I sit in the small coffee shop close to school finishing some homework from philosophy. My left hand is healing a bit, but it is still uncomfortable. My stitches look weird and are very visible on my creamy skin. In philosophy, we had a journal to write based on the question: 'Is life a solo voyage?' I kind of have mixed feelings on this one.
The ways you can interpret this question are endless. My immediate answer to this is: 'in some ways. yes, this (life) is a solo voyage. You're born alone, you die alone. I actually find this quite depressing, but I can't seem to think that this is untrue. I relate this to the 'half glass' analogy. If you say that the glass is half full, you are positive, but if you say that the glass is half empty, you're negative. I think that I make a more internal connection between the two. Both have two answers, one positive and one negative, but neither incorrect.
I look up to the sound of the bell and see that leather jacket again. My eyes follow down the leather to his hand which is entangle with an others' fingers. She's blonde with blue eyes. Short, but she wears high heels, tight leather leggings and a top that is so tight that her chest was bound to pop out of that closet any second. I scoff to myself quietly and look up to find his honey gaze on me. I lean back into my chair and grab my tea, gulping down a sip of the boiling hot liquid to take the pain away from the lump in my throat and the ache in my chest. I tear my eyes from his and go back to writing.
In the big picture, yes, this is a solo voyage, but that doesn't mean that we remain alone throughout the entire journey. We meet people, make memories, make a coupe mistakes, learn a couple lessons, and do so much more than just 'sailing aimlessly' along the way. Yes, there will be some who will stay on the direct path, but that is so boring! We can't find ourselves, as human beings, and create our identities if we don't go off course once in a while. We may, ultimately, be on one solo voyage across an ocean of possibilities, but who is stopping us from (theoretically) taking our time to enjoy the ride. I'm not saying that the end doesn't eventually come, but for the years that we have to make life as good as is gets, who wouldn't take that?
I stop there are look up once more. They are sitting on one side of the booth. Zayn has his arm around her and whispers things into her ear that make her smile. Every so often he looks my way to make sure that I see what is happening, and trust me, I see every detail. I try to focus on things other than that, but the knife that he twists in my chest just keeps deepening the opening wound to the inside of my chest. I sigh and gather my things, put my coat on, then get ready to go. As I am walking out the door, I look back once more and meet his gaze. He winks at me and the turns and kisses her. Just like that, right in front of me. I roll my eyes and walk out of there, trying not to care even though I end up choking back tears as I run as far as I can away from him.
"Did it work?" Angela asks from beside me. I nod and scoot away from her. Now I know why I don't remember her. Yeah, she was drunk when I fucked her, but she isn't anything special. "Aww, come now. Let's have a little fun." She bats her eyelashes and scoots back to my side, leaning over a bit so I get a view down her shirt-- or would, if her top wasn't so tight. Her hand rubs over my thigh and I can feel my cheeks start to flush.
"Get off me." I say blankly and slide out from the booth. "Thanks for your help." I turn and walk out. She shouts a subtle 'call me' as I walk away. 'Not likely' I think to myself. I think of what it would be like to have Ava there with me instead. Would that same tingle come back? The one that I got when I slept with her in my arms. It doesn't matter anyways. I shouldn't even be thinking about these impossibilities.
Now Ava knows what kind of guy I am. I don't have time to fall for someone, especially someone like Ava, because I know that I will fall too hard and too deep. No matter how much I want her, I can't have her because I know that I will never be good enough for her. I will never be what she wants.
"Hey Mike!" I say, walking into the bar area. His blue eyes meet my brown ones and he greets me with a light hug. It's nothing serious, a friendly gesture, but it's nice.
"Hey. How's your hand?" He looks to my left hand and sees the bandages covering the stitches.
"It's okay." I tear his gaze from my hand by awkwardly placing it behind my back. "A little uncomfortable at times, but it is healing. Thank you, by the way, for everything." I nod in appreciation towards him.
"Anytime. I just won't be getting you to cut limes for a while." We both laugh a bit and Mary comes out from the office.
