Matters of the Hart

Chapter 12 - The fifty-sixth edition of The Da Vinci Code.

Five days.

That was how long it had been since I had made the deal with the devil. Well, technically - he offered. I simply and very conveniently forgot to refuse.

To mention specifically - I'd say that there were both pros and cons to this 'month-long-friendship-that-could-turn-into-something-more' situation. By more, I mean from 'maybe friends' to 'definitely friends.' Nothing else.

The very thought had me up at nights, made me defy the concept of concentrating in class and had my subconscious chanting his name like a dark spell.

So, like the smart girl that I was (special emphasis on smart), I finally took the initiative to do something about my 'Nathaniel-induced-issues.

No, it's not what you're thinking.

To any regular person it might seem like a lunatic's brain acting up, but to me it was a step in the right direction. More like four steps from the foot of my little bed to my desk. Grabbing a pencil and a piece of paper, the aim was to have a nice little episode of over-dramatic pondering so I could finally get my head straight.

On accord, I started scribbling and in no more than five minutes, two important lists were made.

The pros. And the cons. The usual, that you'd find in a not-so-well hidden pink diary of a confused teenage girl. Only, I didn't keep a diary (too badass for that jazz), so loose sheets of paper would have to do it for me.

The first list: Pros of befriending the grey-eyed devil.

Hmm, let's see.

- Absolutely breath-taking eyes.

- He is Nathaniel Knight (must mean something).

- We used to be friends.

- Pays for my food (important, mark with a red sharpie).

- Is trying honestly (starred, confirmation awaited)

- I don't want to be a b***h (brownie points for me)

- Very, very, extremely sexy.

- Sometimes he is cute too (sort of).

- Doesn't smoke, doesn't drink.

- Pays for my food part 2 (feat. ice-cream)

- His hands feel nice (wait that sounds wrong). - Warm and comforting grip. (Perf)

- Smells reeeaaallllyyyy good.

- Paid for my waffles the other day.

- He...

Wait. This list was going on and on!

Damn it! Now how was I supposed to find an equal number of cons? All I could belch out were a couple of obvious ones:

- Smirks a lot.

- Eyes might take my breath away, literally. I could die.

- Rolls his eyes at me all the time (invalid, it's cute)

- He hurt me. (Bold font)

- Won't tell the truth (well, he did promise that he would).

- Umm...

Alright, just so we are clear, it was four in the morning and my mind wasn't working to the best of it's abilities. Not that I was favouring anyone. It was not like that. Absolutely not. Agreed, that staying up till the wee hours of the morning was weird, unnatural and out of character for me since I had a full day of pointless schooling ahead of me. But do you know what was weirder?

My phone screen lighting up just as I banged both my pencil and my head down on the brown desk.

***-***-**25: Hey

That's odd, I thought. I didn't have a lot of friends around school and it was highly unlikely that my number would automatically land in someone else's contact. Why would anyone text at four in the morning, anyway? Unless, it was a wrong number.

Three minutes of debating with my better-judgement, I opened the message to tap out a reply, only out of curiosity. It could be a kidnapper for all I know.

Who is this?

I placed my phone back on the desk, furrowing my eyebrows at it as I waited for a reply. It didn't come instantly, the reply. But there were two, one after the other.

***-***-**25: s**t.

***-***-**25: That hurt, Shortcake.

H-O-L-Y-F-U-C-K.

Those eight letters were absolutely not used for the reasons you're thinking. It was because I did the one thing that scared me the most- I dropped my phone, screen facing the cream marble flooring. My hands went up to my mouth, muffling all cries of horror as I watched the front edge of my iPhone 6 hit the ground with a loud, metallic thud.

Please don't break. Please don't break. Dad won't be too happy to buy me a new one. Ugh.

I let out shaken breaths soon after, in relief as as I retrieved my phone which was unscathed from the fall, simultaneously and cautiously watching for signs of any other human waking up from her slumber due to my mal-function.

With unstill fingers, I furiously typed back.

Did Noah give you my number?

***-***-**25: Nope. Noah gave it to Luke.

Remember when I said that I didn't have many friends, and that the chances of my number being circulated around was negative one? I take that statement back this instance.

And you went thru Luke's phone?

Luke had my number? Luke had my number.

Nate had my number? Nate had MY number!

What was next, Caleb?

Yeah, that would be a nightmare come true, Thea. I snorted, shrugging that thought off.

***-***-**25: Not saying I didn't go through* his phone.

The nerve of this guy...

Thief :/

My reply was not replied by another reply, and now I was completely babbling and using the word reply way too much. All of this, to ignore the little twitch of happiness in my stomach, making me very conscious of the fact that I was talking through text messages, to The Nathaniel Knight in the wee hours of a not-so-significant morning. The ultimately mush part of this was - I was not the one who initiated this conversation. Hell, at one point, I thought that hell would freeze over before I texted him again, ever.

Well, as it is clear, hell didn't freeze. But my brain must have.

