Matters of the Hart

Chapter 14 - Are your five seconds over yet?

Fantasy is a sedating world; as far as the female population of our human race goes, a fancy, Disney castle is the permanent address on the P.R. card. Girls. I know, right? They'd do anything to sneak into Disneyland, Paris and find themselves a prince charming.

I always thought that I was more of a realistic person than a dreamer. Dreams, fantasies -they didn't mean anything to me. Not saying that I'm abnormal and the world is normal, which I'm sure you must have thought too. I loved dreams and I loved having dreams. But the difference was - I defied the good olè cliché.

I believed in the concept of realistic dreaming.

In fact, last year I even took psychology class and spent the entire semester under the nose of the worst teacher ever because why not, right? Nothing new there; just my daily dose of sarcasm.

But what I remember of it, very distinctly, is this one class that she had focused on fantasies and dreams and how we interpret them. But she was such a dork that I never really paid attention to anything she said- anything except that one sentence.

"Dreams and fantasies are not merely figments of our imaginations. They speak volumes about what lies in our hearts - the fears and desires."

Out of all the useful things that she ever said in those four months, this is what stood out to me the most. Because it made sense. Having realistic desires made sense. Say, I'll give you three important examples. Example number one: I always wanted to be a good dancer when I grew up.

Hm. Well, come to think about it I was still seventeen and I hadn't done so bad for myself now, had I? I mean I was on the dance team and I obviously have plans in store. Not telling you what they are though.

Example number two: I fear spiders.

See, it made perfect sense. Arachnophobia is not irrational. It is as rational as…well, that's it. It's rational.

Example number three: Once upon a time, I crushed hard on Nathaniel Knight.

Why?

I don't know.

Yes, at that time it did make sense but it feels like that was an era ago. I mean, expecting him to reciprocate my juvenile feelings - that's where I drew the line between realistic fantasies and..well, unicorn princess fantasies.

Eventually I got over it, not because my secret Nathaniel fantasy never came to life; because well..., he turned into an ignorant douche-bag overnight. I don't think I ever would understand why he did what he did and why he was the way he was even now. Although he was a mysterious present waiting at the door of my heart, I got over it.

Who cares about his beautiful smile or his stormy grey eyes that turn up a whirlwind of feelings in the pit of my stomach with his intense look. Who cares if his changed heart is somewhat attractive? Like I said, I got over it long ago.

Now, I know for a fact that there are millions of girls in this world who would die for their first crush to say nice words to them, maybe place a light peck on the cheek or maybe even flirt a little bit to make them feel important. The thing is, I was not one of those girls. I was never going to be one of those girls.

So how and why did all the un-realism hop, skip and land onto my plate? Especially when I was sitting inside this really pretty, cosy and comfortable restaurant that serves amazing food I'm assuming, bang opposite my first ex-crush and aesthetically taking my first sip of water for the evening.

"Whoa?!" Less word, more water came out of my mouth. Just so you know, I actually meant to say 'what'.

Water that enters my mouth, oozes out of it. Now, for the landing. No, not the projectile motion. Luckily for Nate, my spit, along with precious drops of water spread out onto our table instead of his clothes.

"Jesus, Shortcake!" He exclaims, breaking out into a laughter as he threw his head back.

"I'm just teasing you."

"Well, it wasn't funny, Nathaniel," I retort back, picking up my fork again as I was about to dive into my plate. You must be thinking why I hadn't just walked away from there. But how could I? I mean...there was still food, lots of it. And desserts were still left to be served.

"You're right, it wasn't funny," he sighed, straightening up. Ideally, then should have been the time he would apologise about his remark and all would be well again in Thea-land.

"It was hilarious," he started laughing again. Of course he did.

Apology and Nathaniel Knight? That sentence is a fatal grammatical flaw in its whole being.

I sighed, looking down into my food again as I ate my food in an aura of peace, with intermittent break out of chuckles and a lot of blush tainting those cheeks, glad that at least Quinoa doesn't find it funny.

***********

It was almost nine and owing to the fact that neither of us had a curfew (well, the dormitory did but apparently, super boy Nate could just sneak us in), we decided on going to the beach since it wouldn't be very cold and also, since our town is very small not a lot of people linger around by the beach at this time of the evening.

The wind wasn't dry or very cold; it was gentle but somewhat swift. It hadn't picked up speed yet, but it wasn't dying in my face either. My hair was flying out and about in every dimension and I was not about to curb that anytime soon. It felt freeing, like I was filling my lungs with all the anticipation of something this wild, but soothing. Something gentle that caresses my hair to the roots but also blows my mind as I breathe it in.

"What are you thinking about?" A soft whisper pierced through the air of relaxation around me. I opened my eyes slowly, looking straight into my favourite shade of grey- the ones with the storm within.

"Nothing. Just wondering..." I trailed off lightly, shaking my head as we walked beside each other with so little space that I was afraid if he drifted any closer our clothed arms would brush.

