Day 53

I shift uncomfortably on the bunk bed. Somehow Arianna and Dylan convinced Adrien to cancel the reservations of the hotel, and instead book a hostel.

He also threw a tantrum yesterday when we got here, because there were no rooms with four empty beds and each of us had to stay with other people. Needless to say, the outburst earned us a room to ourselves. I never recognized Adrien's hidden ability to be a drama queen. For a good thirty minutes, Arianna and I were laughing while Dylan imitated Adrien.

I had on purpose left out this information about our change of plans when I spoke to my parents. This recent surge of confidence, at least I like to call it that. With no idea of its source, is the main reason I decided not to recount most of my whereabouts. I knew the moment I tell them they'd freak out, and I had to explain my reasons to them, which they never would've understood, or even listened. So I didn't mention it, to save myself from having a pointless argument.

Also, I'm an adult. I have the right to decide what I want to do without needing to justify my behavior to anyone. If Mom and Dad cannot give me that space, I must find ways to cut it out for myself. This new voice in my mind has kept me convinced I made a reasonable choice. I'm trying to live, to be carefree, and enjoy life. That won't happen if I stay in contact with my family and provide them every detail of my actions. Let them think I'm playing the martyr, I really don't care. I'm sick of being judged, so tired of explaining myself all the time.

Their view over me can't get worse than this.

I readjust my position, to have the most light coverage over my book's pages. With the bed overhead, it's not an easy task.

I glance at Adrien, standing in front of his canvas busy drawing the Parthenon along with a figure whom I guess it must be goddess Athena. It would only make sense, since Parthenon is dedicated to her and Athens people consider her their patron. That's what Google says.

I continue with my Tales of Norse Mythology. It appeared suiting to read it in this city. In fact, I've always procrastinated reading anything regarding mythology. Yesterday, I came across this book and it was fitting to buy and read it.

The only problem is that it'll be a big trouble soon if I keep on buying books in each country we visit.

I'll find a way around that. And with that thought the topic is closed, I fix my full attention to the book.

Adrien's constant grumbles under his breath draw my focus to him.

I watch him as a smile tugs on my face. We've been getting along really well. In fact, last night he offered we set Monday movie nights and Saturday and Sunday series nights. And I happily agreed. There are a lot of films I've missed out on.

After a minute, when I realize he won't quit his mutterings, I ask, "Is something wrong, Adrien?"

He turns to me, and I barely hold back my laughter. One side of his forehead and his cheek stained with black.

"Oh, no. Everything is perfect." He waves his hands, his palms covered with color.

I bite my bottom lip to prevent myself from giggling. With a nod, I reply, "Okay," and stare at my book.

"I was being sarcastic," he adds with disbelief, drawing my gaze to himself.

A broad grin pulls on my lips, "I know," I assure him.

"That's all you've got to say!" his eyebrows raised so high that it makes him more comical than serious, therefore harder to not titter while looking at him.

I shrug. "Yeah." He gapes at my answer and I add, "We should've planned to stay longer in Greece."

His sea-green eyes widen to the extent of his eyeballs popping out of their sockets. It's a surprise they're still in their place. I cover my mouth in vain to stop from laughing, but giggles bubble out of me.

"This is ridiculous," he states, and I laugh harder. "We're staying in a stuffy prison hole and you find it funny?" He holds his hand that is grasping the black pastel up. But the corners of his lips lift upward, betraying his stern tone.

"We're out mostly," I point out with a smile.

He inspects me with narrowed eyes. "So you're fine with such a cramped place?" he asks, sounding skeptic.

"What's there to mind? Yeah, it is, but... it's a cool experience too," I try to explain while he stares at me with wariness. As the silence stretches between us, I give voice to the lingering thought ever since they headed out to a bar about two hours ago. "You could've joined Arianna and Dylan if you have so much issue with small rooms,"

"No way," he shakes his head.

That is weird. He never has any problem joining them. What's the difference this time? Unable to remain quiet, I squint and query, "Why not?"