***-***-**25: Why are you up?

My phone pinged again. I could ask him the same thing.

Couldn't sleep. What's your excuse?

Nope, don't judge me. I didn't just lie right there.

Fine, maybe I withheld a minor detail, but for obvious reasons. I couldn't just text him, 'Oh I couldn't sleep because I was busy making a list about you and all of your thousand plus good qualities...'

Nope. Not a thousand. Just a couple (multiplied by a hundred).

***-***-**25: Clearing my head.

Oh, Nathaniel. The fifty sixth edition of The Da Vinci Code. One I can never decode.

Oh? How's that working out for you?

Never in a million years had I thought that what happened next, would happen.

***-***-**25: So far, so good. The view is great so that's a bonus.

Nathaniel being Nathaniel, typical, mysterious, broody-butt, wanna-be bad boy yet again sent a very cryptic message first. My brows, as if permanently set on an 'automatic frown' mode, furrowed deeply while I chewed on my nail, thinking of what to reply. My initial plan was to settle for something short, sweet, safe. Something like a subtle 'hmm' or an 'oh' or a 'LOL'.

The curious soul of my non-existent pet kitten's soul had other plans in mind, though. That part of my existence was desperate for more - more words from him, more of his texts, more of his time. Somewhere in my heart, I knew that Nathaniel was a switch - he'd flip and I wouldn't find out.

All of this overthinking - in vain.

***-***-**25: Cute sweater, btw.

Alright, inner me. On the count of three.

Three, two, on—

WHAT THE HOLY KIT-KATS IN THE NAME OF JESUS WAS FUDGING HAPPENING!?

Was my room bugged?

I looked around frantically, looking for any and everything that even remotely resembled a small camera or a lens jutting out. But I couldn't locate anything. I read and re-read the message a good four times. My fashionably messy bun was now a messily messy bun. All thehair in my head was in a mess, half knotted, half falling onto my face and some held in my fingers, waiting to be uprooted by my act of frustration.

Just in that moment, my phone buzzed again: it's screen lighting up with another of his messages.

***-***-**25: Under your balcony.

OF-DUCKING-COURSE!

"Hi," he smiled up at me as I jumped to my left, the railing just hitting above my chest.

"What are you doing here?!?!" I looked around my room, relieved that no one was yet aware of the commotion that this night had become.

The irony was that the commotion was everywhere- in my head, my hair, my stomach, my heart - yet, the air around us was eerily silent. I, with my wide, panicked, eyes looking at that grey-eyes jerk. The twinkle of in his eyes looked very similar to an anticipation of mischief, the unparalleled smirk put in the curve of his lips.

Level one wasn't too high above the ground and with some lanterns lit along the little pavement, the shine in his eyes and the 'come here' motion of his finger was clear as day.

"WHAT? No!" I whispered-yelled (Only God knows what that was), ridiculing his idea at an arm's length away.

Nate's collected expression didn't waver, like he was expecting that reaction out of me.

"Fine, then I'll just have to come get you," he shrugged, placing one shoe-clad foot on the edge of the bark of the huge tree, the branches of which hung mere centimetres away from the balcony. By that, I meant that if Nathaniel were to climb up that tree (had I mentioned before that he practices Parkour?), then he'd have direct access to my bed.

I meant - my room.

"You wouldn't." I dare, narrowing my intentful eyes at his running shoe that camouflaged well with wooden bark. He wouldn't, right?

He shrugged again, taking proper stance to place his other foot near the first one as he clung to the higher branched for support. That would have been some sexy flexing of the muscles. Too bad, it was for that black hoodie that kept everything hidden. And I was easily distracted again.

He was almost onto one of the higher branches when I finally realised that this boy wasn't kidding when he said he'd come up here. I had to oblige. Had to. Out of compulsion and zero interest.

"Alright, fine! Fine. I'm coming."

It was a mad dash after that; pretty sure I bumped into the wall once too but I somehow managed to put in my white non-squeaky sneakers, in case certain circumstances arose where I would have to punch his face and then run for my life. Then went I, right out of the door and down the stairs.

"You do realise right, that it is four in the morning?!" I yelled from a distance, as a tall black-clothes figure came into view. Can somebody remind me to teach him about the perception of colors later?

"Oh it is? I didn't notice," he deadpanned, meeting me halfway.

"You piece of— wait, why are you smiling? I'm trying to scold you!"

Watching him watch me with flickering amusement as he sized me up was not just mildly annoying. It was absolutely irritating. Typical Nathaniel - arms across the chest, a finger grazing his lips as he contained his smile from filling his perfect pink-red lips.

"Hello kitty," he chuckled lightly, the twinkle of his eyes not fading away even a bit.

Wait, what? Hello kitty...

My eyes fell on my attire, wide as saucers as I realised that it wasn't Nathaniel. It was just me. Making a fool out of myself. Again (not to forget). Amidst all the unhealthy probabilities that came to my mind about how wrong this situation could turn out to be, I completely forgot (totally did not do it on purpose) that I was wearing my maroon sweater which was a little too big for me. What can I say, I loved the comfort of plus-size clothes!

