Always Romira

Chapter 3

Akira

Akira.

He's said Akira, not Ray.

Jesus, my heart!

It drops down to his feet, begging him silently to take his words back even if it knows how impossible this is.

The hard truth guts me cruelly. I'm not his Ray and he is not my Romero, not anymore.

I want to weep at the loss I'm feeling right now. The loss has been here for past three months but no pain, nothing compares to it. The intensity, force and impact nearly brings me to my knees.

I feel his eyes on my back and will myself to turn around. I don't want to, I want to disappear from here to my room, where I know my self loathing would be waiting for me.

I stifle a gasp when I come face to face with him. He is enchantingly beautiful. God knows how much I miss looking him knowing it's my right but now, I don't have that right. Christ! He is near, oh so near, his addicting scent reaches my nostril making me dizzy. All the memories where I would launch my body on him to inhale him, to feel him, to know he is real, flows in my mind.

"What? Got nothing to say?" He is mocking but I can't see what he is feeling. He has turned off his emotions or concealed them with a barrier I can't cross now.

"Romero." I breath out a single word but its not what I want to say.

I want to tell him that I love him, I missed him, I ache for him, I crave him, I need him. I want to scream them at top of my lungs, I am dying to say that I hate myself for leaving him, even if it's for him, that I hate him for taking those drugs, I hate his BPD for yanking me away from him, I hate Slade for making me watch the reality of the situation.

"Sydney said you'd not be here." I manage to say without a hitch, or so I think.

His lips curl in humourless smirk, "That's why you came here, didn't you? Thinking you wouldn't have to face your mistake. Now look, your mistake himself came to face you. How does it make you feel?"

Sad.

Anguish.

Tormented.

Pathetic.

Destroyed.

Several words swirl in the back of my head but none comes close to touching my tongue. Its irony, really, the one person I thought I would share my everything is now the person I couldn't say my feelings.

He says mistake. If he was a mistake then I would make it again and again. He'd be my most beautiful mistake and I would be proud to bear the title of its maker. But he is not a mistake, he is my something I don't have word for. No dictionary has invented the word yet and I doubt they could ever.

"I know you are angry with me. Slade said-"

"f**k that bastard. You think you know everything, don't you? But guess what? You don't know a shit." His voice never once rises up, he speaks evenly as if he is bored. His eyes never once gain the looks he used to give me before.

And I realise I can't do this. I can't watch him treat me as if I'm some stranger to him. As if we never made love before, as if we didn't see each other at their worst.

"I have to go." I mutter and step aside to move pass him.

I should have known better. I should have known it's impossible to dismiss him like he does to everyone. He is a force that makes its way anywhere and anytime he desires.

Before I could take a single step away from him, he has me in his arms and his lips on mine.

The moment his lips touch my own I lost it. All the control I was practicing to stay away from him breaks at that very moment. Fire erupts in my lower belly, my whole body experience the sensation of familiarity. Almost immediately I latch myself to him, my arms clamp around his neck and return the kiss.

Goodness!

I missed his kisses.

This kiss is unlike any other kissed we've shared. It is filled with anger, desperation and pain. His lips move furiously as though he is starved for it, like he has been dying to taste them. I close my eyes and respond with same intensity because I know I'm starving for him. I let go all the pent up emotions I've been holding. I forget everything in that kiss, I forget I should be running away from him instead of clinging to him like he is my only lifeline.

"Always trying to leave me." He murmurs gruffly between kiss as his arm tightens on my waist and he pulls me closer.

The kiss becomes brutal, punishing but I don't care. All I care I'm in his arm, and that itself feels like being home after a long time. I reciprocate it, punishing him as well, I moan when he sucks my tongue and bites my lower lip. I bite him right back and hear him groan. I can feel his hardness against me.

Jesus!

I love him so much that it's hurting me, choking me, making me empty.

"I love you, Romero." I couldn't hold the words from coming out.

