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Chapter 4
Even though we were just going to his apartment to watch a movie, I dressed a bit nicer than usual.
I put on a pair of dark skinny jeans I found in the back of my closet and a nice looking, sleeveless blue top.
The tank top was beautiful. It was scoop necked and flowed down to my mid thigh, but it still clung nicely around my figure, showing off my slim body. There was a beaded design on the bottom and the neckline.
I put on a little makeup too. Eye shadow, mascara, blue tinted eyeliner, and shiny lip-gloss. After that I put on some jewelry.
I found a silver bracelet, a blue, beaded necklace, and a ring. As I was slipping on the necklace, I couldn't help but remember the one that Hank made me give up.
Again I felt that strong longing for that beautiful, dangerous looking hawk. It confused me as to why I was so desperate for an accessory, but part of me knew it wasn't just that, it was a part of me, weird as that sounded.
I looked at my watch and realized that if I didn't leave right away, I would be late. I ran through the living room and put on a zip up hoodie over my top, and black flats on my feet.
I hurried out the door, almost forgetting to lock it in my rush, and haled a cab, toughing out the small snow flakes falling from the sky, and the fine layer of snow under my feet.
The taxi driver that picked me up gave me a weird look, probably because of the dorky smile on my face. I told him the address and he drove off, probably thinking I was high.
Five minutes later, the sun was setting. I thanked and tipped the driver before entering the store.
He was already there, looking at the back of a DVD. As I got closer, I saw it was a romantic comedy.
"And you gave me crap," I criticized. He jumped, then turned toward me with a smile. I've never seen this man frown, which would be annoying if it weren't so cute.
"I was just looking for something you might enjoy." He blushed.
"I'm so sure." I replied sarcastically, "Besides, I never said I liked romantic films."
"You're a girl, you like romance movies." He said seriously, but still, he put down the movie and led me to the action movies. I smiled.
After awhile of teasing, we found a film we both agreed on. It had action, suspense, and blood and guts. There was also some romance, which he said was for me, but I think he not so secretly liked them.
We walked outside after paying and we were pleasantly surprised. Kind of.
A thick layer of snow covered the ground, and giant tuffs of it were still falling. They stuck to my eyelashes and hair. I glanced at where Aden had stood, only to see that he was no longer there.
Just as I was about to go into full-blown panic mode, a big, squishy blob of snow smashed into the back of my neck.
I'm sure my expression was one of surprise as the ice-cold water trickled down my back.
I heard a snicker behind me.
I turned quickly, grabbed his head and slipped my foot under his, a mixture of tripping and shoving his head into a snow bank
I stood there, shocked. I hadn't even thought before I did that. It was like a reflex. I was also shocked because he was at least a head taller than me, and covered with muscles, yet I had managed to take him down in seconds.
The voice (figure?) nodded its head approvingly.
And again, I wondered what I didn't know. What had I forgotten?
Aden stood up and shook his head like a dog, drops of water flew everywhere.
"Dang! I have to tell you, I definitely didn't expect that from you!" He sounded amused, not angry at all, but maybe that was just my wishful thinking.
"Me neither," I murmured, "sorry." I looked bashfully into his eyes.
He looked confused by my sudden glumness, then reached out and touched my cheek with his warm hands. "Hey, don't be embarrassed;" he whispered soothingly, "it was awesome!" His face broke into a childish grin again.
I smiled halfheartedly and Aden haled a cab. We slid into the backseat together. We talked the entire way, mostly about family, which I had very little to say about.
I don't remember most of my childhood, and it has nothing to do with the accident. Most of it was spent in my room, always reading because my parents were never home, and my nanny spent most of her time in the liquor cabinet or passed out on our couch, drunk. The only reason I even had a nanny was so that my parents could look good, like model parents. Model parents with a nanny. I can still remember her yelling at me occasionally. "Ahhhkiirraa! Get out here! Get me my damn liquor! You lazy son of a-!" I flinched; remembering when she would hit me.
Of course I didn't tell him anything. That seemed too deep and emotional, and I had just met him the other day. I just avoided most questions, and he seemed to realize I didn't want to talk about my childhood.
I learned a lot about Aden though. He has two brothers, his dad was a retired fireman, at that point he had smiled, as if I was missing an inside joke or a secret. I wondered if he was a pyromaniac or something. His mom died when he was thirteen, leaving his father to take care of three teenage boys.
Whenever he mentioned his dad, he would smile in a proud way. He admired his father, that much was obvious. He sounded like a great man.