The only glitch- I didn't have any pants on.

Alright, that came out wrong.

No. It's not what you're thinking.

I definitely had pants on, but not the average pants that covered my legs. These barely covered my butt. Yes, you guessed it. My favourite pair of cotton pyjama shorts.

I sucked in a deep breath. "What are you doing here anyway?"

An (of course) thoroughly amused Nathaniel cleared his throat, averting his attention from my very exposed legs.

"I...uh...I was… out... for my morning run. Landed here instead."

"Uh-huh," I nodded lightly, faux-innocence flowing through my face, all earlier embarrassment now forgotten. To watch him scoop for excuses was more entertaining for me than my pant-less escapade was for him.

"I want to take you somewhere," his struggle finally ended in a sigh.

"Where?"

**********

October was, as people say, autumn. It marked the felt presence of the chilly winds that skimmed my bare skin, courtesy of Nathaniel Knight, the boy who didn't let me put any decent pants on. But I couldn't blame him; he only intended for me to witness this splurge of beauty that I had never, ever seen before.

"I don't think I have ever seen anything so...mesmerising," I breathed out, staring at the display of magic in the universe.

The sun was just at the brim of its birth, the hues of golden filling the sky. Truth be told, I had never stayed up to watch the sunrise until this very moment. Even though I liked sunrises more than I did sunsets. A sun rise is symbolic - new days, new chances. We don't get to look to the day before and wonder how things turned out a certain way. That chaos ends when the day does. In a matter of some hours a new opportunity arises; a crisp, new day full of mistakes and memories waiting to be made. And that is the craziest thing about life. Every sunrise is our new chance.

And everybody gets a fair one. What we do with it is up to us. At the end of the day, it goes away- like the sun.

The crimson of dawn painted the clear sky like it was a canvas of hope. The little streaks here and there that scattered as far as the eye could see were the epitome of perfection to me. Nothing in this world had ever made more sense to me. Not even The Return of Nathaniel Knight.

Oh, what was I saying! That phenomenon was one of a kind - no sense to it.

"Me neither," came a soft whisper from beside me. A soft, deep voice that I had grown re-accustomed to over the last few days. When my eyes locked onto his, they were fixed exactly where I thought they would be - at me.

"I know I don't say this enough," he sucked in a sharp, determined breath. "...but thank you," his storm-like gaze stared back at the growing sun, now leaving me in questions.

"What for?"

"For this," he gestured between us. "For giving me another chance."

"Yeah well," I started. "I am nice like that sometimes."

Well, technically I was still smiling on the inside and maybe even hyperventilating a little bit, but oh well. He had it coming. One sunrise won't fix a galaxy of mistakes so easily.

"For the record, you still have to earn your spot." The ball was in my court and nice as I am, Queen Thea was never letting go of the opportunity.

"That boyish grin doesn't work on me anymore, Nathaniel."

"Uh-huh." The jerk with the stupid smirk was right back.

So much for levelling the playing field, I sighed.

Sometimes I wondered if I should get my dialogues proof-read, just so I could refrain from saying anything even mildly catering to his fun. But then again, this was Nathaniel Knight we were talking about. How many such moments could there exist?

"You sure it doesn't?"

"Nuh-uh," I affirmed.

"Alright, so how about I take you out, tomorrow night?"

Um...

Here goes…

HOLY MOTHER OF EVERYTHING THAT'S SWEET AND NATHANIEL ON THIS EARTH WHAT IS HAPPENING!?!?!?!?!? HOW IS IT THIS BOY HAD THE ABILITY TO SHOCK ME WITH HIS RANDOM CUTENESS EVERY DAMN TIME?

WAIT...CUTENESS? WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?

"Tomorrow night?" I asked, bewildered by the gesture. This was becoming a regular thing-him throwing in googlies of surprises every couple of days and me being me, trying to figure out which lobe of his brain was inflicted with injury to the point of 'reversal of character'.

"Yeah...unless you're busy," the confidence in him faltered for just a second and it took me every ounce of self-respect to not hug the life out of him right there. Just because I was a nice person who hates seeing people suffer. That's it.

"You're not busy, are you?"

I mean, if I said no, he'd be really hurt, right?

"Depends," I fuelled his hope as I started walking back, him following suit. "Does your little rendezvous involve food?"

"Lots of it."

I bit my lip in anticipation of my next question that came exactly three seconds later.

"Free food?"

And then, a loud ring of a beautiful laugh came through the eeriness of the early morning, along with the confirmation of my choice. "Of course."

On the inside, I was dying of excitement of free food. Yeah, Nathaniel too, but free food always came first. Al-ways.

I simply shrugged, trying to refrain from showing how ready I was to create a hole in his wallet.

"Pick me up at seven," I threw in a coy confirmation, even though a small smile did manage to creep up on me. Let's just say, things were finally looking up.