Chapter 4 - Packing Up

Christian's POV

I looked at her retreating form, more specifically her swaying hips as she walked towards the sofa, with an incredulous look. I look down at the painting that started this whole thing. The waves crashing before my eyes representing the tumultuous thoughts running through my head at all times. I can't believe that the girl is willing to give up the painting without any kind of compensation. Either she is unbelievingly kind or incredibly stupid. Doesn't she see how talented she is? There is fucking proof literary in front of her eyes. Doesn't she know how much I'm worth? Lately, I've been appearing on the paper and on different magazines. It seems that my face is inescapable, to the point that I've been forced to hire a publicist. But, even in the unlikely chance that she has no clue of who I am even Elliot reassured her that I could afford to pay her, but, no. Thinking back on her comments there is no way that she is stupid or at least that stupid. That opens up a new possibility that she is kind, which I find hard to believe. If there is something consistent in my life is that people always want something from me. Whether it be material things like money or immaterial things like love. I believe that every interaction in this world is based on selfishness. We don't interact with a person unless they give us something in return. It doesn't matter if your fucking mother Theresa because I bet that the only reason she helps people that much is because the feeling she gets when doing good deeds. Not even she would help people if it felt bad. She is, like everyone else, a product of selfish acts.

That's why I find this offer so hard to believe. Nobody does anything just to be kind… ever.

"Isn't she great?" Elliot asks me drinking a big gulp of his coke. "I give you my permission to date her if you'd like."

"Who the fuck are you? Her father?" I ask him irritated but amused. He has known her for what fifteen minutes and he already thinks that he can dictate who she can and can't date.

"No, but as of today, she is my roommate. So, guy code dictates that you have to ask for my permission to date her or fuck her, for that matter, so that things don't become weird."

"That's bullshit. You can't stand between two persons if they want to do either of those things. We live in America, we can do whatever the fuck we want."

"This is the reason why you don't have any friends," Elliot says with a smirk and a dry laugh. "It's not just your relationship that is at stake if it were to end badly you know. And it's me that has to live with her at the end, not you."

"I don't want friends if they tell me what I can and can't do."

He rolls his eyes. Hasn't anyone told him that that's rude? "That's not what you said a few days ago," Elliot says. "You don't have to date her if she's not your type… you could become friends."

I feel myself squint as I look at him. The staredown ends with a quick shrug and a chuckle from Elliot as he walks toward the couch. The apartment is sparsely decorated. The walls are painted a light grey color with various different art pieces scattered in a seemingly random way. A white storage system stood against the wall filled with trinkets and a speaker. Directly in front of it was two wooden chairs that looked custom made and expensive. The caning of the chair was an intricate chevron pattern made from different, light wood tones. It was exquisite. The sofa was a direct contrast to the armchair, it looked cheap and worn like it was second hand or like she had had it for a very long time. Ana, had her back towards me, giving me the opportunity to appreciate her slender neck and shiny hair. Her obviously thick, brown hair was in a low ponytail. The base of the ponytail looked twirled giving me flashbacks to the princess movies Mia made us watch when were younger. Her skin looks soft and almost creamy, making me wonder how it would feel to touch her and if the skin of her neck is different from the skin from the rest of her body.

Not so long ago I was interviewed for Entrepreneur magazine and the journalist asked me 'To what do you owe your success?'. I gave him some bullshit answer that I really don't remember right now, thinking that a bullshit question deserves a bullshit answer. That evening as I sat eating my dinner alone, catching up on the newspaper when I stopped and thought about my success. In four years I had managed to amass a fortune that most people only dream of. My company was very successful and by societies standards, and most importantly my standards, I'm a very accomplished man. To what do I owe my success? It's not a what is a who – me. Hard work and determination is the reason for my success. In the end, I broke down my useful traits - logic, math, and instincts. When I search for companies to acquire I look for specific things; profit, leadership, and value. Logic determines what I should look after, math determines if it is truly a good deal and instinct determines the long-term investment value. Because sometimes all the math in the world just doesn't add up.