"About what?" he prodded.

"About how nice the wind feels, hitting on my face like that. Like it's breathing into me, you know?" I smile softly looking ahead.

"Okay, John Green," he teased me, nudging my arm with his elbow as I tried to dodge it. Key word- tried. His long arms and bony elbows got me, although his touch was light and playful.

"Shut up," I spat back in mock annoyance. He just laughed it off, shaking his head as his strides became shorter, slower even. Like he was trying to match my pace.

And then there was silence once again. Dead silence.

So many unspoken words lie between us; so many questions I want to ask, so many new things that I want to know about Nathaniel that I had missed these last few years. But would he want to share it with me? I want to tell him about myself. Like a piece of me that belonged to my best friend years ago, when we were holding truth to the word friendship. I would love to tell him all about me. But...would he want to know? Would he care enough to know?

My feelings were only an abstract after all. They only made sense to the person who harboured them. Like this angst in me, for example. Technically, a month is only thirty days. But it's still so many hours and so many more minutes and seconds. And every second between us passes just like that. Like the wind: without a care in the world. Second by second was slipping out of my hands and not a single word had followed that beautiful laugh he bellowed out.

I looked to my side and for a moment, I just looked. Moving my eyes along the side of his absolutely chiselled face was somewhat knew to me. The way his eyelids fluttered a little when wind blew on them - he made being him seem so effortless. A small frown gradually settled on his lips as I realised that he was in deep thought over something. Every two steps, he would kick the sand gingerly, then sigh.

"What are you thinking about?" I found myself asking, even though it was none of my business. Was it too much to hope for that he'd tell me what went on in his head? I guess it was. But he asked for a month, right? So a month he shall get. Meanwhile, it didn't hurt to hope a little, even if it was in vain.

His non-responsiveness was not something I was going to hold against him. After all, it was only day seven of thirty. I looked away, as my question vanished into the thin air, along with the little hope I had in that moment. It's Nate, Thea. If he wanted to reason with you, he would have done it long ago.

The shore was glistening; the little wet pebbles which the light waves of the ocean kissed stood out and it was the best thing then that I could focus on other than the boy stepping up beside me.

"You."

One tenth of a second is what it took me - to realise that Nate had spoken. Perhaps said something I didn't quite understand.

"Huh?" I let out a single breath that was held captive as I stare at him with wide, expectant eyes. His face no longer held the frown. A soft smile graced his perfectly carved out lips and I wondered what that was all about.

"You," he stated again. "I was thinking about you."

His eyes turned to me and just that one look was enough for me to stay put, rooted at the spot while he took two steps ahead before noticing his empty side. How much more of him could I take? Every time I thought that now would be the time he'd shut me out again, he turned my mind inside out and I was left speechless and confused. Like I always was when I was with him. It's funny how the mellow whistling of the wind stood out to my ears, even more than the sound of my own breathing.

"What about me?" I whispered, gulping down nothing in particular - just the possibility of him reconsidering his proposal right now.

"A lot of things," he said, shrugging as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Like what?" I crossed my arms over my chest, not letting my doubts show on the surface of the submerging ship of hopes inside me.

His smile faded away. A little too soon for my liking but now seriousness had taken over his boy-ish features. And then he started walking towards me, right about the time I started walking back.

"I'm thinking...how incredibly unbelievable it is that we are here right now. As in you, here, with me."

His strides were short but so were mine. The only difference was he knew where he was heading. I, on the other hand, didn't due to the obvious lack of a pair of eyes at the back of my head.

"I'm thinking...I should tell you that you look beautiful right now."

Another step forward for him. But no step back.

"I'm thinking if I should come any closer to you or stop right here."

Stop, my mind warned.

Please don't stop, my heart retaliated.

My mind was clear in its message: Don't, Thea. He has hurt you so much.

But then, so was my heart: Let him in, Thea. You know you want to.

"I'm thinking if I should...," he licked his lips, letting out a huge breath which subsequently fell on my forehead. That's how close we were standing. He hadn't even been touching me and still I was tingling all over. I looked up, right into his stormy grey eyes that held something as he stared down at me, eyes flickering from my eyes to…well, my lips.

"You should what?" I whispered back nervously. I had no idea where this conversation was heading, but I didn't particularly want to stop feeling what he was making me feel right now. Unimaginably nervous but alive at the same time.

Then he stepped back.

Of course he did. He always does.

The way his jaw went rigid as his eyes were tightly shut, he looked like he was regretting this moment already. He was no longer in my personal space, but somehow I wasn't very happy about him moving out of it. Too many hopes lead to disappointments after all.

His stormy grey eyes opened up slowly. I didn't know if he knew but his eyes were the most attractive thing about him. I didn't know if I was hallucinating or had my imagination run that wild, but I could see it in his eyes - the calm. The one that is seen before the storm.

