Always Romira

Chapter 5

Akira

I turn to him when he comes to stand in front of the seat opposite of mine. He is in black three piece suit, looking like a handsome devil. I recognise the darkness lurking behind his onyx eyes, I used to see it in Romero's eyes, the only difference is he hides his better than Romero. Rom doesn't really hide them but revel in his darkness where as Damon conceals his in a fake facade.

I wonder for a fleeting moment what kind of demons are chasing him. Then he smirks cockily, noticing me stare him as he elegantly fix his form on the seat. The thing is, he is hot and he knows it and is confident about it. There is no vulnerability in his demeanor and I highly doubt he ever let himself expose in other's eyes.

"Hello, Mr. Ross." I offer him my hand professionally, not knowing how else to greet him.

Amusement fills his eyes and he takes my hand for a shake as if humouring me. "Hello Akira, Damon is just fine."

A waiter appears on our table, "Would you like to order now, sir?"

Damon points toward me. Ah a gentleman. I give a small smile to waiter, "A hot chocolate, please." Its cold and hot chocolate would help me.

"Black coffee for me." Damon orders his.

Figured, I roll my eyes. What's with rich people and their black coffee?

I watch the waiter leave and then Damon, "I want to know what your reasons are for stalking me but first tell me when did King talk to you?"

He c***s his perfect black brows, assessing me, "You boyfriend or should I say ex-boyfriend?"

My heart clenches painfully at the remainder. I'm still not able to accept this reality that Romero is no longer mine. "That's none of your business." I snap.

"I am not apologizing for it." He tells me, his lips thinning in a line. I'm sure he is not used to people talking to him like that.

"I don't expect you to. Just answer the damn question." I'm irritated, all the tiredness of the day are catching me.

He stays silent for few moments before opening his mouth, "He reached out for me a day before your birthday."

He knows my birthday? Why am I not surprised? He probably investigated me just like Romero did. Don't these people understand the meaning of privacy? Maybe its not in their dictionary but it sure as hell in mine and I don't like my privacy getting invaded.

And I don't understand why Romero never told me about it. He promised he would tell me if he knew anything.

And you promised you'd never leave him. What about that?

I had to break my promise and I have a good reason for it. It's not like I deliberately broke my promise, it was the situation that made me do that.

Keep telling yourself.

I ignore that voice when the waiter returns with our order. I thank him and take a sip of my freshly made hot chocolate.

"Are you going to tell me those reasons of yours for violating my privacy?"

He sighs, "I will answer you after you tell me what happened you. You look nothing sort of the girl I met in that exhibition."

I smile drily, "How exactly did I look then and how do I look now?"

"You were full of life that evening. Your eyes were dancing with happiness and you were vibrating with joyous energy."

I was drunk that time, drunk in love of Romero.

My smile disappears, "And how am I looking now?"

He searches my eyes for something and looks disappointed, "Dead."

I blink at the harshness and the hard truth in that one word, "What?"

I feel dead.

"You are looking dead, as if you have lost the will to live. What happened to you? Is it because of your ex-boyfriend?" He looks genuinely concern and I couldn't say it's not his business.

No. It's because of my own doing.

"Life happened." I shrug as if it's not a big deal.

But it is a big deal. It is about my life. Romero is my life. And without a life a person is just a corpse. A walking, and talking corpse.

"Look I'm probably not the right one to give you any advice but I know one thing, a person should not make another person their world, it's toxic. It limits their life by depending on one another and eventually they forget how to live alone in the real world. I understand-"

"Have you been in love, Damon?" I stop him in mid sentence, my almost invisible temper is riled up.

He appears taken back but then recovering quickly, he crosses his arm in defensive gesture, "No."

"Then no, you don't f*****g understand what it's like to love someone! You don't understand what I went through! You don't understand what it's like to watch the love of your life on a hospital bed, knowing you're the reason for it! You don't understand how much it hurts to walk away from your other half, even if it is for their own good! You don't understand a s**t so do not dare to feed me with that crap!" I burst out with all the emotions bubbling up, the dominant of them is frustration.

"Akira, calm down." Damon demands with a low firm voice that forces me to halt.

I then notice few people have turned in our direction with curious gaze, while Damon isn't looking a bit bothered but his eyes are different story, it's filled with concern for me. I close my eyes, taking deep breaths to calm down before opening them again. "I'm sorry for my outburst, I've had a long day and I'm drained out."

He waves my apology off, "You are right. I don't understand any of the situation you've been through but what I understand is you are still in your past, trapped in your memory and you don't want to come out. You know why?"

I stop breathing when his black eyes peer into my soul, "Because you are now addicted to the pain it gives you." I quickly look away, feeling exposed.