Later that same week as I interviewed countless different applicants for the new head of human relations position that was available in my company I realized that something was missing from my success equation – people. I'm not afraid to say it, my company wouldn't be where it is now without the help from employees. But, yet again, the common denominator is me. I'm the one who hires them and I'm the one who leads them towards success. I've needed to fire people two times since I started my company and both of them have been assistants. Generally, I would say that I have a knack for knowing peoples true intentions. The problem with people is that they change and so does their intentions. But, as I stared at Ana's neck, I realized that I couldn't get a sense of her and that her intentions remained unknown to me. What the hell did she mean with her 'I just want you' comment?

Did she mean financially? Because if so then she is not the first gold digger to try persuading me to start a relationship. Even so, that is improbable since she denied any kind of payment for her painting. Unless she is counting this as a favor. Which I resent, I hate feeling like I owe people something. Did she mean romantically? I hoped not, because I don't know how to handle that kind of emotions. She would just get disappointed because I don't do love. Frankly, I don't have time for love. My company doesn't run itself. And I'm just fine without it. Did she mean sexually? That made me nervous, really nervous, which in turn pissed me off. I'm Christian Trevelyan Grey I don't get fucking nervous. Yet, the subject of sex makes me shit my pants. Fucking virginity – what a stupid concept. Just the thought of my lack of experiences gave me a headache. I doubt that the girls that are after me would be as keen if they knew that their eligible bachelor is a virgin. They'd probably revoke the title. And, the assholes that I do business with would most definitely care. They wouldn't say it to my face, but, they would think something along the lines of "what's wrong with him?" or "what's his problem?".

Haphephobia, the fear of being touched, is my problem. I haven't gone to a shrink since high school, but it is still a very real part of my life. How could I let virtually a stranger touch me when I couldn't even give my family that right? It isn't like I haven't had the chance before, but I don't want to be in that kind of compromising position. I won't let anyone have that kind of power over me. Sure, I could tie her hands but if I don't trust her to not touch me or at least try to touch me. Imagine that I would choose a touchy girl and she manages to touch my "forbidden" areas, it probably wouldn't end well for her. In those kinds of situations, I act instinctively and violently, as seen in my high school records. All my high school fights started by guys that mockingly didn't know how to keep their hands to themselves, they all regretted touching me afterward. But, still, say that a girl hypothetically breaks down my proverbial walls and somehow, I manage to let that person in. She would probably leave because all the money in the world isn't worth the suffering I most likely would put them through. Abandonment issues, commitment issues, and haphephobia – a glorious trifecta of shittiness that is my personality.

I sit down on the sofa next to Elliot deliberately making as much space between Ana and me as possible can and sip my cheap wine. It is awful as expected. There is a slightly uncomfortable silence between us.

"Maybe I should go now that your things are up, Elliot. So, that you two get a chance to get to know each other." I offer as I stand up, put the glass of wine on the coffee table and subconsciously wipe my hands on my jeans.

"No can do dear brother, you need to help me unpack," Elliot says looking me in the eye with a smirk.

"You have two boxes and two bags, I think that you can do it on your own."

"No, you promised to help. You haven't fulfilled your duty yet." The idiot says with a mockingly bad British accent, I felt bad for English people everywhere.

"Elliot, I have better things to do than helping you unpack your underwear."

"Just sit your pretty little ass down on the sofa. It's Friday afternoon your company won't go bankrupt because you take a Friday night off. Down that wine and get yourself another glass because you need to relax." He pauses and looks at Ana. "I'm sorry, Ana. My brother is an asshole with a heart of gold don't let his rude behavior scare you off."

"Don't worry about me. The only thing I need is popcorn. It is very interesting to see you squabble. I don't have any siblings, so, I find this endearing."

"Just wait until you meet our sister then." Elliot laughs. "The girl has us both wrapped around her finger… especially Christian."

