Elysium

Chapter Eighteen

It soon began to rain as we made our way back. Lights from the proceeding cars made it difficult for us to actually see the lanes, especially since there was no source of light other than the street lights, but they were still quit dim.

Liam turned the radio up a bit, to lighten the mood and remove any sort of awkwardness between the both of us.

He shared some personal stories over the course of our meal, I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that his mother bluntly told him she never wanted him. He assured me that his parents were indeed in love but his mother was never eager to form a family with him. The detailed description about the awful ways his mother neglected his sister and him were far too much for me to handle.

From an outsiders view on things, you would never think Liam would be in the middle of a battle not only with himself but the white colored brick wall that is his mother. No matter how hard he tried to forgive her and reach out, she wouln't even turn around to look at her son, even if it was her last time.

I was too concentrated on the rain flowing down ever so slowly against the car window that I hadn't noticed his reflection on the window.

I turn my head and face him as he has one hand on the wheel, and the other tapping on his lap along with the beat of the music. His face is soft and his expression very neutral. His light brown eyes seem to be observing the many streets we seem to be passing by. I think we're lost but I don't question him as he takes sharp turns, into narrow roads. He soon becomes aware of my stare and looks directly at me with a shy smile. I can't help but return the gesture and place my hand on top of his. I don't know exactly why, but at the moment I don't care.

He seems to relax under my touch and soon grasp my hand so that our fingers are well intertwined. Momentarily giving me a small wink as he gives his full attention to the solid black road with a mischievous smile still apparent on his well structured face.

It's a strange thing, we don't question what just happened but all that is happening, is occurring in the moment and it feels nice not to be questioned or thinking for that matter.

"You listen to rap?" I laugh slightly as he begins to rap along and bounce his head up and down to the beat.

"Of course I do! Why?" He smiles as he looks over at me for a split second before returning to look ahead of him.

"I just wouldn't expect that from you."

"What did you expect?" He questions me as the song comes to its bridge.

"I don't think I expected anything really, but you seem like the type to listen to classics."

"I do love, I listen to a lot of different artist!" He exclaims.

I decided to challenge him and have him list a few of the artist he's interested in, they all range from Kanye West, Diana Ross, Michael Jackson, Justin Timberlake to Frank Sinatra, The Rolling Stones, as well as one of my favorites The Temptations . He did admit that he discovered most of his favorites by listen to the radio as a kid.

"My mum hated my music, she always claimed is bad and interfered with school work, my father on the other hand, he let me explorer all types of music, we even learned how to play piano together." He smiles as mentions his dad.

He seems to be reminiscing on several memories he shares with his family, they seem to be bittersweet but he tends to focus more on the positive rather than the negative.

"What about you? I feel like you listen to classics. Or are you one of those American indie girls, who listens to, what's that band called? Nirvana!"

I burst out in laughter because of his strange assumption that Nirvana is indie.

"You are aware that Nirvana is not an indie band?" He laughs as he nods his head.

"I know, I just wanted to hear you laugh and I couldn't think of another way to make you laugh but it seemed to work." He shrugs.

The roads soon become familiar and I know we are almost home. People still seem to be roaming around the streets with umbrellas and coats. The gloomy setting brings a strange motivation for me to write. Moments like these is when I tend to pull out my phone and note down the small ideas that come to mind. As the dark screen come to life, I notice I have a text message from Zayn.

Strange considering Zayn isn't the type to text. He much rather tell you in person and when he is unable to do that he will just call. I hope it's nothing bad.

I open the message, the typed words don't take long to process but my mind begins to panic. My hands start shaking uncontrollably as I begin to open the window. "You'r father is looking for you."

The cold natural air isn't helping me as much as I hoped it would and I start my normal breathing routine to calm myself down before I begin to eventually stop breathing.The tingly sensation that was soon commencing in my hands slowly fades away with every slow exhale.

Liam doesn't seem to notice my strange actions but keeps looking over to check on me. Maybe he doesn't want to question me or scare me more than necessary.

If my father is looking for me something must be going on. Something horrible could have happened. Maybe this is his way of luring me back into his trap. Just his way of keeping me near site.