Suddenly he shoves me away as if struck by my confession. I open my eyes to find him glaring at me. The fire diminishes instantly and my stomach churns painfully. It leaves a acidic tastes on my heart to see him looking at me with so hostility. While I'm gasping for breath, he isn't looking affected.

He backs away, still glaring, "I won't. Not again. This time you will."

What?

"Damn you, woman!" Snarling, he lungs back toward me and kisses me again. With same fury, he lingers with me for few more seconds before vanishing into air.

One minute I was kissing him and next he's disappeared just like all my imaginary Romero would do. There is no sign of him being here, it's as though he never came after me.

I would have believed it was my hallucination, if not for the throbbing of my lips and trembling of my body. He really was here and he really did kiss me for I could still taste him and detect his scent on me.

'I won't. Not again. This time you will.'

What did he mean by it?

Did he mean this time I am going to suffer? If so then he'd like it to know that I'm already suffering, that I'm already in hell.

I let out a laugh without a trace of humour in it. He wants me to suffer. The man I love, the same person who would move heaven and earth just so I wouldn't face a slightest of trouble, wants me to feel the pain he is feeling as if I'm not having it ten times worse.

Shaking my head I wipe my eyes sensing them wet. I don't even realise I was crying.

Oh Romero if only you know what could I do for you to look at me the same way you used to. The look filled with so much love that would make me hard to breath.

My phone rings somewhere, I glance around and find my purse on the ground. Picking it up I pull out my phone to see an unknown number. I am about to reject it but then I think maybe this call would get my mind off him, even for few minutes.

Sliding the screen I answer it, "Hello." My voice comes hoarse.

"Are you okay?" Deep voice from other side is filled with concern.

I clear my throat, "Excuse me? Do I know you?"

"But I know you, Miss Ray. Though you have met me if you remember. Damon Ross." There is hint of amusement, I think.

Oh I remember him. He was at the exhibition and was deliberately provoking Romero. He had said something odd that day if I recall correctly.

'You shouldn't be sad.'

I also remember Romero telling me about him.

"Demon Ross? The man from the exhibition?"

"Yes, the same handsome man." I could almost picture him smirking.

"Yeah handsome and creepy." I scoff. What an arrogant piece of crap! Still I have to admit he was good looking from what I could remember.

He chuckles, "So your boyfriend told you about that?"

I don't bother to correct him that Romero is my ex-boyfriend.

Oh do I hate that word.

"Why are you keeping tabs on me?" I come to the point.

"I'm not. Well not since your boyfriend warned me off."

What?

Romero never said a word about it. Why?

Was it after I left him?

"He did?" I ask, surprised.

"Oh yes he did and he was not very polite about it, not even when I told him my reasons. You sure have picked a piece of work, Akira." He says my name with a familiarity. I don't even know the man.

"What reasons?" I couldn't hold my curiosity.

"Not something to discuss on phone. I would like to meet you personally for this."

What if he has some utter motive? Could I trust him, knowing he had his guys following after me for God knows what reason?

The answer is no but my curiosity gets better of my rationality.

"When?" I find myself asking.

"I will fly over there next weekend. Does that sound okay to you?"

No, it doesn't. I am not very patience person.

"Yeah but I get to decide the place." I say, wanting to have some control over the situation. I'm not going with this stranger anywhere. Though I don't know why he doesn't feel like a stranger.

"Fair point. I'll call you when I get there."

I pause for a second before adding, "Could I trust you."

He answers right away, tone full of conviction, "With your life."

Now, I wouldn't go that for, even if a part of me for somewhat reason seems to believe him.

"Okay." I am about to hang up when he stops me.

"Wait, you didn't answer me. Are you okay?"

Am I okay?

I snort, "Just peachy." I end the call. Just because he has something on me, doesn't mean I'm going to cry my life to him.

Am I okay though?

No I'm not.

I haven't been okay for three months. I haven't been okay since the moment I made decision to leave Romero.

And after today it feels like I'm never going to be okay.

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