ETHAN.

Whoever said Hilsa Fries isn't fun should get their head checked out because that girl is full of surprises.

The more time I spend with her, the more I get to know her, not her angry, violent part but the part people don't normally see and I'm happy she decided to show me. I've never seen a woman so interesting and yet so mysterious. She knows so much about animals, facts that I would have never thought about or even be curious to want to think about and she keeps all those stuff in her head. I don't know how she does it but it's amazing, she's amazing. Competitive. Brilliant.

When I said wear something casual, I thought she was going to make an effort for me but the white shirt and black joggers is an ultimate fuck you to me and I'm impressed. What was I thinking she would dress up for me? That girl lives for herself and that is the best way to live.

She isn't wearing any makeup and she still looks damn good, God she is so beautiful, not many people can pull off that look but Hilsa shows us the natural look is made for her. As usual her hair is packed in a braided ponytail. 
  
Her eyes are fixed outside, watching as we pass through sea of tree. The city is crowded and it's hard to find a place for some peace and quiet, so I'm taking her outside the city for a meal.

No conversation has passed between us since we got inside the car and their nothing awkward about it, we are in a comfortable bubble and she keeps me entertained by singing to every song that comes on the radio, and her feet is on my dashboard.
   
"Can you put your feet down? How are you comfortable like that?" She's wearing seatbelt and I don't think her sitting posture is comfortable.  
  
Feeling her glance at me and says, "you invited me, so you'll have to deal with it."

This is Hilsa, the woman that gives zero fucks. She's right, I invited her, I should deal with it.

"I can but I'm worried about your spine, the way you're sitting doesn't look all too comfortable."

Sh hums and the next I know is her removing her feets from the dashboard and drops them down.

She clears her throat. "You're right, I wasn't comfortable."

I tuck my lips inward to keep my smile. "You're a fan of mainstream music," I point out.

"How so?"

"You know every song that comes on the radio."

"Yes. I just put on the trending songs on Spotify on repeat while I paint, it's not hard to learn the lyrics like that," she answers.
   
I thought this day would suck because I don't know her but I was wrong, it's actually going better than I expected. She's opening herself to me and hasn't asked me anything except for my major, she isn't curious about me like I am about her and it's all good, the less she knows the better. Today is all about her and I will do everything in my power to make it the best.

I turn right and drive through an opened gate and continue driving until I get in front of what looks like an abandoned building.

"We're here," I announce, turning off the ignition.

"An abandoned property outside of town, tell me the truth, Ethan, did you bring me here to kill me?" I know the question is meant to be a joke but she sounds serious. Also, this is the first time she'll say my name, it rolls off her tongue like it's meant to be only said by her.
    
"My axe and mask are in the trunk, come quietly or I drag you out forcefully," I tell her.

She chuckles and unbuckle her seatbelt. "Seriously, what are we doing here?"

I open the door and face her to say, "Come and find out."

Before I can step out she asks with concern. "We are not entering that building, are we?"

"No, why?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing." Her mouth says nothing but her eyes says an entirely different thing, something flashes in her eyes, if I can be confident enough I would say fear but she masks it immediately.

Why would a place like this scare her? Maybe it's not the building but she's afraid of something and this place just reminded her of it.

Should I pretend like I didn't catch the fear? We could just go back. Hilsa doesn't trust me, if I should call her out on it, she would probably not want to speak to me again.

So yeah I'll leave it.

We alight the car and close the door. "Come on." I start walking, ten feet in, I notice I'm the only one walking.

I look back to see her still standing in front of the car, scanning the place.

"Hilsa."

She faces me. "Just so we're clear, you are not going to hurt me, are you?" Again the question is meant to be a joke but she is serious. She is not the person to joke around.

It's this place, it reminds her of something.

"We can just go back," I suggest and walk back to where she's standing.

She shakes her head. "No, I didn't mean to scare you, I just want to be sure."

"Other have tried and no one have succeeded because you got to them first, remember?" I remind her of her earlier words to me. "Even if I want to hurt you, you will get me before I dare cross you."

She smiles. "Now you're learning. Lead the way."

I take a deep breath and offer her my hand, praying she takes it this time. She shakes her head and walk past me. I'll take that as a no.

Jogging towards her, I match her pace and leads her to the backyard where I set up a picnic around the rose garden. A mat is spread on the floor with a picnic basket in the middle of the mat.

Glancing at Hilsa to see which expression she's wearing. She's admiring the view and the smile on her face is enough to make me proud of my efforts.
   
"What is this place?" She asks curiously.

"My family's estate, it's like an escape place but we haven't been here in years." Not as a family at least, I come here when things are too hard for me in the city.

We walk to the mat and get down to sit. Hilsa sits criss cross, facing me. She asks, "how did you have time to prepare all this?"

I open the basket and start taking out the treats inside. "I didn't. I asked our housekeeper, Mary for help. This is all her." Mary is a lifesaver. I called her this morning, and she prepared everything for me.

"The roses are a nice touch, who takes care of the garden if you're hardly here?"

"We have someone. I'm sorry I don't what you like so I just had her prepare something and everything," I chuckle nervously. "There's chicken, lots of chicken because I love chicken, there's fruits, all sort of fruits, there's hmm sandwich, roasted mushrooms, chocolates, juices," I name as I pull them out of the basket.
    
"I love chicken and fruits and chocolates and roasted mushrooms. Say thanks to Mary for me," she says in a perfect British accent and the way she pronounced Mary as marry.

