Love Song - 5

"Apology not accepted."

His handsome face frowned for a second, but then he shrugged, seemingly resigned.

"If that’s how you want to play it," he said, and then, with an evil glint in his eye, he said "Congratulations on the new job."

Then he spun around and went to Miss Blonde, to bop around awkwardly again. The Spanish melody had melted into some slow hip hop beats again and Saul, as if by magic, appeared at my elbow and took me in his capable arms, swinging me around as easily as if we had been doing this all our lives.

He was talking, being friendly and cute, but my mind was still on Will.

"Crystelle? Are you listening to me?" he asked, and I shook my head to break myself out of my reverie.

"Sorry," I apologized, scanning his face. He was a nice guy who was showing me a nice time. I shouldn’t be so rude.

Smiling, I pushed every thought of my new boss to the back of my mind and tugged Saul closer. "C’mon. Let’s show them how to do it," I said, and then dragged him to the centre of the dance floor.

But as soon as we were there, the beats melted into a sweet piano melody. Suddenly, it was as if the room exploded. Everybody cheered, and then not one person wasn’t on the floor.

Saul smiled.

"One of boss’s new songs," he explained, seeing my bewildered expression. My mouth formed an o, but no sound came out. My heart was thumping hollowly in my chest, and it felt like my stomach had been on the biggest, fastest rollercoaster around. In Will’s voice, the lyrics floated to my ears, whizzed around my body and settled in my heart.

Saul pulled me close so my head was on his shoulder, and I closed my eyes so nobody could see the tears that suddenly pricked there.

"You were my life, my soul, my everything,
You held me here on the ground
But when I learnt how to use my wings,
I decided I’d been around,
I took flight thinking I was whole,
But I didn’t know about the hole,
That lived inside of me,
Because you, you took my heart
When I thought we could be apart
And out of all the lies, this is true

I never could get over you…" The tears were almost overflowing and the lump in my throat throbbed with sadness. It was a beautiful song. It made me happy and sad at the same time. Happy because of his success. Sad because the song wasn’t about me.

I squeezed my eyes tighter shut and locked my arms around Saul’s neck. He, in turn, tightened his grip on my waist. I could feel his breath in my hair, and feel the comforting warmth of skin on mine. But it wasn’t enough. I opened my eyes and saw Will and Miss Blonde swaying but a few meters away from us.

That was enough. Being in Will’s arms was always enough.

I spent the rest of the celebration with various people, and received my schedule from an old woman named Tabitha, before leaving quickly.

The ride home seemed longer than it should have. I stumbled into the house, kicked my shoes off, and collapsed into bed without taking my expensive dress off or brushing my teeth. Then, with clumsy, tired limbs, I dragged myself up, did both, and then fell back into the soft covers in my underwear.

The last thought I had was of Will; a memory. It was the memory of the night when Will first told me he wanted me to be his as a steady relationship. He had given me his braided leather Spanish bracelet as a sign. I wore it, and still wear it, on my ankle, whether it matches my outfit or not.

It was the one thing of his that I held on to. The rest – all the pictures, the shirt he gave me when I had a spontaneous sleepover at his house, the letters he wrote me, the songs he wrote about me – I burned in the bonfire we had on the 5th November. Mum had asked for any junk to get the blaze going, and I had happily proffered my memories of the man I loved.

The bracelet though…I couldn’t burn that. It meant so much to him and me both. To him, it was the last thing his mother gave him before she passed away. To me, it was last thing he gave me before he walked away.

It held value, too. The black leather wasn’t real, but good imitation. The diamonds studded into it were, though. They were definitely real.

The memory was when we stood, quietly serious, beneath the arch of flowers in Lunesdale Park that was said to be the most romantic place in London. He had silently slipped the bracelet off, but I hadn’t comprehended what that meant then. I was still devouring the details of our earlier date, of the lingering kiss we shared afterwards.

When he took my hand, though, and pulled me into his arms, I knew there was something he had to say.

"Crystelle Antonia Giovanni. Will you go steady with me?" he had asked sombrely, his shoulders hunched slightly as if he expected a rebuff. That was one of the things that I loved about him. His obvious modesty.

He truly didn’t know that he was the hottest thing to walk our streets since the big bang. He wasn’t aware that every girl hounded after him, and he only hounded after me. I had never understood that, but what can I say? Love is blind, deaf and quite possibly dumb, too.

I had smiled, my heart bursting with happiness, and simply nodded. He had whooped, punched the air, and then blushed. We both laughed at him before he cupped my face with his large, strong hands and…

That was a dangerous path to walk down. I would not think about that. The day after the next was when I began my job, after all. I couldn’t think about my soon to be boss that way. It was just wrong.

>> Will <<

It was like a boot to my stomach, seeing her again. If I had known it was her, I would never have agreed to the deal with her dad. I knew it was her before she even turned around.

I always went the back way, but when a perfectly shaped, tall woman went in before me, my heart stopped. And when I walked in and caught the familiar scent of her hair, my stomach jumped. It was her. I knew it was her. That beautiful hair, those long, shapely legs, and tiny, irresistible waist.

And then she did turn, and her eyes caught mine. I don’t know what it was like for her at that moment, but I wished with all my being that I did know. Because if it was half of what I felt then, my world would have finally been complete. Those eyes…wow.

The last time I saw those eyes was when…when I left her, simply because she said the three words I so wanted her to say and it scared me shitless how she seemed to read my mind, how much I wanted her, how much I needed her. That last time when her violet eyes were glowing softly with unshed tears.

My eyes devoured the sight of her hungrily, like they had been starved for too long and then been presented with a banquet. I made comparisons. I remembered. She used to wear her hair up to her shoulders. I decided she suited it long. She used to use fake tan to hide her pretty, olive toned skin. Now she left it. I decided she looked absolutely beautiful this way. Her dimple had deepened. Her once tight curls were looser. She was stunning, familiar, everything I had ever yearned.

And as unreachable as the man on the moon.