"Be a darling and explain to me the idiotic reasoning behind your decision to send Max to my flat while I'm in the most vulnerable of states?" I interrogate Eloise two days later over the phone, completely cured.
"What? I was unavailable. And, you know him," she says too calmly for my taste.
"We've just met him days ago! He could have been a murderer!" I yell, then remember something, "You know, now when I think about it, I wonder what happened to that girl..."
"What girl?" Eloise asks absentmindedly, clacking of her keyboard loud and clear.
"Never mind," I rush out, not in the mood to explain such a delicate situation over the phone.
"He didn't kill you, so I don't see the problem."
"Couldn't you have sent Georgette?"
"You should be thanking me," she dismisses my question, typing away. "Don't pretend like there's not some weird chemistry between you two."
"Excuse you?" I shriek, "That was not chem-"
"You looked more than cosy in the back of the car when we were riding back."
"We were bickering at each other the entire time!"
"Exactly. You need someone who can keep the pace with you."
"You're insane." I shake my head in disbelief. "I'm hanging up."
"Fine. Be stubborn. We still going to the movies tomorrow?"
"Yes. See you at seven."
For the rest of the day, I clean the flat, leaving the windows open to air out all of my hidden germs. I work on my script, and order a take in. Around 6 o'clock, my phone chimes with a message.
Are you alive?
Unknown number.
Who's this?
You are. I saved you. No need to thank me.
Max. Oh God.
What do you want, Max?
Lots of things.
I roll my eyes.
I'm sure I can't help you with any of those.
Au contraire, little one. For example - wanna grab some dinner?
Are you asking me out?
No. I'm asking are you hungry.
I ordered takeaway.
Ah. You're too fast for me. Tomorrow, then.
Tomorrow - what?
After the movie, we can all grab dinner.
You're going with us?
Yes. Didn't Eloise tell you?
Weirdly, she failed to mention it.
Ah, she wanted it to be a wonderful surprise.
Look, Max, I don't know what you're trying to do here, but whatever it is, I'm not interested.
In me? Oh, no. How will I survive?
Honestly, I don't care.
Relax, little one. It's just a movie. We can hang out, can't we?
We can, I just don't see why.
It'll come to you in time. Farewell until tomorrow.
Feel free to bail on us. Farewell.
I'm first in front of Gaumont Alesia, the cinema we agreed to watch Parasite at, when a message arrives. Unbelievable, I think, while I read how Eloise has fallen ill and can't make it. Apparently, she caught whatever I had, and was waiting until the last moment to see if she feels better. She sends me a picture of a thermometer reading 39 degrees Celsius. Like I believe her.
"Hey," a voice beams behind me, making me jump.
"Max," I turn to him, faking a smile. A wide, mischievous grin is plastered over his cleanly shaven face, revealing how happy he is with his little prank. Admittedly, he is devilishly handsome when he smiles, the dimples dancing on his cheeks.
"How old are you again?" I ask sarcastically.
"Old enough to have sex," he whispers like he cares someone might hear him, before winking at me. Against my better judgement, I find it funny, but keep a straight face.
"You're hilarious."
He shrugs in agreement, like he can't help it.
"Among other things. Where's Eloise?"
"She's not coming," I say with a scowl. She must be scheming, and I will eventually prove it.
"Interesting," He sing-songs, tapping his index finger over his lips, while his thickly lashed eyes almost glitter with amusement. And something else. Something that makes my insides warm up.
"She's sick." I try to say confidently, but my eyes are glued to his lips, and the faint, pale pink scar I've noticed the other night. How did he get it?
"You're a proper little germ incubator, aren't you?" He says fondly, like he finds it cute. I still watch how his lips move. Is he a good kisser? "Am I next?"
"I didn't kiss you, so let's hope you die of something else," I point out, now fully imagining kissing him.
"Yet," he says confidently and takes my hand into his. A simple gesture, yet it brews a storm inside of me.
"Huh?" I mumble, overwhelmed, while he gently tugs me towards the entrance. When I fall in step next to him, he leans in and says,
"You didn't kiss me yet."
YOU ARE READING
Stone Cold
Short StoryNathalie makes an unlikely acquaintance with mysterios Max during one of the longest nights in her life. She finds him annoying, he finds her alluring. What ensues is a lot of back and forth, that ends up with a - bang. NOTE: For mature audiences o...
