Cleansed
Charice heard a firm knocking on the door and smiled to herself. Her lips, stained red as per usual, parted in a wide smile. She darted down the stairs, her pale mint-green dress swishing about her knees, porcelain legs a blur in her haste. She yanked the door open a moment before her father got into the entryway. On the other side awaited Caleb, his eyes flicking over her as he smiled in return. "Charice. I'll admit I was worried you would not be answering the door." Cherry opened the door further to reveal her father, who was listening with a stern expression. "And who are you?" John Grey demanded. Charice rolled her eyes, putting on an angelic tone. "Daddy I told you, this is Caleb Rhys, the boy from our sister university."
Her father examined Caleb, who was nearly equal in height and looked very clean in his button-down shirt and khakis. "Hmm. Right. Come in." As the older man stepped away, Caleb slipped nervously inside. Cherry almost laughed- the big bad killer was afraid of a devout Christian car salesman. As the door clicked shut, making Caleb look as though he felt trapped, Mrs. Grey approached. "You must be Caleb. I'm Cherry's mother, Brenda. Where are you two going this evening?" Caleb looked at Charice with a slightly panicked expression. Cherry looked at Caleb with a laugh. "Just dinner. I'll be home before curfew." Her mother nodded. "That's right you will. Well, we won't keep you. Have fun." She kissed Cherry's cheek, and the girl turned to Caleb so he could lead the way. Before she could show him out, her father put his hand on Caleb's shoulder. "You take care of my Cherry. You hear?" Charice rolled her eyes and hugged her father quickly around the waist. "He will, and has plenty of times. I mean, not that we've gone out plenty of times, but-" She frowned. "Look, I'll see you guys later. Love you, bye!" She slipped outside, dragging Caleb with her. "Sorry. He's not normally that protective, he's actually sweet. I promise."
They walked down the front steps and to the curb, where Caleb opened the car door for her. As they drove they talked about school, sports, other things that they did in free time. Caleb played varsity soccer, which impressed Cherry further. She had played a season of soccer in elementary school, proving that she was a much better dancer than soccer-player. The conversation stopped only when the car was parked in front of a pretty little restaurant she had never been to before. Caleb opened the door for her again, a custom of his. Cherry wondered again about his parents, where they were and if they were proud of their son. She would be, if she had a son like him.
As they approached the hostess' podium, Caleb snuck a candy from the little bowl. Once the two were seated, Charice spoke again. "So, I have a very important question. What…" she paused, letting tension build. "…Is your middle name?" Caleb flinched, looking embarrassed. "It's horrible. Fine, my middle name is Winsome. It means agreeable and lighthearted. Both are wrong. I am not agreeable, if I were to be an agreeable leader then the Purge would last a month instead of a day. I am not light hearted; I always look at the bad side of things." He lowered his voice and seemed to be looking through her, at nothing, at a vision or a memory. "I believe in revenge..." he coughed, loosening up the mood and clearing away his angry scowl. "The best kind of revenge is the revenge of success. It's not harmful and it makes your bulli- enemies look weak." He shrugged and Cherry noticed he had stopped himself from saying the word "bullies," as though it suggested weakness.
Charice thought he must have been deeply wronged in the past to look so dark. To bring him out of his reverie, she answered the question as well. "My middle name is Aerin, so my full name means kindness, charity, peace, and grace- which is about the Christian-girl combination of meanings I can think of. Unlike you, my name fits me quite well. I don't think I've ever even frowned at anybody, much less gotten revenge. When I am angry, I paint, dance, sing- you get the idea." She straightened in her chair as the waiter returned to give them their drinks and take their food order. One flaw of Charice's was the she embarrassed easily. One aspect of this was that she hated eating in public, for fear of making a mess. It was for this reason that she ordered the smallest and least messy food item she could find.
