Matters of the Hart

Chapter 7 - Yeah, I'm a werewolf. I'm just waiting for my bones to break.

Grey.

A connotation used to describe a shade of a particular kind that lay dwindling somewhere between black and white.

You know what they say, every colour symbolises an aspect of our lives. For example, grey stands for undefined-ness. But it also stood for neutrality and maybe elegance. A certain charm was held in it - a hidden conversation that was left for us to decipher.

The colour of clouds: the kind of grey that indicated the occurrence of heavy downpour.

Some hard-core b**m: but that's a different kind of Grey altogether. Pun intended.

Grey: The colour of his irises.

Now that needs to be explained in depth because when I looked into his eyes with the light from the lamp-post giving me some visibility in the dark, I realised that he was already looking back into my hazel ones with an emotion I couldn't decipher.

I had seen, even imagined a lot of shades that could be present on a grey-scale but none of them came close to the beauty his orbs held. I knew I wouldn't find it even if I went out in search with a beacon in one hand.

It wasn't cloudy grey, it didn't look of the gloomy or uninviting nature.

It wasn't subtle grey, like the colour of a crayon or a monochrome obtained on mellowing the colour black with a drop of white.

No.

They were stormy grey - his eyes, staying true to the description - a storm of feelings. There was desperation, fear, angst, happiness. Maybe even lo—no, I shook my head invisibly. I was going too far with this.

It was a lot of shades of greys at once- I wouldn't know how to explain the colour. They were mesmerizing - warm, yet intimidating. The storm behind those eyes was not one that could ever die down. It was one that make you feel most alive, even in your death. Those multiple shades of greys that blended so beautifully depicted every emotion you'd wished for in your heart and only showed none when you consciously looked through them.

They would help you heal, or scratch your wounds; you had to decide which one of those sides you wanted to give power.

So many different shades of grey in this world, and I just had to get addicted to his stormy grey ones. I shook my head in defeat.

"What are you doing here, Nathaniel?" I broke my gaze from his captivating eyes, whispering as softly as I turned away that I doubted he had even heard me

For a while, silence was all I could perceive. Silenced mixed with the rhythm of his slow-paced breathing. I was in the same stance I was in before I had known of his shadow: my hands hugging my black jacket tighter and gaze stuck on the thousands of beautiful stars that never hid or bothered to look away from me.

'Dodge Thea's eyes' was his favourite game after all.

Never in my wildest dream would I have thought that I'd find him here again after so long, in the exact same place that held most of my favourite memories with my childhood friend.

Where his breathing was unnervingly even, I could barely keep myself together. The only reason I was standing on my feet was because if I fell, I'd be very, very embarrassed. Not that I cared if gave into my jelly-fish legs and embarrassed myself in front of him. I mean, what if I fell and broke my ankle? That would be worse than a mere embarrassment, right?

Right, I was almost convinced.

His reply never came. The only proof I had of his presence was the soft sounds he was unintentionally emitting with every breath he exhaled into the familiar surroundings.

**********

My life played tricks on me all the time.

One day, it dismantled and up sprang Noah, absolutely out of nowhere. Then it compelled me to think that that was what destiny had wanted for me all along before the next time, when it brought up Luke.

Wondering if I skipped Caleb on purpose? Nope.

Caleb was never a part of the plan - he was just bad Karma from my past life.

Now, when I was just getting used to the idea of having to see Noah around more than I thought and possibly even Luke, my dear life caught on.

'Hi, cupcake. Here's another blast from the past. Hope you survive.'

I snorted at that thought. Of course a girl snorting while sitting next to Nathaniel Knight was not very attractive but who cared? I knew I didn't. Maybe.

We were stuck in a time-frame, him and me. Now sitting beside each other on our old bench by the pseudo-city walk that overlooked the ocean, watching the same twinkling delights with me reminiscing about our favourite memories I had, not even bothering to make small talk.

Silence is only comfortable when the two people who share it are at peace with each other.

But the silence we were sharing - while our knees lightly brushed - was making me want to scoot far away from him because it was disquiet. The loud voice inside my head that was asking for answers I probably would never get just wouldn't take a back-seat. Everything and nothing was running through my mind simultaneously; I was such a mess because of him that I was making no sense.

Our ever-so-lightly brushing knees made me aware of how close we were actually sitting. I could literally just about tilt my head to the right and I'd be resting it on his broad, muscular left shoulder covered by his white form-fitting tee shirt that made his biceps bulge out in a photogenic way.

Nathaniel was of an admirable height - 6 feet 2 inches. Believe it or not, while we were kids I used to be taller than him by about an inch and I would make sure I teased him about him all the damn time. He was such a lanky boy back then - short, smiled less often (I had to teach him how to do that, ugh) and wore loose clothes. He would pretend to get mad about the teasing and kick my sand castle, which resulted in me pulling at his short brown hair till we both had tears in our eyes from all that laughter.

