Since the weather is too perfect for a little walk, Julia and I make our way back from the cafe. We walk side by side, sipping our coffees in peace. She raises her hand and greetings her acquittances here and there. What a social butterfly.
"You're awfully quiet," she says, "still refuse to talk about him?"
I glance at her from the corner of my eye, pretending not to know what she's talking about. "Who?" I ask, trying to sound casual.
Julia gives me a look so flat, I nearly laugh. "Don't play dumb," she says. "Tall, black hair, blacker eyes, seeing you like you're some kind of math question that needs to be executed. I won't even be surprised if he confessed that he was a spy or assasins or was paid to kill you—"
Someone needs to stop her wild imaginations—that somehow it must be me. I cut, "Geez, chill, are you high or something? Also, it's nothing."
"It's not nothing!" she insists, nearly bouncing with excitement. "You talked to him! Come on, don't make me drag it out of you."
I can't help but grow a small smile. "It was nothing big," I say, voice soft. "He just admired my art, it was just like I said to you before."
Julia gasps dramatically, like I just revealed he proposed marriage. Or such. "And?"
"You'll be disappointed because that's it. Nothing more."
She clings her arms to mine and continue walking slowly. "But I wonder why he acts like that. To you. I mean, he has an 'unique' way to show his interest, doesn't he?"
I wonder why, too. "Maybe because he's just interested in my art, Jules. Stop making a big deal of it."
Julia hums thoughtfully. "Well, he's the dark, brooding type. Which is my second favorite flavor after 'golden retriever boy'."
I roll my eyes but chuckle. "You're hopeless."
"And you," she says, bumping her hip against mine, "are smitten."
I open my mouth to deny it, but nothing comes out. Instead, I find myself thinking about the way Theo had looked at me—like he could see right through the walls I so carefully built around myself.
Not flirtatious.
Not mocking.
Just ... seeing me.
It's terrifying. And thrilling. Like a pair of eyes that watch every single move I take. I should've felt uncomfortable and scared, but surprisingly I didn't. I don't even know why ....
***
It's already late when I finally settle down on the couch, with my sketchpad on my lap. I said to Theo that I don't really like drawing characters—because it makes me feel bad whenever I stop midway and stop the sketch—but actually I always draw characters almost every day.
I open commissions for living. It's so hard to manage my time because I'm still a freshman in academy and there are lots of assignments. But, this is the only way I can make money. Working a part-time job would make me physically exhausted, so I decided that commissioning arts online as my freelance job—not really a freelance to be honest because every day I push myself hard to make at least a lot of progress. This is my only income. If I don't take any commission, I can't pay my rent.
This small living room is unusually quiet. Julia is going to club with Liam but I didn't bother to agree when she asked me to join. Nope, I don't want to be wandering alone again in a club. Good thing Felix found me and genuine enough to drive me back home last week
Just as I'm about to open my phone—to ask Julia what time she'll be home—it buzzes sharply in my hand.
Unknown Number.
I hesitate, thumb hovering over the screen. For a second, some silly, hopeful part of me thinks it could be Theo — but no, Theo didn't even ask for my number. And Elliot ... I don't think it's him. It's probably just spam. Maybe Felix? Well, high possibility that this is him. I swipe it open.
Hey, stray cat. Are you going to a club again today? Just so you know, now you have my number ;)
I stare at the message, my lips involuntarily twitching upward. Yeah, expectedly expected. I roll my eyes at the screen but find myself typing back before I can stop myself. I want to try something.
Who is this?
A second later, the typing dots appear. Then disappear. Then come back again. Like he's debating what to say. And then my phone buzzes again—a call this time. My heart jumps a little. I hesitate for maybe a second too long before answering.
"Hello?" My voice sounds suspiciously breathless.
I hear him chuckling. His voice is smooth, warm, like ... melted chocolate? Like trouble. Like danger. "Ah, so you know who's this but you still sent that message. I see how it is. But I guess my call caught you off guard, huh?"
"Why are you calling me?" I ask, immediately act defensive. I can't admit all his speculations.
"Because texting would just turn into flirting. And I believe you know I'm much better at it live. Should've done it in person to be exact, but a voice call works too I guess," he says without missing a beat. I can hear the grin in his voice.
I start to get familiar with his cocky personality. I just shake my head. "Confident, aren't you?"
"Confident, charming, devastatingly handsome, undeniably charismatic ... you forgot a few. Should I even continue the list?"
I snort, despite myself. "You're unbelievable."
"And yet, here you are. Answering my call," he teases lightly. "What's that say about you?"
I lean back into the couch cushions, staring at the ceiling like some answers would be shown. Maybe I'm just too curious. Maybe I shouldn't have picked up the call Maybe I'm lonely. Maybe Felix's carefree and bold personality is a good distraction from the complicated mess my life feels like right now.
"I'm bored," I say finally, knowing it's a lie but not caring. I'm in the middle of working my commission but a little lie won't hurt I guess.
"Good," he says, sounding satisfied. "Then you won't mind entertaining me for a bit. Maybe answering my questions would be fun and make you less bored."
There's a comfortable pause between us. Not awkward—I'm not sure if I'm able to feel uncomfortable around him. "So," Felix says, voice dropping slightly, "who's that guy in the supermarket yesterday? An old friend? Or ... an ex?"
That question hits harder than I thought it would be. The cat got my tongue.