He starts putting away his art supplies, while answering with an expression indicating he is saying the most obvious thing, "You would have been left alone,"

I push my glasses up my nose, I've always been by myself in my room.

His head snaps to me. As if realizing what he's said, his eyes widen. He rambles, "I mean not that you can't stay here alone, but I didn't want to leave you- uh, I mean I wanted to be here with yo-." His cheeks flush red, he pushes his hair aside, leaving a new smear of paint on his forehead. He rubs his middle finger and thumb together and goes on, "w-what I'm trying to say is t-that I wanted to stay in this room. A-and t-there are lots of things, b-better things to do than g-getting drunk, like this painting I just finished. So um, that's the reason." his whole face burns crimson. He turns around and busies himself with tidying up.

"And if we were in a hotel, I wouldn't have had the problem of finding a place to put this," he fusses after a minute of silence. He strides to his suitcase, avoiding me, and puts his belongings in his bag. "And I need to walk all the way to the other hallway to just wash my hands," he mutters.

He's acting weird. I'm sure if I remain quiet the situation will get awkward. So I say, "Yeah, cause ten steps is like a hell of a journey to take." My fingers tracing the outlines of the title of the book in my lap.

He angles towards me, his cheeks have somewhat turned to their natural color. "Very funny." He rolls his eyes as he walks to the canvas, and I grin.

"And be careful not to scare anyone," I point out. He pauses and turns to me with furrowed brows. "You look like a demon has possessed you," I add, with a smile. He tilts his head to the side in confusion. "You're covered in black," I clarify.

His eyebrows raise high as realization settles in. He tries to wipe the paint away from his face with the back of his palm, but only makes everything worse. I cover my mouth with my hand to stop my tittering.

With each attempt, the color spreads more across his features, and I give up on holding back my giggles.

He checks his reflection in the window and complains, "I can't go out like this,"

I suppress my laughter and lay the book aside, and push myself off of the bed and tread to my suitcase. After shuffling around, I find the package of hand cleansing wet wipes and return to him.

"Can you?" he asks in a soft voice, displaying his painted hands.

I ignore my anxiously raising heartbeat and shove away the thought of how close I have to stand in front of him. And how uncomfortable that might be by reminding myself that we've been good with each other lately. He's been nice to me.

Swallowing my nervousness, I smile and nod at him. 

He leans down and stops at the same eye level as me. His gaze fixes on my face as I step closer to him and tear open the packet.

I train my focus on the black stains and wipe the color as gently as possible. I divert my entire attention to the task, in order to stop my mind from wandering to how close our faces are.

As I finish cleansing the last smear of color from his face, I allow myself to scan his features, to make sure I have missed nothing.

Our eyes lock. My breath hitches as I hold his gaze. His eyes are a perfect combination of blue and green in this light, his pupils dilating, leaving a ring of color in its wake.

My heartbeat steadily rises. Adrien leans to me the slightest and I find myself struggling to look away from him. For a long moment, I lose my way out of the gravity of his eyes. Urging myself to move before I get myself into trouble, I take a step back and force a smile. "Done," I say, waving the cloth in my hand.

He blinks, and straightens himself in an instant, clears his throat, and murmurs, "Thanks," but he sounds hoarse. He takes retreats, putting more distance between us, and mutters that he should head to the bathrooms to wash off the remaining paint and rushes out of the room.

As he shuts the door behind himself, a breath I wasn't aware I was still holding escapes from me. I don't know what just happened but I do know one thing, it has the potential of causing drama and complexity. Whatever that happened must never happen again. I vow to myself and push this 'moment' into the depths of my brain in an unreachable box.

+++

((Well well well, what just happened?! 

XD It's like literally their first close call. So, do you think they're starting to have feelings for each other? Or it was a thing in the moment?

Note that I won't change my plot, but out of curiosity, do you want them to kiss? Or idk, be more than just friends? Or instead, date other people? =)) I would love to hear your opinion ^^

So tell me what you think about this chapter and I hope you enjoyed it.

Thank you so much for reading this chapter, stay safe, lots of love <3

Next update: Wednesday, get yourself ready for some action! XD  ))