Well, then you can guess what happened.

Karma?

Nah, just puberty.

One fine happy summer, 'tall Thea' was away on vacation in the Netherlands for three months; my dad's company had sponsored his work trip for him. Obviously that was a vacation away from home for Lia and I since we were kids and he couldn't leave us alone by ourselves.

That was a fine summer: I remember I grew a whole inch taller over those three months.

When I returned to Sunville, the very first thing I did was run to the park in hopes that I'd find Nate and tell him I had grown up one whole inch taller in the summer. Imagine my surprise, when 'tall Thea' who was desperately looking for a short-statured Nathaniel, walked right into 'Nate, the late bloomer' - who was now more than two inches taller than me.

It goes without saying - ever since then, that boy had been calling me 'Shortcake.' Like, what even. My height was way above average and I explained this to him every time he would tease me, but that guy had a thick skull with absolutely no brains. Hence, stuck Shortcake.

Until the day we last spoke.

"What are you thinking?"

I felt his hot, calculating gaze on the side of my face as the soft breeze blew my hair out minimally. In my mind, I could imagine him looking at me - with those powerful grey eyes, hidden behind his beautiful, jet-black eye-lashes.

It wasn't fair - he had such beautiful, long, thick and curved lashes that accentuated the beauty of his eyes by a hundred. He didn't even need eyelashes. He was a B-O-Y. Boy.

The light shimmer from the bulb on the lamp-post was falling on his handsome face. His brown-black hair of soft texture; I remembered pulling them harshly every time he managed to successfully piss me off with his stupid boyish lack of sense. Hair so soft, I could run my fingers through them all day, every day.

His high cheekbones; they gave way to rumours about him being a part-time model for Vogue. I knew they weren't true. Nate was too camera shy to pose and have his face circulated on the cover of the World's Most Sold-out Magazine. Vogue and Nate - two different ends of the spectrum.

His pointed, long nose (not very long, just the perfect length).

His perfect lips. Not too thin, but not overly full either. Just perfect. A perfect pair of pink-red lips that any girl would desire to mesh their own lips with. Not that I was saying I was one of those girls. I'm not saying anything.

His well-defined jawline; so sharp that it could cut paper. A layer of well-groomed stubble lining his chin and jaw. Girls - say no to clean shave.

Any and every girl of Saint Theodore's (except Lia and I of course) wanted to have a piece of him just so they could brag that they were touched by the re-incarnation of Adonis. Being on the bucket-list of all the girls came in very handy for his popularity since all sorts of rumours flew around. He neither accepted nor denied them, giving way to his mysterious vibes which made him a million times more desirable (not my words- again, the girls' washroom). I didn't blame their obsession.

Girls fighting over him was a battle that has been going on ever since the battle of Giza had ended. Just an exaggeration, but you get the drift. He didn't bother, he didn't care. He just tuned it out.

"Take a picture, Shortcake, it'll last longer."

Those stupid perfect lips slowly formed an annoying smirk, bringing me out of my haze. Narcissist, gray-eyed stupid fellow, I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Are you drunk?" the words came out. No, I didn't regret them one bit and yes, I was sober.

If you told me that the guy who went to the ends of the world to ignore me was now willingly sitting next to me for a nice, little chat, I'd definitely have my suspicions. On a graph paper, this whole phenomenon was called Nathaniel's deviation from the normal.

"I don't drink, Thea," he answered, now wearing a serious expression on that smirk. Stupid boy was flexing his arms so naturally, any girl would forget her own name. But I wasn't any girl, no. No. I was Thea Hart - and his charming smile and handsome face and hot body were not at all distracting me. Noppity nope.

"Did you hit your head then?" I narrowed my eyes at his too-good-to-be-true demeanour.

"No, Thea," he answered, the amused glint very evident in his beautiful grey eyes. But I chose to ignore the magnetic pull they were having on me.

"Well, did you buy an ignorant twin online?" I c****d my head to one side, raising one eyebrow. Well, it sounded sassier in my head. Never mind.

"What? No," he chuckled, shaking his head at the end of my outlandish questioning.

"Then what are you doing here, Nate?" I made sure my voice had enough of everything - urgency, confusion, judgement, anger, and most importantly, sass.

"Oh, I don't know Thea," he deadpanned, before continuing. "...what would I be doing here after midnight, with a girl I haven't spoken to in-?"

"Two years," I reminded him, furrowing my eyes at his not-so-subtle-choice of words. I remembered these two years - him avoiding me like I was the first case of a break-out of small pox.

"Two years, One month, six days."

Damn you, Nathaniel Knight.

"What do you think I'm doing here, Thea?" Now it was his turn to c**k his head to one side in that typical smart-ass manner. Had I ever mentioned that an amused Nathaniel was cute, I would have taken it back because the Nathaniel I was seeing right now, with his head tilted to one side was the peak of cuteness. Good for me, I never mentioned him being cute.