"She does not." I huff. Nobody has me wrapped around their finger.

"You bought her a car, Christian," Elliot says forcibly. "What do you call that?"

"Generosity." I deadpan.

"Must be nice to have such a close family." Ana laughs.

"It is." Elliot replays.

"Are you close to your family, Ana?" I ask her before my oversharing brother shares something stupid. Like the fact that I've barely spoken to my father for months and that I was obsessed with Snow Patrol in the 90's.

"Yes, I would say so. But, I guess is hard not to be close to your family when you have a small family." She says awkwardly.

"Are we talking immediate family or your whole family?" Elliot asks curiously.

"My immediate family consists of three people – mom, dad, and Kate."

"How can you only have three members?" Elliot says shockingly.

"Well, my 'real' father died when I was born. My mother's family disowned her when she became pregnant with me. She was very young when she became pregnant with me and my step-father's family was very small, to begin with, but they lost touch. He talks with his brother once a month, but I haven't seen my uncle since I was five?" she asks herself.

"How about your biological father's family?" I ask hesitantly. For better or worse I have quite a large family. I am immensely thankful for them. They took care of me when I needed them the most. Even if I'm not really sure that I trust them completely.

"Don't really know much about them. My mom said that my grandmother stopped talking to her when she met my dad because she thought that she had moved on too quickly." She shrugs. "I have all I need with my parents. So, you have a big family I presume?"

"We're three children, us two and our sister Mia. We're all adopted that's why we don't look alike." Elliot tells her excitedly. He has always been this excited when talking about his family, it doesn't matter if he was six or 27. "Our dad is a layer and our mother is a pediatrician…" starting his well-practiced monologue.

I remember the time when I wished that I was more like Elliot - easygoing, carefree and loveable. Everybody is just drawn to him, it doesn't matter what your gender is or what age you have, everybody loves Elliot. It's the same for Mia, she is just even more loveable. Growing up with a seemingly perfect family made me feel like an outcast. It is hard not being perfect when everyone around you is. Obviously, I knew that they weren't perfect. Elliot loved partying a little too much, Mia is spoiled, even I can see that my dad is a workaholic in the highest degree and my mom is afraid of conflict. Everyone has their faults, I know that, but I just couldn't see them.

When the girl Elliot liked died he became more like me. Gone was the partying guy that didn't give a fuck about anything. All of the sudden there was this very serious and sad person that I've never seen before. I saw myself in him that day on the deck and I realized that I was mourning as well. I don't know what really but from that day onward I promised Elliot, even though I never said it out loud, that I would try and be a better brother and son. It has worked for the most part except with my father. I just don't know what to tell him. Honestly, I expect an apology from him and not the other way around. I'm not going to apologize for doing the right thing for me.

"Christian?" Elliot says expectantly while Ana watches me intently.

"What?" I ask impatiently.

"Ana asked you a question," Elliot says looking at me irritated.

"Sorry, what was the question?"

"I just asked you what you did for a living," Ana said.

"I'm in mergers and acquisitions," I say vaguely.

"Wow, cool. Do you know this new guy that's on all the magazines? I think he has his own company and is making big bucks… what's his name? Christopher Gay? Christian Hay?" Elliot starts laughing hysterically and I can't keep my smirk away. Ana looks at us confused until her face goes pale when the realization hits. She looks embarrassed as she laughs softly. "Your him, right?"

I nod, laughing gently. A strong blush covers her cheeks and she presses her lips together quickly before speaking again. "Wow, that's really impressive. Congratulations on your success."

"Thank you," I say gratefully for her compliment. My company has been running since I was 19 and nobody except my family has congratulated me and actually meant it. Most people usually say it with a tinge of jealousy or contempt. But, when she said it was pure admiration.

"Wow, it seems like your whole family knows what they're doing." She says. "They have to be very proud to have you two as their sons." She continues.

