De Luca

Lukyan and Markus

18

Maybe I fell asleep as I can't remember anything other than a vanishing view of a monument that looked like a rainbow just puked all over it.

What I meant was the term -Colorful.

He opened the door for me. Everytime he does that a sentence keep popping up in my head, 'Chivalry isn't dead'.  Why? Opening a car door is that hard even if you have hands? No, it's not. I can do it by myself.

I can do everything by myself.

"Camila, are you okay?" Markus. I kept a foot out on to the concrete surface as I looked up at him. A lukewarm smile plastered on my face, I said, "Ah, yes." He reciprocated the smile as he extended a hand towards. Without further ado, i kept my palm in his.

The moist air in the parking lot accompanied us as we walked towards the entrance of the luxury-est hotel even in the whole Russia, i assume. With a name sounding like that I could only expect not selling a kidney to pay the rent for a day.

Lukyan...

Maybe the owner named it after someone?

The building almost touched the sky, with a whole lot of lights adorning it's windows.  Silhouettes of the nobels living in there with a hip glass on their hand filled with champagne. A wild imagination or is it real. A possibility that I, in reality, see a figure on more than two dark windows. It appears their gazes are just fixed on me and my every movement.

I shrugged off the thought as Markus was still holding my hand. The warmth of his skin oozing on to mine. Comfort. It was almost satisfying.

"Take a seat, Camila. I'll sort out the talkings." He said as he deserted me in the lobby of this extravagant place. I was grateful he didn't make me go through that tiring conversation. So, instead I lost myself in the beauty of anything that the four walls confined.

Chandeliers is a must for every place a rich man walks, huh?

My dumb mind had a lot of pointless questions that would never be answered even if asked. Everything just keep on mustering up in a great pile of unanswered questions and promises never looked back upon after made.

Some questions were pure and genuine like that of the innocent thoughts in a childs mind. It's all the questions I missed out in my childhood. The ones I should've asked my parents. My mother and father. The ones who must have answered their child's deranged doubts.

"Camila?" I met a pair of brown orbs looking down at mein concern.

There is always that all time river of strange concern in his eyes. The strong current of worry and something else. Something other than concern. Something like that of in the eyes of Stephan when I could elicit small smiles from him. Small elevation of his lips. The beauty in the single gesture and the crystal that shone in his eyes when he did that.

Something called love.

Something that concerns me.

But I pretend to not care. Because...what if it's just a bluff of an image made up by mind?  As you know, psychology has many reasons to prove what you see is wrong. They may say it is an illusion. Or maybe a feeling i was missing. Maybe a sight i was missing. Something I hope to feel again.

A lot of maybe's.

I caught myself falling into the earthquake in his eyes. The silent storms. The foreign feeling of a new taste. His eyes bewildered me.

How could something so simple, something so small, could hold such precious details.

He was still waiting for my response. Looking at me longingly and a hand extended.

Chivalry isn't dead.

I glanced at it. In a quick haste I took his hand in mine, maybe just for the warmth, and stood up. Giving him a curt nod as a way to say, 'lead the way'.

He tilted his head, lips twitching up to form a slight smile. "To the room!" He said as he pointed his head in the general direction of the elevator.

"Did you just imitate strawberry shortcake? By the way, that was the most tremendous imitation I have ever heard" I laughed. 

He laughed along with me. For a second i wished for everything to stop. To be lost in this moment.

His face was like spring flowers, pleasant to the eyes. His laugh like the melody of larks, euphoric to the ears. A melody I've never heard before but could tell how it would feel. 'Cause now he emphasized everything that could be termed as enchanting. Captivating. Entrapping.

He could be described as the glamour of the seas during the sunset. The loveliness of roses when given by someone perfect. He could be described as anything that felt fresh and pure.

His closed eyes crinkled at the sides and his perfect set of pearly white teeth bared, he looked at me. As if struck in that eternal moment, my eyes betrayed to move away from the mesmerizing sight.

I was awestruck. That was just a simple sentence and that was just a normal laugh but I could not comprehend the meaning behind it.

You are just looking more in to the situation. My mind retorted.

"Let's get going" he broke the spell and started striding forward in rhythmic steps.

He may had took the habit from marching everyday during his training time in the Cops or he's just too perfect that even the interval between his steps had to be in sync.

My eyes were glued to every single motion he made. His every word. The movement of his lips. The echo of his footsteps. I could only focus in him.

He makes me feel the same way as Stephan. He makes something flutter inside me. He makes me sick. He feels like Stephan.

The good version of Stephan, actually.

But not better.

I'll come back. His voice still reverberates. He's still in my mind somewhere. But there's no coming back, Stephan. The place you're now is eternal. It's a one way path. I want to tell.

I want to talk to him again. Feel his ugly beauty. Feel the sickening happiness he offers. Feel the adrenaline of everyday in his house, never knowing when someone might set a bomb and burst the whole place.

A fairy tale now. The palace, the villains, the serpent not-gonna-be-mother-in-law, the typical rival cousin.

What is happening to me, God?

A soft sigh of exhaustion slipped my tongue. "You must be really exhausted." He exclaimed. "Yeah" I breathed out. "We're here" he stopped and left my hand. Exposing it to the sudden coldness. The keys dangled between his fingertips. He threw it above, catching it in a reflex just to put it in the keyhole and twist it. Just in one swift motion.

What awaited me in the room was someone to my horror. Some thing to my horror.