"You could be a werewolf for all I know," I shrugged off his cute expression turning my head away from him, facing the ocean waves. Not the smartest thing to say but most girls act dumb in front of hot guys. Not that he was hot or I was acting dumb. Just saying..

I heard him snort. "Yeah, I'm a werewolf. I'm just waiting for my bones to break," he retorted back sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Ex-cuse-me? After ignoring me for two years, scratch that, two years, one month and six days, this imbecile had the nerve to get sarcastic with me? Ugh.

"Don't get smart with me, Nathaniel," I narrowed my eyes again at his still amused face. I think I liked him better when he was broody and far, far away from making me lose my calm.

"Or what?" His voice held a challenge directed at me and I could feel myself melting as his grey eyes bore into mine. No, Thea. This is exactly what this ignorant imbecile wants. Strong girls don't give in. They play fire with fire, and an ignorant bad-boy wannabe with a moral to damage.

"Or, you will end up with a very disfigured face," I snapped back, still keeping my glare fixated on the storm in his eyes, trying hard to not get washed away with it.

"You can try, love," he only scoffed at my words, rolling his eyes.

Erratic heartbeat? Check.

Heat rushing to the face? Check.

Possibly pink-tainted cheeks? Check.

All because of one word? Double check.

So much for being a strong girl. One word and I was already suffering and sighing and wanting to hear him say it again and again. Thank God for the dark and my open hair - I could easily hide my blush behind it.

So much had happened in two years. Ten minutes into a conversation with him and it was as if the last two years had not happened at all. The sarcasm, the teasing, calling names - it all came rushing back to me. And that was when I realised that I had to walk away now, before he could. Again.

"Why now, Nate?" I stood up, shaking my head upon realising that I had almost given him a free pass to hurt me again.

If he thought that he could come here and we'd be all buddy-buddy like the last two years hadn't happened, then he was in for a big surprise.

My mind was clouded with questions, a lot of them- I knew I wasn't getting any answers anytime soon. I turned around with the determination to walk towards the same pebbled path that I entered the park from. But I couldn't leave.

"Because now is right, Thea. Now is perfect."

His soft yet affirming whisper held me back. Had I walked two steps further, I probably would have missed it. It was a bittersweet moment, I wished that I had missed it so I wouldn't have to witness myself crumble; at the same time, I was relieved that his voice kept me from walking away, when I should.

My resolve had broken to bits, but what it gave rise to was far from what I had imagined I would act upon. I had given into the bitterness of his statement, waves of anger now wailing at the shore of my heart.

"Perfect, for what?" I turned around, snapping back at him. "Perfect for you to act like my friend and then ignore me for some more years?" I spitted out, as a single tear was perched at the corner of my eye, warning me that if I stayed any longer, it would fall out.

"No, Thea. I won't ignore you," he shook his head, talking two steps closer in my direction but only to stop as I took two steps back, equalising the distance between us.

The distress on his face was evident, and my heart almost went out to him. But he had no right to humiliate me like he did and act like the bearer of the wounds that he had given me.

I laughed sarcastically.

"That's very reassuring," I snorted, rolling my eyes.

After that, it was a series of futile sighs and Nathaniel opening and closing his mouth trying to form a sentence of coherence but shaking his head at its inadequacy.

"I didn't...I...," he sighed again, rubbing his hands all over his beautiful face. "I didn't know how to-"

"How to what?" I cut him off, asking still patiently. I wasn't cut out for a yelling contest, but the best I could do was be patient with my anger as I tried to contain it.

"How to start a conversation," with a final sigh, he continued. "You know I'm bad at it. For the last eight months I have been trying to approach you, talk to you, but every time I come close to it, I chicken out. I have wasted the whole of the last semester trying to figure out ways to talk to you, in the cafeteria, in the hallways, at midnight when you sneak in to the Church. I'm around, Shortcake. Every time I see you looking back at me I realise how I f****d us up and I know what I've done is shitty and you have every right to hate me. In fact, you should. But please, please just…"

My feet were nailed into the ground.

My stare swimming in his stormy grey eyes as I tried to gauge what that emotion behind his eyes was.

It was honesty, pain, strength, weakness, determination, and genuineness. It was hope.

"Then why did you walk away?" I whispered slowly and the tear that bad previously threatened to fall out did stay true to its words. It came rolling down my right cheek and I hadn't even realised it until he was standing less than two inches away from me, cupping my face in one hand as he brushed his thumb across my cheek, wiping the trail of wetness it left behind. Wow, how quickly things escalate.

I knew he was struggling with his words - I could see it. His eyes had already told me the answer long before I was trapped in this moment here with him. He wouldn't give away the truth to me just like that.

"This is going nowhere, Nathaniel," I held his fingers with mine for a brief second before moving them away from my face.

"I have to go. Just go back to how things were and I'll forget we had this conversation." I took two steps back before completely turning around and walking away, leaving a lot behind.