II ‖ stranger danger

SHANGHAI
December 
Location: Iva's Apartment

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Did you remember the time you were ever warned about talking to strangers? Stranger danger. The phrase actually rhymed to supposedly help you commit it into your memory easily. Turning my head slightly, my eyes stopped at the overattractive man who sat right in front of me while I struggled to understand why I couldn't recall that back in the club. Great, I not only talked to a stranger but brought him home too.

"Anything?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes," he nodded slightly, unfazed by my reaction as he placed the soda can beside him and turned towards me. "Let's go easy on you. What's your name?"

I tilted my head to the side and contemplated if I should play his game. But my silence was responded with a pair of saxe blue eyes staring into my direction, waiting anticipatingly for an answer and making it impossible to resist any longer. "Aria," I lied. "And you?"

"Jax," he replied swiftly without a single hesitation and I almost believed that was his real name. "Alright, Aria. What's your favourite number?"

"Hmm," I pondered for a moment and replied, "Seven. What's yours?"

"Ten," he smiled, resting his back against the wall as he stretched his long legs across the length of the window seat. His foot rested by my hips but not touching and my heart jumped. I felt warmth creeping up my neck and quickly shifted a little nearer to the window, establishing more space between us. 

"Ten is such a random number," I commented. 

"So is seven," he laughed.

"James Bond is never random," I feigned offence and he laughed a little louder in response. The corners of my lips lifted into a stupid grin as my hands reached for a throw to cover myself. The throw was huge enough for the both of us, so it was out of a natural reflex that I pulled the throw and draped it over his long legs beside me. When I came to my realisation, I retracted my hands out of panic. "I'm sorry, I just—" I fumbled with my words as though someone had tied a knot on my tongue, making me sound like a total idiot.

His hand shot forward to hold onto mine, the heat of his palm was warm against my naturally freezing fingers. "That's very considerate of you, thank you," he spoke in a tone that was well-modulated and tender.

It felt so frustrating to know how much effect this stranger had over me. Just a small gesture made by him already sent my heart thumping noisily in my chest and the butterflies fluttered their wings relentlessly in my stomach. I haven't ever met a guy who had the ability to topple me over and stir me up so easily. Not even him. I gulped nervously, feeling awfully helpless and vulnerable.

"Aria, birthday month?" he asked, still going on with his game.

Despite the odd emotions I felt right now, I can't deny that I was starting to enjoy this cosy moment of random questions with this mysterious stranger. I replied, "February, your turn."

"November." Seeing that I was responding actively to his question, he chuckled in approval and gestured towards me, "Your turn, ask me a question."

"Hmm," I didn't want to spoil the momentum by thinking too hard so I just threw out a generic question. "Favourite season? Mine's Winter."

"Fall," he answered to each question so quickly, not even pausing to think. It was as though he knew of all his preferences and a small part of me wished I could be firm-minded like him. "Why Winter?"

"Sweltering summer heat is never my thing and falling leaves were just alright for me," I explained before choking on my words when an unwanted flashback came flooding into my mind.

"Aria?" Jax noted that I had grown silent. I cleared my throat and let out an awkward laugh. My fingers ran through my hair with the surfaced frustration and a familiar feeling of heavy pressure clamped down my chest as I inhaled sharply to catch my breath. It had been fifteen years since then and I had not spoken about this to a single soul in Elysium. Yet, here I am about to spill so much about myself to a random person. I sighed, "One day, my family went on a trip to view the blooming flowers in the mid of Spring."

I paused to swallow back the lump of emotions that had formed at the back of my throat before continuing, "That day, mom and dad left me to fend for myself in this cruel world."

Images of the entire ground of pink flowers dyed in crimson red flashed across my mind. Perhaps too much time had passed since then because that memory seemed to grow much more distant with each passing year. I was also failing at the recollection of my parents' faces as their features got blurred out together with all the love and warmth in the way they would call me Isabel, my birth name. There were days I wondered what it would've been like if they didn't die in that car wreck. A part of me also wished that they hadn't actually struggled to push me out of the car so that I could survive because maybe the three of us would be happier in the other world. 

For the entire time since I told Jax about my parents, he didn't move or say a word. He also hadn't reacted to it so I could only sit where I was hoping desperately that he could break the tense silence between us. 

When he finally decided to speak, he laughed jokingly, "My adoptive mother died in the coldest month of Winter. Since you like Winter, I don't think we can be friends." He tried to put his words forth in a light-hearted manner but the apparent sadness had marred the perfect tone of his voice at the mention of his adoptive mother. 

At that moment, time had stopped together with my heart. I lifted my head and met with the pair of mystifying eyes which seemed to hold the endless horizon of the vast sky that one could easily get lost in. My breath hitched when a punch of intensity hit me hard in the chest. I didn't know what to do with this person in front of me and the thought that we may not meet again after tonight actually caused an unexplainable ache to grow in my chest.

"Jax," I murmured.

"Hmm?" he made a sound off the back of his throat.

"Why did you choose to take me home?" I asked.

"I wish I knew the answer to that too," he shook his head slightly and a lock of wavy hair toppled over. His body bent forward and his fingers raked through his hair, putting the strand back in place as he tried to explain, "My feet moved on their own. Before I knew it, I stood right in front of you."

"Aren't you a smooth talker?" I let out a soft giggle.

"If you would like me to be," he grinned, the indents on both sides of his cheeks had revealed themselves and my hands reached out unconsciously, wanting to touch them.

He took my hand midway and rested it on his cheek. I could immediately feel the warmth from him on the tip of my fingers, his thumb caressed gently over my knuckles and he breathed a small sigh, "Why are your fingers so cold?"

"It's just me," I replied.

Eventually, he removed my hand from his face and placed them back on my lap. A pang of disappointment rose when my fingers immediately missed the feverish warmth of his skin. When I registered what I was thinking, I pulled my hand back and frantically hid it below the throw while one ultimate traitor thumped ridiculously against my chest. 

He straightened his back and relaxed back against the wall again. He moved like an ounce, languid yet lethal. Lazy yet graceful. Despite the honest moment we had shared, there was still something impenetrable about him and for the first time, I had no idea how to figure someone out. 

I continued to watch as he reached to his side and tapped on his phone screen. It showed 02:07, with a few tabs of notifications which he skimmed through briefly before he picked the phone up and pushed it into his pocket. "It's late, I shall get going."

I had indeed invited a weird guy to my house. Not only did he not do anything, he actually didn't consider staying the night too. Chuckling, I pulled the throw off me and moved towards the edge of the window seat. I smiled, "I had a fun time, stranger."  

I stood and walked in the direction of my main door when he called out to me, "Sweetness." 

My feet halted and I felt that word tickled against my heart. I turned around to look at him, staring right into those glimmering greyish-blue eyes that had already focused on mine. He requested, "One last question."

"Go ahead," I breathed. 

"Your name?" 

"Iva."

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