"Come with me," he took my hand in his as he lead the way to his car- me and my fluttering heart reluctantly following with no way to escape.

**********

We drove back to St. Theo's in peace. Well, peace of the external environment. Peace was a far from what was happening inside me. Neither of us spoke even one word to the other throughout the ride back home. For an empty road ahead of us, Nathaniel was surely too focused on not getting us killed or better yet, side-tracked.

It easily took an hour for us to reach and when we did reach, I realised we took the wrong turn.

"School's that way, Nate." I pointed to the window to my right.

First came a look, then a smirk. Then came, "I know. We're not going back just yet."

It was a little past eleven and when the truck halted, I realised where we were. The park. Our park. I turned around to give him a confused look, but got greeted by another smirk in return. What's a bad boy without a smirk, yeah?

I got out, following as he once again led the way.

"Why are we here?" I asked, looking around. The lamp was flickering. It was the same lamp which had shone on us the first time we had met after two long, hurtful years. It was also the same spot where we used to sit and star gaze. It was our spot.

"What are we doing here, Nate?"

As I stood there, waiting for him to explain to me what the purpose of this detour was, he just stood in front of me, gazing down as his grey eyes spoke volumes of the storm building up inside his soul. A small ray of light fell on the side of both of our faces -his more than mine- and it made his eyes stand out, so bright and deep due to the consistent flickering that I wondered what that storm behind them was about.

"We have some unfinished business," his breath once again hit my forehead and I was reminded of the very moment that had conspired between us not very long ago. Yeah it was kind of hard to shake off feelings that involved him.

"What are you thinking about?" I lightly held the unzipped side of his jacket, unintentionally forcing him to suck in a sharp breath.

"I'm thinking…" he sighed, swallowing so hard that his Adam's apple bobbed up and down once. I nod lightly, prodding him to continue.

"I'm thinking...that I have to kiss you right now."

Whattgefuxkinthenameofeverythinghotandsexyandomgomgomgsohotwashappeningrightnowandwherearethehuddencamerasamibeingpunkedorwhat.

Yup, pretty much how my mind went and don't even get me started on my heart.

"I don't know if you want me to and I don't want to do anything you don't want me to do and I also know that if I kiss you I will f*****g violate every rule of friendship but I really, really don't care about those rules right now. This is what I want and I know I have hurt you in the past and you might even hate me or you could hate me more after this, though you're too nice to let it show so," he breathes out. "You have five seconds to walk away."

Then he waited for me to walk away, like he was expecting it to happen. I looked into his eyes, full of hope and fear and an un-deciphered emotion that I didn't know if I wanted to explore at that very moment. His stormy grey eyes had that kind of power over you. They could either make you want to look into them all the time or scare you with their intensity so much that you'd probably not want to look back at them ever again. It was terrifying what just one look from his could do.

His lips looked perfect under the little lighting that we had around us. So soft and moist and I contemplated if I really wanted to stand here and take the leap and have them placed on mine or just walk away because the past kept hurling itself in my face all the time.

In that moment, I think I knew what I had to do to evade it - the past, the hurt, the pain.

"Are your five seconds over yet?"

Next thing I knew, my eyes closed on their own as I felt his strong arms wrap themselves around my waist and I was pulled to my toes. His lips brushed over mine, every so lightly that I didn't know if he was teasing me to annoy me or make me want more of him. I'd always want more.

"Last chance to walk away, Shortcake. I won't ask again," he whispered against my lips, his nose tracing mine as his hands skim the little strip of skin at my waist that showed itself when I looped my arms around his neck. His hair was soft, probably even better than mine.

"Do you want me to walk away?" I pulled at the nape of his neck, making him groan in a manner that had full potential of turning me on. I think it did too.

And then, there were fireworks in every square inch of my body. His lips were soft, so soft and so perfect in the way they meshed with mine that it made me forget why I was even thinking whether I wanted this. The wind around us was electric, and I swear, not even ten seconds into the kiss and my knees had turned wobbly. Thank God that he was all muscle; he held me flush against him as he coaxed my lips, groaning a little when I parted them to give entrance to his warm tongue that played with mine.

My fingers were working themselves; I had no control over them anymore. They disappeared into his hair as I pulled lightly on them, knowing it would work wonders for his mood. His kiss picked up intensity and pace and soon I tilted my head to the side to give him better access to make me feel all mush and gooey.

I was the first one to break apart, as I gasped for air. That's kind of what his kisses did, I guess. He sighed at the loss of contact, placing his forehead against mine as we breathed in each other's scent.

"Perfect," I breathed out, smiling softly, keeping my eyes closed still as I felt his eyes pop open and on me. I could feel him smile against my lips as we stood there in each other's proximity, his lips still brushing against mine as if he didn't want to let go.

"Beyond perfect," he declared softly, making me go weak in the knees when he asked for more. All over again.