That Spanish Tutor (BxB)

CAPÍTULO 18

Did you ever get that feeling where you feel guilty over something even though you know you haven't done anything wrong? Well, that's what I feel right now as Mikel stares at me. Jorge, upon sensing that something's wrong, finally looks around and sees Mikel.

Mikel is with Sofía, his ex-girlfriend, and her arm is linked with his. I blink and try to compose myself. But with Mikel's strong, green eyes looking straight at me, like he's looking right through me, at my soul, makes my knees buckle. Jorge lets go of me, tucking his hands in his pockets as he stares awkwardly at Mikel. Sofía, on the other hand, looks totally oblivious at what's going on. She looks between me, Jorge, and Mikel, and she's got that confused look etched on her face.

Normally, in awkward situations, I would just quietly walk away, hoping not to be seen. At least it would save me from dealing with people who feel the same or people that are just way too "extrovert", and they would keep talking to you and you pretend that you're really interested, invested, and it would be your responsibility to nod, agree, and say "talaga?", "di nga?" (really?). It takes a lot of energy to do that, and I'm not sure if I'm mentally prepared to deal with that. Right now. Not with Mikel throwing me glances every chance he gets.

I wish the ground would just open up and swallow me whole so I don't have to deal with this. I hate being placed in a situation like this, like I did something illegally. I shouldn't feel like this because I'm not doing anything wrong. In fact, I could say the same thing with Mikel and Sofía being together.

However, seeing them together doesn't really concern me much to be honest. They have ended things between them–that's why they are called exes. The linking of arms, it's not really a big deal for me. Girls do that a lot. My girl-friends used to do a lot, and it doesn't mean anything.

I've heard so many people complaining about their relationship, about a potential third-party because "they've seen" some people do this and that to their partner, but isn't a relationship supposed to be built on trust? Trust has to be the foundation, right? It's what should support the relationship. The like, the love; it's the reason why you want to be in a relationship, right?

Wow. This is the first time I've been in a relationship and it already has turned me into some kind of person who's invested in love philosophy.

"Andres, ¿sí?" Sofía asks me in her thick Spanish that sounds a little too loud in my ears. Not hating, though. With her small figure, it's guaranteed that her voice is going to be so tiny that it hurts to listen to her. I nod my head. "Gracias por-oof, I remember you don't speak Spanish much. Mikel told me. But thanks for taking care of him."

Her tone doesn't sound so mocking at all. She looks at Mikel, who's still looking at me, and Jorge beside me is stiff as a board. He scratches the back of his neck. I fix my gaze at Sofía. "You're welcome. I'm still practicing my Spanish." My tone, however, doesn't sound so convincing.

Mikel and I have not spoken as we walk through the park, avoiding people as much as possible. He walks a little slowly, careful not to get hit by people walking briskly. He holds his arm close to his stomach, as if he's ready to defend it at any moment. And to be honest, I want to walk beside him and just shush people away near him so he wouldn't be at risk. I want to hold his hand as we walk through the lights that keep shutting in and out, as the workers can't figure out what's wrong with it.

Maybe I am jealous after all, but it's not because he's with his ex-girlfriend. I glance at him once again, and my eyes flicker down to Sofía's arms wrapped around Mikel's bicep, her head leaned down, resting on Mikel's shoulder. Then Mikel notices that I'm looking, and he immediately removes Sofía out of him in a gentle manner, saying "incomodo"–uncomfortable—to her. I smile faintly. I turn my head to hide it from him.

When we reach Puerto de Tarifa, Tarifa's port, it's even more crowded. The port seems packed with people coming in and out of Tarifa. They've got their hats on despite the fact that it's not sunny. It's already night.

From here I can see the calm waves, the lights reflecting on the sea. God I wish my brother could see this. Alex would totally love this place. He would really get excited about the stalls, and he'd take a lot of pictures. Then he'd send it to everyone, and he'd put funny captions, and he would tell me about it. Because he shares a lot. Not personal stuff, though. Just the things he's enjoying.

Both Jorge and Sofía check the stalls, and I'm left alone with Mikel. I hang my head low, grabbing my forearm as I find the ground below suddenly interesting. I can feel him walking slowly towards me, and my heart races. I practically hear every click of his heels. His shoulder, now touching mine, slouches down. I hear him breathe in and out. Then, slowly, his fingers touch mine. Just a graze, but it's enough to send shivers down my spine. When I lift and turn my head, Mikel is there, looking at me with a small smile playing on his lips as the music plays in the background. The tune of the guitars in sync.

Then Mikel finally intertwines his hand with mine, and he does it oh so gently. He smoothly slips his hand in mine and slowly closes it. I puff my cheeks, preventing the smile from coming out.

"Confío en ti," he mumbles, squeezing my hand. Though I did not understand the word he just said, and the confusion is clearly evident on my face, he makes sense to me. For some reason, he does. He chuckles. "I trust you. Though I was just jealous for a moment. That hug made me go ouch."

The guilty feeling comes back to me, and I hang my head low again. Mikel squeezes my hand. I watch our intertwined fingers. His hand fits mine perfectly, like they are made for each other, and I wonder how many people have gotten a chance to hold his hand because it's such a wonderful experience. "I'm sorry."

He clicks his tongue. I look up. He shakes his head at me, and the faint smile is still there on his lips that I badly want to kiss right now. "No need to say sorry. You did nothing wrong. I know I'm completely new to this, and you are, too, and we're figuring things out. I have nothing to be jealous of. Te elijo. Me eliges. We both chose each other, and that kind of cements that you're mine and I'm yours." I bite my lips. "¿Qué?"

"Nada..." I say, even though it's not nothing. The last time I got kilig was when I was watching a romantic film called Crazy Thing Called Love, and I swear I was smiling the whole time. I even had a crush on the actress, but I already forgot her name. Mikel raises his brow playfully. "Do Spanish people, in general, like saying romantic stuff? Are they really a flirt?"

Mikel grins, pushing his tongue against the wall of his cheek. And to be honest, I find that disturbingly hot. I totally have no idea what's going on with me. "Sí. Spanish people are romantic, and we like expressing it. Get used to it porque te mostraré todo lo que necesitas experimentar. Everything that you need to experience when it comes to relationships."

"Puta," I let go of his hand and put my hands on my face, blushing. He doesn't need to say that! I slap my cheeks, hoping the blush would go away. Mikel chuckles and looks over his shoulder, and sure enough, both our companions are coming back holding some ice creams for all of us.

"We'll continue this conversation later, ¿sí?"

"Sí,"