I had also found out the he works as a garcon at one of the five star restaurants in downtown New York, The Grandèmere, an overpriced, gourmand haven. The kind of place that would serve gorgonzola (transported all the way from Italy of course), liver, or caviar, stuff only rich people could (or would) eat.
All too soon the ride was over. When the cab pulled over, he told me to stay where I was. He got out and quickly ran to the other side of the car, opening the door for me. A crisp winter breeze flew in through the open door.
"Thank you kind sir." I said, attempting to sound like a sixteenth century maiden.
He stifled a laugh at my poor mimic and replied in an overdramatic British accent, "any day m'lady."
I giggled and he took my hand with his warm ones, leading me up the stairs to his apartment.
When we entered, he took my coat and hung it up in a closet like a gentleman.
The room was nice, very cozy. There was an unlit fireplace on the far wall with a TV over it. A couch was facing in that direction with a coffee table next to it. There were other doors too, but I stayed in here.
Aden went to the kitchen to order a pizza, and told me I could light a fire if I wanted to.
I grabbed the box of matches off the mantle and knelt near the fireplace. I struck a match on the rough surface of the box, and tried to start the newspapers that were wedged in the crevasses between the logs on fire.
No such luck.
I used three or four matches before Aden came in; he knelt down next to me with an amused grin.
He took the box from my hand and struck a match. He put it next to the paper. Before they even made contact, the paper caught fire, quickly spreading it to the logs.
I leaned away from the sudden burst of heat and gave him an amazed look.
"Takes practice." He explained as if it were the simplest thing in the world. His eyes were dancing, and his lips were twitching upward, as if pulled by some magnetic force he couldn't control.
I smiled at him and we looked into each other's eyes.
It seemed as if we just got lost in each other. The moment seemed so intimate, as If we could see into each other's souls, like in that moment, I knew exactly who Aden was.
After a few moments I broke the silence. "So," I cleared my throat, "How about that movie?"
He seemed to come back from our little, personal planet too and agreed hastily.
He put the DVD in its place and we sat on the couch. About fifteen minutes later, the pizza arrived, so I carefully ate it on a paper plate. He chewed sloppily. He had told me pizza was his favorite food.
It wasn't fancy, but I think I enjoyed this more than any other time in my dreary, depressing life.
About halfway through the movie, Aden tried the 'yawn and drape your arm over her shoulder' move. I covered my laugh with a cough, but he didn't seem to notice.
A few minutes later, I leaned into his side, kicking my feet up beside my bottom.
Twenty minutes later, I was asleep.
It was the same dream.
I was running. Part of me knew what was happening this time, but the other part, my dream-self was lost and confused, not knowing why she was running.
Then, there she was, the petite, blonde girl. She kicked me to the ground again, hitting, punching. I let out a whimper as my sight started to fade.
But then he was there. Aden ripped the girl off of me, screaming and thrashing. My dream-self closed her eyes. I couldn't see what was happening. I could hear her screaming come to an abrupt stop. Then he was shaking me.
"Akira! Akira! Can you hear me? I'm here! Open your eyes! Please!" His voice was panicked and pleading.
But I slipped into the dark abyss.
I opened my eyes slowly, aware that someone was shaking my shoulders.
"Akira! Wake up! You're having a nightmare!"
I faced Aden groggily. His eyes were piercing and his forehead was creased with worry.
"Sorry." I yawned, "I didn't mean to fall asleep." I stretched.
"You were having a nightmare." He accused, "you were crying and whimpering," he winced. I disbelievingly touched my cheek. Sure enough, I felt a trail of water. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked gently.
"No thanks," I gave a fake smile. "I don't even remember what it was about." I lied.
He gave me a cynical look but all he said was, "next time, we're watching The Notebook."
"I bet that's your favorite." I moaned, sitting upright. Although I was secretly happy, he said next time, which meant I hadn't scared him away.
I was surprised when instead of denying it, his cheeks flushed pink.
We teased and bantered playfully for a while, memory forgotten.
Almost.
There was still a slightly tense atmosphere that we were trying desperately to cover up with our mock arguing.
- -
Eventually, I had to leave. Aden helped me put my coat on and walked with me to the curb, waiting for a cab to come; our breaths were coming out in little clouds.
One turned the corner, before I got in; Aden leaned over and kissed me lightly on the cheek.
"See you soon." He whispered and walked back into his apartment.
I stood there for the two seconds, then sat in the cab, dazed. The spot were he kissed me still tingled from his warm lips.
"Where to?" The driver asked in a heavy New York accent. It took me a second to answer, but I did, in a shaky voice and he drove me away.
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