Chapter three

I flick the lighter on and off, carelessly. The breeze puts it out again, and again, with ease. I'm fascinated by the flames. The way they flicker and dance, dangerously, holds my gaze awhile. Cigarette smoke flittered in front of me, like a blowing wind, entwining in itself. It moved so slowly and gracefully, It was almost relaxing to watch as it moved slowly past my face. I breathed it in once more feeling that familiar buzz flow into my brain. It was too early for being awake. The sun hadn't even risen fully, leaving a strange kind of colour to the sky. I sat on my window sill, legs hanging over the side of my house, barely scraping the grass below. I looked back into my room, making sure the boxes were still in front of my door. It was too early for my parents to be awake, but I still feared they would walk into my room, rage forming as they saw the death stick in my hand. I was far past the age where my parents could control my actions, but this didn't stop me hiding my smoking from them. I heard the birds singing their morning song to one another, and I thought only of him. This almost sickened me. How much he had taken over my mind. Every happy noise, every beautiful sight, every laugh that passes my lips, there is only him in my mind. Since that wonderful night in Oxford, I can only think of him. The words float absently around my mind, without my permission mostly. Not that I mind thinking of his admission of love for me, but I do find myself thinking of it more often than is probably necessary. I hear a car pass the end of my drive. My window is closest to the gate, the entrance to the whole estate. Not many cars pass by, because the location is so remote, so when they do, it catches my attention, and I always wonder for a second whether they might turn in on the red gravel and enter the estate. It passes quickly and I go back to looking at the ground. 

Holding the smoke in my lungs for as long as I can, I look at my phone. “5:30” I whisper, breathing out. The smoke hits my window, some of it catching my eyes on the rebound, causing them to water. In annoyance, I stub the cigarette out and throw it to the ground, jumping out of the window after it. My window is pushed shut and I walk over the grass, taking to long way round to the front of my house. I just need to escape the house for a while. I can't sleep and the warmth of my room does nothing to help. I'm still in my pyjama shorts and a strappy top. I slipped my green hunter wellies on as I passed the back door, where they sat outside. There's no doubt that I must look at my most flattering at this moment. My hair is fortunate to sit nicely a good deal of the time. My one and only good physical feature. I can sleep on it and wake up with it looking good to go. I didn't bother to check the mirror this morning so I have no idea what I look like. I don't see how it would matter, there are two cottages on the estate, but I know none of them are booked at the moment. The owners house sits on the estate but he's not here either, so even if I venture to the main estate, there's no one there to see me anyway. 

The gravel crunches underneath my feet, I feel irritable already this morning so I move to the grass, relieved that it makes no noise. The breeze is soothing on my face, which has been lingering on fever since the early hours of this morning. I rub the underneath of my eyes. Even though there's no one here, I still hate looking like a drug filled panda in the mornings. It's a cool summer morning and I know with it being so early I can walk as far as I want, and still return to my room, before my parents wake. The main estate is only a few minutes from my house at the main entrance, so I approach it quickly. It looks breath taking this morning as the sun rises slowly, revealing every inch of it's beauty. The front of the owners house overlooks the biggest loch on the estate, the view is spectacular, and on this morning, I have no doubts it will be amazing. I turn the corner to his house and begin to descend the hill towards the back door. 

I freeze suddenly, taken aback by the sight of a car parked in the drive. Is the owner here? I half turn around, not wanting to be seen by my mums boss, walking around the estate in my pyjamas and wellies. I feel stupid, he won't be awake at this time anyway. On closer inspection I realise that the car is not the owners. I know his car and this is certainly not it. Who else could it be? I linger on this question, running through all of the possibilities, trying to figure it out. I nearly break into a run as I see the handle of the back door push down. I realise it would probably look less suspicious if I just kept on going, as if I were just walking. Well, I was anyway. If I ran, whoever it is might think I was some kind of stalker, or a thief or something. The door opens and I try to avoid looking directly at it. Then I freeze once more.

“Becky?” The soft voice startles me, the one that isn't quite a man, but certainly not a boy. I jerk my head around, not in control of my body or it's movements.

“Alex!” D****t. Why did I call him Alex? I never call him Alex. Get your head in check woman! I think to myself.

“What are you doing here?” I try again, half teetering towards him, not knowing whether I want to linger to long, dressed as I am, but then I remember. The boy has seen you naked Becky, what have you possibly got to be shy or embarrassed about? I have to conceal a laugh.

“I wasn't expecting you to be up so early, I just got here” Sneaky avoidance of an answer there Zands, nice one. I ignore this and continue

“Yeah, I couldn't sleep, I needed to clear my head” I answer, beginning to smile at him, because I've missed him. I can't deny it. I've missed everything about him.

“Why, what's wrong?” He asks, adopting a grave look and I wince, thinking of a lie, because I can hardly tell him the real reason. Oh yes, I couldn't sleep because I'm so madly in love with you that I can't think straight or eat or do anything for that matter. He knows I love him, but I hate looking that weak. I didn't want him having control.

“Oh, just you know, friends and stuff” I lie. I can see him analysing my face. F**k. I hate feeling so vulnerable like this. If there's one thing I despise about him, it's that he can see through me so easily. He can read me like a book. I hate it.

“Oh” He replies, and that's when I can tell he knows I'm lying. 

We stand, just looking at each other, it feels like he's penetrating my mind. Then he seems to realise that I'm barely dressed. He looks me up and down with a mild amusement.

“What are you wearing?” He smirks and my hands immediately go to hide myself.

“I didn't get dressed yet” I mumbled, smiling slightly, and he begins to laugh. I have to walk down now, determined to at least numb his arm for laughing at me.

“No, no. I'm sorry, I surrender” He half yells, half laughs, crossing his fingers over into a crucifix and holding them up against me. I stop marching forward and just stand in front of him, a smug look on my face for defeating him.

He looks into my eyes then, finally close enough to me to do so.

“ I missed you” He admits, not looking away. I smile, childishly, but I don't say it back. Somehow my voice won't let me. Even though I feel it more than anything else in the world. Then he stops smiling, and I panic for a minute, wondering if he was waiting for me to say it back. I stop smiling too, but then he grabs me and pulls me into a tight hug, and I relax at his touch. I can feel him, smelling my hair. He kisses me gently on my temple. We stand outside for a good while, locked in embrace. I usually get uncomfortable in long hugs with people, but not him.

 I just stand, inhaling his smell like it's a drug. Even though he must have been driving for hours, he has that fresh, after shower smell, mingling together with sweet cinnamon fragrance that he's always had.

“You want to join me for breakfast?” He asks when he's finally let me go. I ponder this, wondering if this will allow me time to get home before my parents realise I left. Not that they'll mind that I left, but I didn't leave a note or anything and they might worry where I am. I wave this idea away and agree to breakfast, following him inside the house.

“So how long are you staying for?” I ask, watching him as he puts the kettle on, hoping he might reveal why he's travelled hours in the middle of the night from London to come here.

“Not sure, really, maybe a week or so, maybe more” B*****d. I'm sure he's doing it on purpose now. Keeping me in the dark because he knows how much it frustrates me not to know what's going on.

“Cool” I say, acting as though I couldn't care less how long he stays. Though this couldn't be further from the truth. Now that he's here, I don't want him to leave. I want to keep him here with me, always. I don't know how I let him go before, but now it's different. Now I don't want to, now I feel like I can't.

Reviews

[Ian H Morrison]

oh my goodness am i loveing this or what and another chapter awaits hooray