All in all, this day was the best representation of
ultimate success. Not only did Tristan manage to make scrambled eggs, he made
two servings of it, plus, he baked chocolate chip cookies for the first time
ever, and mixed his best iced tea, so far. He had a special love for iced tea,
but he couldn’t quite explain it. It just like the everyday normal tea, just…iced.
He also loved cookies. He had a jarful of them now
and was confident that he could make more.
“D’you want that, uh, what’s that channel – ”
“NatGeo?”
“No, the other one – ”
“Star Movies?” she guessed again.
“Yeah, that’s the one.” Tristan replied, smiling. He
lightly played with the strands of her dark chocolate hair, his arms around the
back of the recliner. They were cushioned together with the many pillows around
them, chewing cookies nonchalantly as they surfed the channels for something to
watch. He didn’t own much of DVDs, but that’s okay. Tristan felt like a
pharaoh.
“I don’t think I know this one…”
“Hmm?” he looked at her, then at where she was
staring at, “Oh, yeah. That’s a new movie. Heroes in Marvel doing their saving
the Earth thing in one film from one the god’s brother – Loki, I think. God of
mischief in – ”
“Norse mythology,” she supplied, animation seen
clearly in her eyes as she watched Iron Man and Thor in a fighting scene, “I
like it already. I haven’t watched anything in a long time.”
Of course she hadn’t. Tristan noted this with
sadness. The time when the Avengers movie and all the others were released, she
was in the hospital. She was just there, not even able to do anything to enjoy
herself at all.
“You took your pill already, right? The green one I
gave you?”
“Only half,” she said, completely riveted on the TV
screen.
He wasn’t even aware of it, but a small smile was on
his face as he looked down at her. Pulling her closer, he planted a kiss on her
temple, not even caring if it was inappropriate.
Reeya only stiffened for a moment, and then he felt
her muscles relax. She even leaned against him. When she rested her head on the
crook of his neck, he was tongue-tied. He couldn’t supress the chuckle that now
reverberated through him. Tristan was aware that the strings of restraint he’d
desperately clung on to was now useless, slowly moving away from his grip.
The most troubling part was that he was letting them
go.
5 hours later
It was raining hard.
Tristan kept checking the clock beside his lamp, but
he couldn’t see how it could still be 8:30 in the evening. The clouds were the
deepest shade of gray possible and the rain was relentless. It was driving him
insane. The funny thing was that it was because he wasn’t sure if he should go
to Reeya or not.
They’ve retired to their rooms earlier this day,
seeing was they were too spent on the day’s adventures. The young doctor
couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t like the thunder or the lightning,
and he wondered for the millionth time if it was okay to go to her room. Just
to comfort her and offer distraction from the noise outside.
“Drama queen.” he whispered to himself under his
breath. His gaze wandered to the window, and saw through the little uncovered
portion of the curtain the whole scene of the downpour. The plants and trees
were swaying to a very fast beat and a second later, a brilliant zigzagging
white light crashed upon the street.
Tristan jumped out of his skin as the thunder
boomed, rattling the windows of the whole house. He took deep breaths to calm
himself, but he knew it was no use.
Standing up, he paced around his room, wearing only
his bathrobe.
Go to her? Maybe
she –
No. She’ll think
you’re a creep.
She probably
needs me –
And she’ll call
when she does. Chill.
“I can’t chill,” he said through gritted teeth. Even
if it’s assistance of the most mundane things possible, he won’t hesitate to be
there for her. One shouldn’t ignore gut feeling, especially one this strong,
and who knew what was happening to –
The power went out. There was nothing but inky
blackness as the drone of every machine in the house slowly came to a stop.
“Damn it,” Tristan cussed as he automatically got
his bearings in the dark. His eyes adjusted, and now he could see the grayish
outlines of his furniture. That didn’t ease his anxiousness.
Heart pounding, he found his way out to the hallway,
ready to rush into her bedroom – albeit unannounced – when he bumped into
someone.
“Ow! I – Reeya?”
A small figure suddenly put its arms around his
torso really tight, buying its mane of hair on his chest.
“I don’t like thunder.”
Sighing with relief, Tristan returned her hug. “It’s
okay. We’ll get power again, they’ll fix it soon.”
