Twisted

Chapter 30- Yes? (Today's the day!) PART 1

I clipped a stray strand of hair back and sighed.

Pablo had taken German to speak to him several days ago and he had not returned since, despite texting me to tell me he was fine.

Yet I felt something was horribly wrong and I simply couldn't decipher what it was.

Then again, I've never been able to understand German.

He's like a firework in the night sky.

Instant. Captivating. Mysterious.

And he comes and goes unexpectedly.

Yet, today was Violetta's birthday, so I was so sure he would come.

And I told myself if he did, I'd do anything to make him stay. For life was just so much better with him around.

I went downstairs later then I thought, to already find guests arriving, but nonetheless, Olga and Ramallo were already prepared. I took a mental note to not only thank them, but also my lucky stars, for bringing such amazing people into my life as I entered the room.

I flicked around looking to see who had already arrived and my eyes fell on him.

German.

He stood across the room in a polished suit, his hair combed back and his eyes on me.

Instinctively, I smiled at him, before crossing the room to meet him.

He never lost eye contact with me as he smiled.

"You're back." I said, as he held out his hand for me to take.

"I am. I had to do some things, wierd that Pablo made me see that, but I'm here." his smile was full and genuine and matched his sparkling eyes.

"And you're not going anywhere soon right?" I prompted.

German smiled, but a sad, knowing smile, "We'll have to see."

I sighed, "I was looking for a 'I'm not going anywhere' kind of response."

He laughed, "Yeah but what if you kick me out?"

I rolled my eyes at him, "Like that's going to happen."

German smiled his sad smile again, "Always a possibility."

 "Okay, then make a promise to me." I said stubbornly.

He smiled, like a child full of wonder, "Promise what?"

"That you will not, under any circumstances, leave me alone. Force me to allow you to stay if need be, but promise, you will not leave."

He rubbed his free hand along his jaw and smirked, "Okay."

Taking his other hand, I prompted, "Is that a yes?"

He smiled and kissed my hand, "It's a yes."

And before I could even squeal in excitement, I was turning around, to see why silence had fallen.

Then I saw why.

For Violetta was walking down the stairs, in a satin pink sequined dress.

A dress that belonged to my sister.

A dress that I could have sworn was not in our possession.

But in his.

In her father's.

In German's.