"In Which Reality Resounds a Siren Call"

(Pt. 2)

· · ·

12: ?? AM (Blame it on the alcohol, I guess)

Encontrarse, Downtown Square

I instantly duck and hide in my chair, hoping that the seat cushion would just swallow me.

Fuck! Why did I just do that?

I should've played it down and pretended that I was looking at something over his shoulder.

But no-o-o, I had to duck and cover like a creepy fangirl guilty of gawking.

He probably thinks I'm a stalker or something.

I bang my head against the table.

My head lolls to the side, catching the few curious stares from a couple of teenage girls at a table nearby.

"What'cha looking at?" I demand in a slurring tone.

I could feel red stains blotting the skin of my ears and neck. Apparently, my internal scream was more like a physical 'scream'.

Tilly, wherever you are, I need coffee. I'm turning insane by the sec!

Soon enough, with the divine grace from the heavens, Tilly arrives back at my booth.

"Sorry about the wait, there were some issues with another customer."

I look up and peek through my lashes.

She places an empty mug and a decanter on the table while holding a coffee pot in her other hand.

I lift my head off the table and sit properly.

"Here you go," she expertly pours coffee on the mug then reaches for the decanter.

With a few sleights of hands, she makes a classic leaf design on the top of my coffee.

"Neat trick," I comment, inhaling the rich, yet light and the subtle, wine-y scent of the Arabica beans.

"It's still a work in progress, but I finally convinced Will to teach me. He's volunteering at the kitchen. Freddie's with him right now, while I cover for Papá," she smiles at the mention of her precious 3-year-old ankle-biter.

She grabs a seat nearby and sits across from me.

I blow the coffee for a bit, and unable to wait, take a generous sip.

I heave a sigh.

I look up gratefully at Tilly and smile. "Thank you."

"De Nada,"* she waves off and flicks her gaze at something behind us.

Her mouth curls into an impish smile.

My brows shoot up in question.

She rushes off to another but not before tossing me a wink.

I frown, my mind suddenly wandering towards my friends. Where the hell are they, and how are they now?

Of course, worrying about that was pointless. I already knew Tia would always look out for Keke. Tamieke and Joule always have each other's backs. Emile and Jhett will always find themselves into another crazy shenanigan, but at least they're together.

Yeah, I nod to myself, that was always our dynamic. But, where does that leave me?

Ugh, I furiously rub my eyes with the palm of my hands. Why am I even thinking like this?

I glance around, watching the tables around me. Each table seated a couple or two, obviously lost in their own worlds.

Even two members of the school's nerd squad were there, and they both looked stupid and in love. 

I sigh longingly.

WAIT-WHAT?! I vigorously shake my head and look away, shivering from the sudden onslaught of chills racking through me.

Who said I was sighing and in longing?

It sounds so disgusting and pathetic that I could feel ants crawling down my skin. Who wants a person equipped with emotional baggage and clinging to you? Or, a person who can listen and understand you like an unpaid therapist?

Damn, the last one sounded tempting.

NO, NO, NO!  I already have friends for that!

But it's different, the weak and pathetic side of me mumbles from the deepest and farthest recesses of my mind.

Do NOT budge! Don't even look at them! You've lived this long without the agony of it, you can suck it up!

This is not how Ave Michaels goes down!

Great! Now, I'm referring to myself in the third person.

My internal struggle is interrupted when, suddenly, a deep gravelly voice begins to speak.

"For this next song, I'm gonna be di'ling it down a bi'. It may sound familiar. I heard this one on the tranny*on my way here. Hope you like it." 

Before I can make out his accent, he already takes a deep breath; the sound amplified by the mic.

He begins to play, strumming his guitar again to another familiar tune.

I turn around, his dazzling pair of eyes widen as they settle on mine.

And then, he just...  stops.

His hand hovers on his guitar for a moment before he plays again. This time, he starts with a different tune and sings.