"Oh, Hello dear, How are you feeling?" She places a warm hand on my shoulder. I smile and say 'good' in a small tone. "Well, if you have some time on your hands, you could help me in the office? I have some pay roll to do and some files to organize." I nod, since I was supposed to working today anyways. I follow her into the small, white office and sit down on a dark wooden stool that Mary sets out for me.
"Right, okay, so can you separate these and count them by bill and then tell me how much is in each pile." She say, handing me a whole pie of money. My eyes are about to pop out of their sockets. There is at least $15,000 here.
"Mary, I'm not so sure that you should be keeping this much loose cash." I say.
"Oh, This is personal stuff. I get it here and there. Plus, I don't trust banks." She smiles at me. I nod, without a word, and continue with what I'm doing. It takes me twenty minutes just to separate the bills by value, then another hour and a half to count and record all of the totals. I give her all of the bills and the totals before grabbing my stuff, waving a small goodbye to Mary and Mike, and walking back to my apartment.
I take my shoes off, go straight to my room, and open the drawers to the taller wardrobe. The fabric of my shirt hits the wooden floor and I look for one of my t-shirt. It's dark in my room, but the sound of deep, heavy breaths break the silence. My own breath hitches in my throat when I feel two hands on my waist and a pair of full, soft lips pressed to the back of my neck. I inhale deeply, and recognize the scent.
"Zayn..." I let out a shaky breath. His arms wrap around my waist and I feel the fabric of his shirt against my bare back. He turns me around, and I can't help but notice that our faces are very, very close together. I feel a spark in my chest, and a twisty feeling in my stomach. "Zayn." I whisper to him.
"Shh." I whispers back and leans into my lips. I'm confused, he was kissing someone else this morning. What happened? He kisses me again and leads me to my bed.
"Zayn, what are we doing?" I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him again. It's weird, when he does the things... that he does, I feel absolutely broken by him. Like I am on my knees begging him to stop. I'm screaming at him to stop. But right now, in this moment, it all stops and is replaced by something else. I feel warm, and tingly. My pulse is fast and my hands are shaky. I'm scared that I will do something wrong.
"Rachael..." He whispers against my neck. My heart drops into my stomach and the knife twisting in my stomach lunges deeper within my flesh. I push him off me and try to cover myself. Dammit Ava, he did it so easily too.
"Zayn..." I sense my lip quivering as I feel my hand swiping across his cheek. I see him shake his head a bit and blinks before looking at me again, this time in a different way.
"Ava." He looks surprised, and blinks a couple times, as if checking that it really me. He looks down to my bare torso and then back up to my face when I sniffle a bit. "Dammit." He shoves his fingers through his hair in frustration.
"You're drunk... Aren't you?" I shake my head in disbelief. "Just... just go." I turn around and search for a shirt when I hear the shuffle of feet. He is behind me, and I tense once more. He carefully places his hands on my sides again and turns me around.
"I'm sorry." He whispers. He takes my hand and sits me on the bed. It's like I don't have control over myself anymore. My mind is screaming at me to do something, but my body doesn't respond. Zayn pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his toned torso, and hands it to me.When I don't take it, he bunches it up in his hands and drops in over my head, guiding my arms through the holes. "Lay down." He whispers, and goes around to the other side of the bed. I oblige, getting over the covers and giving into him. His scent fills my nose and I smile at the pleasant feeling that fills me once more. He lifts my head and puts one of his arms there, and then he tilts my head up towards his and kisses me gently. I smile at him and he kisses my cheek once more before lying his head on my pillow.
Although I am more than confused, I just let anything that is going to happen, happen. I hear his breath even out and his grip loosen a bit, and I too fall asleep. The voice in the back of my head interrupts my thoughts just before I am about to fall asleep. 'You know that this is all too good to be true, don't you?' And that is how I am left for the rest of the night, thinking. Dreaming about a place where Zayn and I weren't so complicated.
Hey guys! Okay, so as always, thank you for reading.
I am feeling better and I am adjusting to medications that the doctors are giving me. They are still running tests to see what is wrong with me, but I promise that I am okay. I am going to try to update a second time today because I am going up to my cottage for a couple days. But if not, then I will update Saturday morning.
As always, comments, likes, and favorites are always appreciated. I go through all of your lovely comments, and try to really interpret the constructive criticism that I get.
Anyways, until next time,