"No matter your problems, face them with a bright smile and a bucket of chocolate ice-cream," nana once wisely told me. At the time, I was barely twelve and thought that I could summon a unicorn if I just believed in myself.
A decade later, despi...
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Maeva's point of view.
Oh my god. Look at him trying so hard not to tear up. I'm such a dumb person... should I put an ice swab on it? Maybe an ice-cream bucket? Agh... what do men do in this situation? Do I call an ambulance? He seems like he's on the verge of dying.'
You know, only you are able to turn a sorry into a let's take you to the hospital?'
How in the world was I supposed to know that he was going to show up and place his crotch right in the aim of my foot?
'So now his crotch got in the way of your kick?'
"Mark, are you okay?" I whisper and he flashes me a mischievous smirk. What is wrong with men and hiding feelings? His soul's screaming OUCH, why is he trying so hard to smile? He could sob for crying out loud, I swear I won't judge. I might even join him in a round of weeping.
"Yeah, is everything okay?" I'm the one who should actually be asking that. Nevertheless, I hand him the box of macarons and he cocks an eyebrow up.
"You made those?" he asks, the pain that was once in his eyes slowly turning into confusion.
I nod and take a deep breath as the puppy face I'm intending on flashing requires a lot of energy and oxygen combustion. "I'm sorry," I say, which earns me a devilish smirk. I'm in no place to be criticizing or throwing snarky arguments, so I ignore his facial expression.
"For what?" he asks, and I swallow hard, for there are far too many things I haven't apologized for. Here goes nothing...
"Sorry for leaving without telling you –
Sorry for ignoring your calls and messages –
Sorry for calling you a baby –
Sorry for each time I snapped at you like a crazy person –
Sorry for throwing a microwave at you –
Sorry for kicking you in the..." I conclude, my index pointing at his crotch.
He stands still, his face stern as ever and his clenched jaw popping from under the skin. Is he angry? Or emotional? The pain hasn't faded away, perhaps...
"Come in, Maeva." If he's still calling me by my whole name, then he's yet to forgive me. Pft. I guess I'll have to try harder.
Looking around, my jaw drops at the decor alteration. Last time I was here, all the books he had stacked were closed and neglected. Even one of them served as a coaster. Now most of them are wide opened and have red marks and notes all over them. Could it be...?
"You're preparing for the bar exam..." I say and he inhales hard before nodding in a shy yes. See? He just needed someone to snap at him. I wish I've done it earlier. "Welcome to the nerd realm," I add and a smile escapes his lips for split seconds after which he's back to his deadpan.
