalf. We both know that. Still, I don't find it in myself to shoo him away. I turn my head to the opposite wall and close my eyes again. "Do whatever you want."

A few moments of silence. I don't know where exactly we are in the mansion. I can't hear anything here. No sounds of guests, no car noises, nothing. You can't even tell from here that a wedding is happening here. It’s so quiet that I can hear his steady breathing beside me along with my own heartbeat. I will probably be able to hear his heartbeat as well if I pay more attention. 

Felix breaks the silence. "Will I ever get to know what went wrong? Or will we ever go back to what we were?"

He asks the questions so casually like he is asking what's the weather forecast, like it's an everyday conversation, like it didn’t nearly destroy him at all. I let out a long sigh, my heart heavy on my chest. "Honestly, I don't know," I reply with my voice as small as possible. 

What I don't tell him is that he is the one who will not bother to talk to me anymore after Ryker succeeds with his plan. And right now, I have no way to stop him. 

He hums in response as if he understands everything. I don't bother to say anything. I don't bother telling him this might be the last time we can have a moment like this. Things are gonna change forever and I will once again fail to keep someone I cherish. Just like I always did.