“I don’t want to go out – ”
“We won’t go out, we won’t.” He smoothed her hair,
“Let’s just find a place to sit for a while, okay?” His statement was
immediately punctuated by a strike of lightning, and he heard her draw a quick
breath just before the thunder shook the house.
He held her tighter. “It’s okay, it’s just thunder.”
He kept whispering soothing things to her ear as he led the both of them to her
room, where he made them sit on the edge of the bed.
“No, just hold me – ”
“I don’t – ”
“Please?”
Hating himself for wanting it, he said, “Okay, come
here.”
He allowed her to sit on his lap, and he only fell
silent when she put her forehead against his neck like she did this afternoon.
What was there
to say, anyway?
Tristan’s state of self-resentment only deepened
when he noted the small details: the details that drove him crazy. Things like
how warm she felt against him, how noble he felt and seemed to be, with her depending
on him, and the way her puffs of breath tickled against his electrified skin.
Sum everything up with the fact that all he could see were gray outlines and
nothing more, resulted to his breaking point.
Reeya’s hands tightened with another peal of
incessant thunder, and of course, he had to do more stupid things.
He kissed her shoulder, and just stayed there, not
even bothering with his posture. “Thunder and rain are useful too, you know.” He
said quietly, in contrast with the hard rainfall of the on the pavement outside.
“I really don’t think so.”
“We won’t have your bluebells if not for the rain.” He
knew it was danger ground he was treading, mentioning the damned color, not to comment
the flowers in her painting which she smashed to pieces, but with everything so
dark and surreal, the moment seemed calm enough to bring it up.
She only sounded melancholy when she said to him, “A
little drizzle would be good enough for them. Storms are too much.”
“Then we wouldn’t have rainbows, he had to fight a
chuckle here, “Ring any bells?”
Tristan didn’t see it, but somehow, he sensed her
smile. It made him feel more triumphant than ever, knowing he was the one who
made her happy even if it’s just for a while.
“Tristan?”
“Yes?”
It was a minute before she actually said anything,
and that worried him, but not in the usual way. He was dreading what her
question would be. Whatever it is, he had a premonition it wasn’t anything
good. When he heard her respond, his heart nearly stopped,
“I think you like me.”
“I – of course I do.”
His chest felt heavy. The word was just too mild –
too common. A person can like a story, a movie, even clothes. What he felt for
her was different, way different.
But he didn’t want to voice it out. It meant
completely giving in, and he couldn’t handle that. Maybe not ever.
“No, I mean – just, I don’t know. You’re too…caring,
I think.”
“Others had been, too. Nika, Gab, the others.”
“They don’t spend money on me like you do.”
This made him chuckle despite the tension. Thinking
quickly, he replied, “That’s because I have a lot to spend.” And because nobody
ever made him feel the way she did.
“And now you’re avoiding my questions.”
He clenched his jaw. Trying to quell the wave of
anger aimed at himself, he lifted her head from her soft hair. He didn’t speak.
“Tristan?” she pulled back and held him by the shoulders,
“What’s wrong – ”
“Stop asking questions.”
She fell silent. The hurt she felt seemed magnified
in the words left unspoken by either of them.
Tristan had to swallow another tremor of resentment,
this time, it was aimed at her.
She had no
business getting hurt. It’s not like she feels what I feel.
“Hey, I’m sorry – ”
“No, it’s fine. This is nothing.”
“You don’t sound like it.”
Unable to resist t any longer, he raised her eyes to
meet hers. It was dark, but he could still make out her features, and he hated that. He tried to keep his gaze
hard, but it was difficult.
Damn you for
being perfect.
“So how do I sound like?”
“Really curt, and…angry.”
He didn’t even bother to reply. He felt too strung
up.
“Hey,” she touched his cheek.
“Stop,” Tristan breathed through his mouth, “don’t touch
me.” Aware of his trembling hand, he removed hers from his face. He hated himself
for feeling bereft, for instantly missing her touch. He hated himself for being
angry at her when she did nothing wrong.
He hated how he felt right now.
“I’m sorry.” she said.
“Don’t be.”
“If I did anything – ”
“No, you didn’t.” he answered, trying not to let her
hear how bitter the words meant to him, “You didn’t do anything.”
And that’s just
the problem, he wanted to say, you didn’t do anything and yet I fell in
love with you.
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