How does he know what I'm still not able to accept? How could he see what turmoil is going inside me? How could he know I've become too comfortable with the pain that I don't want to leave it?

"Who are you?" I question him, the words holding more meaning than it seems.

"I'm your brother." He says it so simply as if it's nothing.

"What?" I whisper numbly, hoping I heard him wrong.

He straightens up in his seat, "Let me rephrase, I'm your half brother. We share same father. He is the reason I had my people watching you, he wants to find out everything about you. He and we all have waited years to be part of your life and now-"

The same darkness that took my family in it appears behind his shoulders glaring me, as though they are determined to make me face them, confront them but I will die before I give into it.

I will never go back to visit that day.

"The man you are talking about is no father of mine. My daddy is dead." I tell him, my voice icy cold. I take out a five dollar from my purse and put it on table before getting up from my seat.

Pausing a beat, I fix my eyes on his calculating one, "Don't try to contact me again, Mr. Ross, and I'll will try to forget this encounter as a terrifying nightmare." Then I find myself walking out of door.

"Akira wait!" I hear Alex's voice.

I don't stop but slower my pace until he is walking beside, "Are you okay? Who was that man and what did he do? You look pale." He rushes out in a breath, reaching out to touch my arm.

I shake out of his hold, "Alex, I appreciate your concern for me. I really do but I am not condition to answer anyone. I want to be alone, please."

His steps falters, "Oh okay. Take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything."

"Thank you." I say, grateful that he has dropped his insistence. That's what I like about him, he doesn't force himself on others, well apart from that one time. 

I continue my walking when all the hints suddenly makes sense. Like why did he look so familiar the first night we met, or why did I feel a connection with him, or why did I feel I could trust his words. He is splitting image of his father. A pair of onyx eyes flashes in my memory.

"Akira, come here. Someone's here to meet you." Grandma calls from front door.

I lay in my bed for few more seconds before getting up. Today is my birthday, I'm turning twelve, I don't want to celebrate but my shrink said I should, he said it would lift my energy. Nothing but the presence of my dead family could lift my spirit. I miss them everyday but on special occasions the pain intensifies. I just want to spend my day in my bed with book and the passage of memory lane.

Logan is adamant on celebrating this day, he sneaked in my room with a cake last night. He insisted to go to a game club together, I said no, so the i***t complained to grandma and now I've to go as well. Thanks to her talk with my doctor, I have no doubt he's some hand in it.

I go down the stairs and notice a tall man standing in the middle of living room. Grandma is seated on a couch with a scowl on her face. Her lips form a fake smile on seeing me.

"Come child, this is Dean. He is here to wish you."

I look back to the man who is staring me unblinkingly with his black eyes. They looks scary and highly intimidating. I walk in further, "Hello."

The sound of my voice seems to bring him him out trance, "Happy birthday sweetheart." His hands shakes as he picks up a big wrapped box and moves forward to hand it over to me, "This is for you."

I glance to my grandma, asking if I should take it or not, once she nods in approval, only then I accept it, "Thank you." I speak shyly.

"Take it to your room and come back after changing your clothes." Grandma points to my room.

I frown, "Are we going somewhere?"

I thought I would be spending my day with Logan.

She tenses slightly, "No, you are."

"But what about Logan-"

"We will talk about it later. Now go."

I look back to Dean who is still watching me and start to climb upstairs. Once out of their sight, I stop walking when I hear his next word that is directed to her.

"You said she is okay but she does not look okay to me. I believe she is still not over that accident and a change of scenario would help her." 

"You are not taking her! I only agreed for you to spend sometime with her, not to take her away from me. If you try, I will call the cops!" Grandma shouts.

I hear Dean snort, "And just what would you tell them? That I'm taking my own daughter with me? I assure you my lawyers are good enough to grant her custody to me."

My father? The same man who caused my family's death?

I run back down, "No! I'm not coming with you and you are not my father. You killed him and you killed my family. I hate you!" I scream at him throwing the box down. "Don't come back in my home and in my life again or I will run away!"

I sprint in my room, and lock myself in it, crying until sleep overtakes me.

I remember that day now. Even after so many years a part of me still blames that man for my family's death, the part that still holds me guilty for the same. I don't hate him anymore, hating would mean I care, when in real I don't.

Its the ten year old child in me that blames him, she think if he didn't come to home that day nothing would have happened. She would have never heard the truth and wouldn't have run out. Her family would not have to go after her and that accident would have never occurred.

The grown up me knows that it wasn't his fault, I know everything happens for a reason and I believe in it. But even knowing it wouldn't make me accept that man in my life. I have had one father and he is dead.

I shake my head to get rid of these thoughts. Just as I turn around the corner, I stop dead. I haven't seen him since Sydney's party and now I see him.

Romero.

But I wish I didn't.

Because he is not alone.

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