"Why do you say that?" Elliot asks her incredulous. "I'm not a self-made millionaire like him."

"Well, I know nothing about that. But, I get an impression from you that you're a very loveable man. The way you talk about your family, obviously, they mean a lot, and you put them first. That in itself is a very admirable trait." Ana says honestly. In the limited amount of time that I've spent with Ana, I've learned that she is very earnest. It isn't necessarily that she doesn't have a filter, but, that she has an opinion and chooses to share it more often than not.

Elliot in the meanwhile looks thoughtful. It seems like she has given him something to think about. "Thank you." He says almost shyly. Ana just nods and shrugs.

"Well, I'm getting hungry," Ana says. "What do you want to do? Should we order pizza or something, or do you want nachos? We have all the ingredients at home."

Neither of the options sounds especially appetizing in my mind. One sounds like greasy tomato bread and the other like grease covered chips with meat. I would just like to go home and eat any of the healthier options Gale has at home. In other words, it's time for me to go home.

The apartment feels empty and too large without Elliot here. The modernly decorated apartment feels almost too sterile after being at Ana's apartment. You could see Ana's tastes and though fullness in every inch of her apartment, every piece and furniture carefully curated. Meanwhile, my apartment even though it is elegant, it doesn't really feel "homey". I walk towards the kitchen and see that there is a casserole covered with aluminum on the stove. The note on top of it reads "Zucchini Lattice Lasagna".

After the very satisfying meal, I sit down on the sofa with a good glass of wine and jazz playing in the background. Should I work now? For the first time in a long time, I don't really feel like working tonight. I don't have any other friends to be with and Elliot is at home with his new best friend. There is nothing on the TV, not that I feel like watching something, and not focused enough to read. As I swirl the wine around in the glass my phone starts to ring. There are very few people that would call at this hour unless it was an emergency, so I don't bother looking at the caller ID.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Christian?" someone sniffs into the phone. "It's Mia." Her voice breaks at the end.

"What happened? Where are you? I'm going to get you."

"You don't have too. But, can I sleep at your place tonight?" she asks hopefully.

"Yes, of course," I say hurriedly. What the hell has happened? "But, I can come and get you. I'm on my way to the car now. Where are you?" Why doesn't she just give me her address, so I can come and get her? Luckily, I've only drunk that one awful glass of wine tonight.

"I'm home and I don't want to be alone." She sniffs.

I feel myself relax when she says that she's home at least she isn't at some loser's house wasted. "Of course, what happened, Mia? Are you hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital? Where are our parents?"

"No, I'm not hurt. Or at least not that kind of hurt." She says vaguely. "But, I'm fine Christian. I can drive there. I'll see you in about 20 minutes."

The twenty minutes feel like twenty years. My mind keeps going to different kind of scenarios that could've happened to her on the way home. Distracted driving, someone has collided with her or the more likely option, she has collided with someone because she can't see well when she's crying. Why in the hell did I let her drive here? I should've just gone over there and picked her up. What has happened? Mia almost never cries. She is a ray of sunshine, which means that something serious must've happened. But why is she calling me? I always thought that she would call Elliot first if something were to happen. She probably did, but he didn't answer his phone or something. I pace around the apartment waiting for her when I hear the elevator pling to let me know that someone is coming up. Giving a quick glance at my watch I see that 17 minutes have passed since I last spoke to Mia.

"Hey." She says as she walks into the living room with me following her footsteps. "I brought candy and movies."

She is wearing her black satin pajamas with printed roses on top. Her short hair is pointing towards all the directions at once. Her face is make-up free, something I've barely seen since she was fourteen-fifteen and started wearing it. There are redder splotches on her face from her crying.

She turns around towards me and sees the kitchen. "Oh, I know what we could do. We could bake! Yes, let's see what you have in here."

Mia has been here for about five minutes and she has already managed to give me whiplash. I don't know what to say, so I just say nothing at all, and follow her blindly wherever she goes. She rummages through the cabinets looking for ingredients and after just a few minutes she has an impressive haul on the kitchen sink.