"It's not your eyes," he starts softly, his voice low and strangely soothing, like a lover's caress in a candle-lit room, underneath the sheets.

I close my eyes to its tender charm, letting myself be pulled deeper and deeper.

"It's not what you say

It's not your laughter that gives you away

You're just lonely

You've been too lonely, too long..."

I open my eyes, unable to resist the urge to peek at him.

He apparently doesn't have any conflicting thoughts of shame as he holds my stare with his own.

Almost like he's telling me he sees me — that I'm not alone.

The thought sends a shiver to my entire body. Excitement courses through me, bringing me to a different level of awareness.

I know, I've always been an 'eye-person',* But, come on, who should even have eyes like his?

His eyes are unarguably one of the most beautiful pairs I've ever seen.

Blue was an oversimplification. In fact, there was no way to describe them in mere words.

 If I were to attempt, it would be like gazing at the glassy surface of a pair of lakes in the middle of a dark forest. Silent and undisturbed, reflecting a silvery iridescent moon amongst a brilliant trail of stars, their beauty transcends to ways I can barely fathom. 

He has the kind of eyes that a woman would fantasize about while reading an erotica as she touches herself underneath the sheets.

They are the kind of eyes that pierces your soul, engraving itself into your memory, while they retain their mystery. They strip you down on the inside until you find yourself naked and vulnerable. 

It also didn't help that they were probably the only thing soft and sensual about him. They were wide yet gently curved downwards as if hiding some secret humor. The contrast of it all marks him deeper like an enigma. 

I never believed I would be sucked in from such a sight until those beautiful piercing eyes trained on me.

I shake my head. Well, that was a fun play of words I never thought I was capable of producing.

"All your actin'

Your thin disguise..."

I look down, a strange and indescribable feeling flutters deep inside my gut.

Surely, he wasn't really looking at me. 

I sneak a look from behind me. There was no one there but an empty table. I stare back at him.

This time, I swear I saw his eyes twinkle in amusement. The corners of his lips lift in the slightest motion, almost in a cynical manner, taunting me as if I was missing out on a piece of a puzzle.

I glance at them, quickly drawn.

I was wrong. It wasn't just his eyes that were sensuous. It was also his lips.

Full and undeniably kissable, I watch them form every word of the song. 

"All your perfectly delivered lies

They don't fool me

You've been lonely, too long..."

I wonder what they would feel like if we kissed. Would they be soft and pliant as he grazes mine in a chaste kiss?

Or would they be firm and rough as they ravage mine in an erotic battle of undulated passion, while his scraggly beard grazes my cheeks down to the sensitive skin of my inner thighs?

I clamp my heated thighs shut to where my lust-driven thoughts are leading me — down in my pants.

You're obviously still drunk, I mentally slap myself.

I hurriedly down the rest of my coffee, ignoring Tilly's alarmed look.

Side note: When did Tilly get back here?

I feel the scalding hot liquid burn my throat. I choked back a little, tears running down my eyes.

I can still feel him looking at me. It was like a frisson of electricity sizzling between us. An awareness shared only between the two of us like an intimate secret. A magnetic pull that prevents me from ignoring him.

Each word of the lyrics calls me back to the very spell he weaves, leaving me stuck in his mercy  — a place I don't want to leave.

"Let me in the wall, you've built around

And we can light a match and burn it down

Let me hold your hand and dance 'round and 'round the flame

In front of us

Dust to dust..."

Despite my common sense, it felt like he was singing for me. That somewhere, in the lyrics, he was trying to tell me something. 

But then again, I felt the same for any artist on my playlist. Maybe, he's just that good of a musician.

He leans a bit more to the mic, drawing me much further than what I thought was possible.

I shiver at the all-out force they carry. And yet, for some unknown reason, I can't look away. I don't want to look away.

"You're like a mirror, reflecting me

Takes one to know one, so take it from me..."