After the waiter was gone Cherry spoke her mind. "I'll admit I am still quite puzzled. Our companionship seems the most unlikely in the city. How did you and I just happen to meet and become...friends? Under normal circumstances, I doubt it would have been an occurrence. I just mean, with you being so smart and popular and high up in business, while I'm the little farm girl that likes to paint and write songs. Not to mention the whole innocent versus aggressive personality conflict." Caleb shook his head immediately. "Darling, I have no clue what you are saying." he leaned forward grabbing her hand and holding it in his, unleashing a flock of birds in Cherry's stomach. He seemed to do it platonically, but it felt the opposite for her. "I am not all that great and you're not all that bad. You're the definition of perfection so don't ask why we met. You see..." he paused taking his hand off of hers and laying it down on the table next to hers, much to Charice's disappointment. "Your hands are the same size as mine, see five fingers on each hand, no scars, same with me besides that killer hangnail right there. I may be a little taller and have a gorgeous grin, but your talent is just as good as mine. You and I are no comparison; only in the minds of others and I don't care about the others." He leaned back again, his speech at a normal pace now instead of a poetic rush. "Why? Because if anyone has to worry it's me. Am I good enough for you?" The young man laughed slightly.
Charicelaughed as well, leaning back. "You're sweet. I am not perfect; perfection does not exist. I learned that a long time ago, and it's a life motto of mine." She smiled, and then thought for a moment. Was her hand ever going to stop tingling, and would it be weird if she never used that hand again? She found herself looking at him and smiling, just content to be looking at him. Watching his face, memorizing the way his lips moved, just being obsessed in general. She felt nice, relaxed. Even though her life was busy and always full of challenges, with him she could just be calm, sitting at a table, talking about aimless little things and enjoying the evening. She was not used to that. She had not been in very many relationships in the past, only one or two. The first had not been official, and the second did not last long because she never had time to make it work. Cherry was the type of person who always felt guilty if she failed to please her friends or boyfriend. Whenever she cancelled plans she felt horrible for weeks, and she always over-apologized. Caleb seemed not to mind when she made an error, over-talked, stole the moment. He liked watching her just as much as she enjoyed watching him.
Caleb stood up and slid into her booth, his heat giving her goose bumps in an oxymoronic way. He pulled out his phone. "I want to show you something. In the meantime as it takes forever to load- technology hates me- I will ask you a question. Who is your favorite poet?" He looked down waiting for the blue bar to fill more than halfway. Caleb smiled she answered "Shakespeare." "What? Shakespeare? Poet and play writer? I love him, too. " Caleb coughed and fixed his collar. ""O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do! They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair," he quoted and went to take another sip from his water until she responded: "Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake." He looked up at her and she gave him a look as if expecting him to continue, so he did. "Then move not while my prayer's..." he paused looking into her eyes. His hand found hers on the table and he held it softly. "Effect I take. Thus from my lips-" his lips were inches from hers, their noses touching. "By thine my sin is puuurrrged." he drew out the "u" in a soft purr. Caleb kissed her softly and her heart raced faster than one hundred horses before stopping completely. Her lips curled upward in pleasure against his, but the moment was brief. Caleb smiled and pulled away. "And you don't believe in perfection."
In that moment, Charice was tempted to change her philosophy. Her cheeks were red, both from excitement and reticence. Letting out a shaky little breath, she flicked her dark eyes up to his. "I would recite an entire play for the chance to kiss you again." Her whole self was sparking, alive with pure energy but floating like a feather. She was surprised she could even talk with all the emotion coursing through her. Right now, with fire in her veins and her heart racing, she knew she wanted to paint him, to once again immortalize him in brush strokes and oils. "All in good time," he answered, looking down at his unfinished phone. "Well I was going to show something but it won't load. Anyways..." He continued and moved back to his seat across from her. Cherry almost frowned when he moved away again- the air seemed colder without him. "After we finish here, can I take you to a favorite little spot of mine?" Caleb offered. "I found it with my dog- Bullet, you remember- and I wanted somebody to share it with." Cherry's heart leapt at the thought of another few moments with him. "That sounds lovely."