"Perfect, we could make chocolate chip cookies with the M&M's that I brought." My sister looks at me hopefully.

"I'll go get the candy," I say as I walk to get her bag.

After roughly forty-five minutes of me staring and engaging in light conversation with Mia, we both sit on the sofa watching some movie she brought with her. Not much of my attention actually go to the movie, but, to my sister sitting next to me. She still hasn't told me why she is or was so upset. I'm afraid of asking her and setting off the tears. I'm not good at consoling people, especially not girls. My question gets its answer as soon as Mia starts speaking again.

"You might be wondering what happened." She starts as I nod. "You know Sean? My boyfriend… I broke up with him today."

"Why? Did he hurt you?" I ask her carefully. The last thing I heard her say to our mom was that she was going to marry him someday.

"No." She pauses for a few seconds. "He hasn't hurt me."

"I don't understand."

"I just feel like our timing is off. I love him, I do, I really do. But, senior, year is coming up you know, because I skipped 6th grade and I need to focus on school and college and life after school. And it just feels like our break-up was this impending thing that just kept hovering over our heads and I just wanted to get it over with, you know?" she nods to herself as two answer her own question. "This way we can 'live our lives' like everyone keeps telling us. We can be wild and crazy or whatever people our age are supposed to do."

"I think Elliot did it enough for the whole family," I mutter not really intending for her to hear my snide comment.

Mia looks at me surprised and laughs wholeheartedly. "Hey, I knew that you could be funny. Shady but funny." She continues to laugh softly for a few moments until she looks at me again with tears in her eyes. "Did I do the right thing, Christian?"

"I don't know," I tell her honestly. She nods and diverts her gaze back at the TV screen not really expecting a more elaborate answer from me. I'm not really good at this, but I decide to try it anyway.

"Well, I know nothing about relationships so I'm not even going to touch the subject. But, Mia, where is this pressure coming from? You sound extremely stressed. Is it dad?"

"What?! No, it's not dad." She licks her lips quickly while gathering her thoughts. "You know how big of a deal college is around here. It feels like we're constantly competing over who is the best family. Sean is pretty much guaranteed to start at some fancy school next year but just the thought of going to some stuffy college makes me sick. I really don't want to do that."

"Mia, screw that. Tell me, what do you want to do?"

"I don't know." She says meekly with a high pitch voice. That has always been her tell. She gets a high pitch voice when she is lying.

"You do know. You just don't want to say it." I say to her. "You don't have to say it, I don't really care really. The only person your screwing over is yourself." I continue. I grab a cookie and sink down on the sofa and try to focus on the film again. What was it about?

"Baking and cooking." She whispers.

"What does that have to do with anything?" I ask her confused.

"It's what I really want to do." She says a little more forcibly.

"Then do it," I tell her simply.

"It isn't that simple." She says.

"Really?" I ask her incredulously. "What's standing in your way?"

"It isn't a viable career."

"Says who?"

"Common sense."

"That's bullshit," I tell her with conviction. I feel my temper simmer underneath my skin. I'm really trying to keep in mind that she's in the brink of tears, but, my patience is quickly disappearing.

"No, it's not," Mia says.

I take a deep breath and count to 10. "Mia, if there's anyone in this world who can actually afford to not have a viable career it's you. And being a chef or a baker is a viable career, especially if you're a good one. You could work at a place like Altura or start your own restaurant. A bad career choice would be teaching people how to talk to dogs or something like that. You are being silly right now and way overcomplicating things. Don't let anybody tell you what you can and can't do, it won't get you anywhere. And, could we watch this movie now?"

She looks at my profile for what feels like for a few minutes before she kisses my cheek and lays down fully on the sofa putting her feet in my lap. And for the rest of the night, we just eat cookies and watch romantic movies until we both fell asleep on the sofa.