There was a tree on the hill next to the fance and this small house. The jungle was right behind the village. It was so calm and green. I stood on the hill for an hour before Liz went out of the house and noticed me. She wasn't happy.
„Go away” she said louder.
But I didn’t moved. I sat under the tree and waited. Hours went by.
„Hello” a very caucious and shy Luke appeared on the hill „Liz told me to tell you to go” he said
„Are you telling me to go” I asked.
„No” Luke came closer „May I” he asked looking at the ground near me.
„Sure” I siad.
He sat down and placed his guitar on his lap.
„So” he was about to ask.
„Do you feel happier” I asked looking at the wide open field.
„No” he wasn’t looking at me.
„So” I asked.
„I was stupid. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me and come back”
„I can forgive you” I said and he smiled.
„Are we good” he looked at me he had no idea what I’ve been through the past two days. „I wrote a song..”
„Luke, I can’t be with you after it. I’m to confused” Luke opened his mouth and closed it.
„Was…wa… Ashton… too good”
„I’m not gonna be with any of you, because… I can’t choose” I felt pain.
„I’ll win you back” Luke made a serious face „I’ll play you the song” he touched the strings.
I had only this one line of their song stuck in my head „My english love affair" .
It was ealy in the morning. Harry left for a plane to England. I was in a hotel hall checking out. Ashton was calling. I ignored it. Luke called. After the seventh time I picked him up.
„Hi, Aston told me you had spent the night together. So now you can forgive me” He said.
„I…” I looked out of the window.
I didn’t do it with Aston. I was too afraid. The second part of the plan was still ahead of me. The fake part.
„I… I’m doing it with Harry, today. I’m going to England to spend the night with him” I said.
„Oh” Luke was silent.
„I’ll meet you in LA after” I said tunring him off. I felt the strange athmosphere that filled me after these words. I wasn’t thinking about it.
The umbrella was dripping with rain.
„Hi” he said smiling
I wasn’t able to get out any words. The drops were slamming on the pavement. They were so cool in the humid, sprinkleing, oceanic air.
„If we would do it” I asked and his eyes flashed.
„Do you want it” he asked.
„Let’s do it” I whispered.
It sprinkled when he took my hand and led my towards the house. When he closed the door. The fire was cracking in the fireplace. The armchairs and sofas filled with pillows gave the impression of warmth. It sprinkled on the windows. I knelt on the carpet. He crouched opposit me. I flet his hands. His fingertips. Cold rings.
„I dreamed about it before I met you…”
I dreamed about it, I was just deciveing myself.
It sprinkled when his hair scattered as raindrops on my face, lush, dark curls. It sprinkled when our saliva brushed against our lips in the tiniest kiss and it sprinkled with his fingertips when he exlopred my neck with his hands, with his lips. And I immeresed myself as a drop into a puddle, deeper and harder. Beyond the borders of the pavement, and the core of the earth and the depths of the universum.
We - both used to the pain as ruffled edges of uneven raindrops, we adhered to each other mergeing into one as a raindrop melting into another raindrop. Why should I whisper about our secrets. If I had kissed each of his tatoos.