They finished their dinner slowly. They talked all through eating, taking turns. He did not flirt or mention the kiss, merely being a gentleman. He laughed at her silly jokes while she hung on every word he uttered. She hadn't ever met anyone, besides her father, who could keep her really interested in a conversation. Usually her friends were materialistic or not quite as passionate as she was. Caleb seemed to be genuinely fascinated by every topic that came up. He didn't just make small talk he actually had things to say. After he paid- always the gentleman it seemed- they went back to his car so they could drive to the park where his special place was. Cherry settled in the car comfortably, noticing again how relaxed she was in his presence. She felt warm and cozy, partly from eating good food and partly from being happy. She looked out the window at the passing night and smiled slightly to herself. "I should commend you. So far I haven't found a single bad thing about you. My parents will be disappointed they can't complain about anything." She left out the Purge thing- in her mind it seemed Purge Caleb and Everyday Caleb were completely different people.
They arrived at the park, stopping by some bushes where the streetlights' glow could not reach. Caleb led her down a hidden pathway, holding aside thin branches so they would not harm her. She longed to hold his hand again, but feared rejection. She had noticed his hands were rough but still gentle somehow, like he was always very careful. His movements were deliberate, purposeful. Not wild and callous like most men. She liked that caution. Looking around, she took a deep breath and smiled. The occasional flicker of fireflies, which still swarmed even though it was the beginning of autumn, lit the night. The trees smelled strong and the air was warm though balanced by a cool breeze. Crickets chirped and an owl hooted somewhere in the distance. Charice closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the sounds and scents. Her steps were light, barely making a sound on the path.
Her wish came true when the path forked and Caleb took her hand, guiding her gently down the right road. Soon the trees gave way to a tiny clearing, which was shaded by a large cherry tree. The roots stopped at the bank of a glittering lake. On the other side of the water were tables and swing-sets- part of the park- but the tiny spot was split away from everything else. Cherry stared, the beauty taking her breath away. "Do you like it?" Caleb asked, removing his jacket and laying it on the ground, gesturing for her to sit where the fabric would protect her from dirt and bugs. She blushed, a frequent action with him around, and accepted the spot. "This is amazing," she breathed.
Caleb looked down at the sweet girl, watching the emotions play across her face as she spoke. They began discussing their interests again and her eyes were alight with excitement as she talked about her favorite authors, composers, and paintings. Already he considered her closer than a friend, the affection he felt startling. He always pushed people away; he had managed to shut everyone out until the damned girl snuck her way in. Curiosity flared in him and he finally asked, "As long as we're discussing favorites, who are some of the best people in your life?" He expected her parents or best friend, but instead her perfect lips formed the words, "You. You're one of the most important. I don't think I need to elaborate." She gave a coy smile, and his lips lifted as well. "Me? I'm honored. I like you, too. You're definitely my favorite person. That is not a surprise, but I am shocked that you would choose me over all of your friends and family." The scarlet that crossed her cheeks again was endearing. She appeared to think herself unworthy of his affection, though in reality the opposite was true. He was a monster; she was an angel. To love her would be to trap her in shadows, his devil tail wrapped around her in an inescapable trap.
When the air began to smell of rain and the innocent beside him was beginning to shiver, Caleb stood and took Charice's hand, liking the feel of her creamy white skin against his fingers. Reaching up with his free hand, he snapped a flower from the branch of the cherry tree and pressed it into her hand. "For you, darling," he lulled, gazing at her shy expression once more before turning back to the path where they would once again begin parting. The drive home had a sad air of finality, the coming rainstorm adding to the longing atmosphere. They reached her house too soon, so he walked her to the door in a childish attempt to prolong his time with her. He rested his hand against her cheek, which in its color reminded him of roses and snow. Taking her left hand, he pressed his lips softly against its back. "Goodnight, darling. Sleep well."