"Your British accent is too good, almost like you were born there."

She chuckles and reaches for the grapes. "I wasn't born there and I've been told that numerous times. My mother is–was British and I spend some time in England. I don't do it intentionally, it just pops out." She sounds nervous, and she tosses the grape inside her mouth.

"You look pretty when you smile," I tell her.

She chews the grape, swallows and reaches for another. "I know." She throws that one in her mouth.

There is nothing that can faze her, she didn't even blush to the compliment. I love that. It's important to know how you feel about yourself than have other people tell you, I mean it's nice to have people tell you you're beautiful from time to time but it's best if you know and don't wait for others to tell you.
   
"Your tattoos," she begins, reaching for another grape. "Do they mean something or did you just get them?"
   
She's asking questions about me. This is a turn of events. It's fair that I answer her questions.

I grab the grape bowl and pass it to her since she's focused on it. "There's real food if you're tired of grapes," I tease and open the takeaway filled with chicken dipped in sauce. "Look at this, I'm salivating, Hilsa, you should definitely ditch the grapes and have some chicken."

She nods and take a drumstick, she brings it to her nose and inhales, her eyes closes as she hums. "Smells delicious." She opens her eyes and takes a bite. And the sound that comes out of her mouth is not one I've heard from people eating chicken as she moans. "This is absolutely delicious, you need to give me the recipe of this."

Mary is best, so I do have an idea of how she's feeling.

I take a drumstick and eat.

We both eat in silence. Hilsa mixing grapes, chicken and the chicken sandwich. I guess we both have that in common. Chicken.
   
"You haven't answered my question." She brings it up again as she uses tissue to wipe the corner of her mouth where the sauce stained.

I admire her more for not caring about how she looks whiles eating. She didn't ask for fork and knife or try to act like appearance matters. I'm saying this once again, this girl acts the way she wants and doesn't give a fuck what other people thinks.
  
"Each and every one of them has a meaning." I don't have tattoos to showoff or try to be a bad guy. They all mean something and having them carved on my body is the best I could come up with.

I don't want to talk about it because she'll know me and I'm not sure I want that right now, so I suggest something else.

"Let's play twenty questions."

She frowns. "Huh?"

I nod, giving her an encouraging smile. "It'll be fun, you can ask me anything, anything." I dangle 'anything' in front of her, wish I could add 'anything but my tattoos'.

"It's a stupid game but I'll play and I'm starting." I have no problem with her starting. "What's your middle name?"

I breathe out a laughter because I wasn't expecting that. "It's Quill."

She throws her head back and laugh really hard, covering her mouth with the back of the hand clutching grapes. "I'm sorry." She snorts, not sounding sorry. "Your name is Ethan Quill Willows." She laughs again.

Her smile is beautiful but her laugh is something else, the sound she makes is out of this world. Everything she does is all too good.

What is she doing to me? Why is she perfect to me?

"Guilt. What's your full name? I'm talking middle name and last name."

She chuckles and eats a grape. "I know what full name is, Ethan. My name is Hilsa Shimmer Reneé Fries."

It's my turn to laugh. Her name is Shimmer? Shimmer!

"Cool name."

She rolls her eyes and throws grapes at me. "It's better than Quill." She reaches forward to pick the grapes she throws at me on my crotch but before she can touch me she stills when she realizes where she's about touch.

Having her this close to me is really bad for me, a wave of her vanilla shampoo crosses my nose and the smell of her is dangerous.

Inhaling softly and slowly releasing the air.

I shouldn't get hard. Not now. Not now.

She clearly her throat and leans back to where she's sitting. Thank God.

"What's your favorite fruit?" I ask, breaking the awkward silence.

"I don't do favorite." She throws another grape inside her mouth as she says that.

"Are you sure? You are pretty attached to that grape and haven't giving other fruits any chance."

She rolls her eyes. "One question per round. This is your third. What if your father's company isn't there? What would you have done?"

I stare ahead and think hard about her question.

It's not like it's a must for me to take over his company, if I didn't want to do that I wouldn't but it's because I don't know anything else, since my broth–since I was born I've been told the company would be mine. It's been a constant reminder through kindergarten, all through highschool and when choosing majors. 'you have to carry on the family legacy, the company is your birthright' he always says, so that didn't give me the chance to explore other things because I didn't think I had any options.

"Honestly, I've never thought about it. Do you have a boyfriend?" I need to know before I shoot my shot. Wait... Am I thinking of shooting a shot with Hilsa? It's Hilsa Fries, I shouldn't forget.

She lifts her eyelids and makes eye contact. "No."

No boyfriend. No boyfriend. No boyfriend.
   
"Why did you invite me out today?"

"I want to spend time with you."

"Why?" Looking serious.

I don't have a right answer for her and then I remember the unspoken rule of the game. "Two question in a row is not allowed." She brought it up.
   
"What types of books do you read?" I repeat the question to divert her eyes away from me.

She blinks and purses her mouth, this little gesture makes her looks cute. "Hmm... Fantasy like Harry Potter, The Vale, The Lost Souls In Ackyl, Lord of The Rings, okay I like mainstream everything."

She doesn't seem like the type, just like I know romance wouldn't be on that list.

"You?"

"Classics. Shakespeare, Dickens. Austen."

"The boring type."

"What? Say that again,"

She straightens her posture and gives me a daring look. "The boring type."

"I will make you read all my favorite books one day including books on finances." I promise.

She chuckles. "You can try. Take off your shirt," she commands.

What?