QUEEN OF HEARTS

8. I'M ONLY TRYING TO HELP.

🦋MIA🦋

The resting garden is a serene and enchanting oasis, the ground a soft carpet of emerald grass meticulously manicured and velvety underfoot. The air is filled with the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers, carried on a gentle breeze that rustles the leaves of the trees. Delicate butterflies are dancing through the air adding a touch of whimsy in the scene. The benches are crafted with sturdy wood, their surfaces polished a smooth finish. Each bench is uniquely designed with elegant floral curves and patterns blend seamlessly with the garden's aesthetic. Every time I take a rest in this garden, I'm filled with calmness and tranquility. It is a place where time stands still and where worries and cares melt away.

I've been sitting here in the resting garden waiting for Lucas to come so I can give him his jacket back. We've met in this garden twice before and I know for sure he likes relaxing and unwinding here. I don't have his phone number yet so all I can do is remain in the garden hoping he'll appear. Thoughts of my weekend spent with my parents are still weighing heavily in my heart. The desire to discuss my plan to quit modelling lingered within me but courage faltered and the conversation remained unspoken. I hope I'll be able to address the topic during my next visit home. I hate procrastinating this but can't help it.

I had my first class today and it wasn't boring but fun actually. The lecturer was lively, captivating all students' interests and keeping them engaged throughout the entire session. The concepts were presented in a clear and straightforward manner making it easy for me to grasp the subject matter. It set a positive tone to my learning journey that left me excited and motivated for future classes. Checking my watch, it's 5:15 pm. I've been waiting here for Lucas for more than an hour now, his bomber jacket cradled in my arms. Having had enough of waiting I get up to leave only to finally see him walking over to his usual bench that I've been sitting on, an all black outfit on as always. Oversized turtleneck perfectly fitting his sculpted chest and biceps, triple pocket strap cargo pants clasping onto his long legs, each pocket strap adding an edgy touch to it and finally sneakers completing his outfit. I can't help but admire his tall and broad frame, his aura irresistible.

Glancing around the garden I notice that I'm not the only person drawn to his magnetic energy that's drawing attention from every corner. Fellow students are stealing glances at him, captivated by his presence and striking appearance.

He walks right past me like he hasn't seen me and sits on the bench, totally ignoring me. Not having the time for this kind of antics, I throw the jacket on his lap, picking my bag and walking out of the garden.

"So annoying." Lucas mumbles behind me, getting up and holding my hand making me face him. "Were you waiting for me?"

"Yes to give you the jacket back."

Releasing my hand, his gaze drifts down to the jacket he's holding, his brows furrowed slightly as he brings the fabric closer to his nose, inhaling deeply. A faint smile then tugs at the corners of his lips. "It smells like strawberries."

"I hand washed it. I hope it's clean." I say because it was my first time hand washing a jacket.

"You could have used a washing machine." He states and I bite my lower lip, avoiding his gaze and shifting my eyes towards the green manicured grass beneath my feet. "No fucking way." He pauses for a moment trying to figure something out and solve a perplexing puzzle. "Don't tell me you don't know how to use a washing machine. Are you fucking serious?" Then he laughs at me, disbelief written all over his face as his eyes widen. "How old are you?"

"I'm nineteen, what's your point?" I cross my arms against my chest as he continues laughing.

"You're so spoilt. I'm not surprised though. I bet your parents have hired maids all over the house to handle all the chores." I remain silent because he's right. Lucas gazes at me for a long moment, reading me and trying to get the truth out of me. "Talk to me, I know you want to."