It was unlike any stare I have ever shared with anyone. This one was so potent, so exhilarating to the point that it's inexorable. It was like our souls are caught on fire.

Blazing.

Scorching hot, radiating and raging.

Like an inferno in men's broken paradise. (Great, now I sound like a poet.)

"You've been lonely

You've been lonely, too long..."

I feel my body start to sweat despite the coolness of the booth behind my back. The fire leaves a trail of embers landing delicately on my skin, burning their way inside. My nerves tingle down to the very ends of my fingers and toes as they were set ablaze.

My pulse quickens, reflecting its vigorous cadence.

Each second feels like an eternity as I wait for it to end.

Only, the fire wasn't burning out too soon.

Not until it consumes all of me.

And like a siren call, it won't end unless he breaks it.

"We've been lonely

We've been lonely, too long..."

Just like that, the spell was over, and I was snapped out of my maudlin reverie.

Everyone is clapping, except for me. The last note is still echoing in my ears.

Just seconds after he finished the song, you'd think he would take a bow and leave. But, he didn't. He was still staring at me.

I look down at my table. What the hell was that?!

That feeling of helplessness. Of being trapped. Of being consumed. Of losing control. From just a simple look.

I peek at him through my lashes.

DANGER, my brain shouts now. I need to get away from here. From him.

It took all the strength in me to stand up. The first attempt had my knees buckling.

Damn you, alcohol!

My second attempt was a tiny bit more successful as I wobble from the table.

"Hey!"

Before I knew it, Tilly was steadying me on my feet."Tranqui!*  Easy there, chica.* Where are you off to?"

"I need to go home" I mumble, not trusting my voice.

Or the likelihood of him hearing me all the way from the stage. Which is silly as to why I thought he would care at all. Strangely, I felt like it did.

I didn't want him to think my eagerness to escape was because of him.

Somehow, I just have the feeling if he knew the effect he had on me, it would only feed his ego.

Tilly shakes her head in disapproval. "Not like that, you will."

"You" — she looks me in the eyes, her voice soothing yet imperative — "are bunking with Freddie, Tia, and me for the night. I'll tell your aunts you're staying at our place."

I frown. "But Tilly, the bistro"—

"Shush" —  she cuts me off, her hand in the air telling me to let her finish — "I'm almost done here anyway, and Papá won't mind if Sly closes up tonight. Now, wait here, si?"

I want to argue, but she gives me a non-negotiable look. I sigh, my shoulders slumped as I sit down on the chair she vacated.

"Bueno," she claps her hand and goes to the staff room.

I tap my fingers on the table, minutes ticking by as I wait for Tilly. What's taking her so long?

My back was facing the stage, stiff and rigid, knowing he's still around.

I stare intently at the bar, distracting myself with the rows of drinks in their deep-colored hues. It works for a minute until I catch a glimpse of his reflection on the metal decanter.

He was exiting the kitchen, his guitar case slung behind his back.

He begins to cross the room in long casual strides. He looks around.

I tense.

He pauses for a moment before walking again. Right in my direction.

The muscles tightly coiled inside me loosens.

I spring upwards and rush towards the nearest exit.

· · ·

FINALLY!!! 

Who could this guy be that sent Ave running away? Why did Ave run away in the first place? 

Write your answers in the comment section down below. And while you're at it, you can stretch your finger and click the 'vote' button (I hear finger exercises are the new rage ;)) 

· · ·

PLAYLIST

Dust to Dust — The Civil Wars

· · ·

*[F/N]*

De Nada — (Spanish) means "It's nothing."

Tranny — (Scottish slang) means radio.

Eye-Person — (slang) a person who is more likely attracted to a person's eyes.

Tranqui — (Spanish; informal) means "Calm down" or "Settle down."

Chica — (Spanish) means girl. It's similar to the playful way English speakers use "man/woman" when addressing a friend.

· · ·

· · ·

Copyright © 2017 Lei André