The Last Wish

24. Together

She looked at him, dumbfounded. But then said, "If I asked you the same thing, what would be your reply?"

Now it was his turn to stupefied, he would never reason his death with the truth, let alone with this stranger, his own blood would never know of it. If it weren't for the coincidental presence of Edward that fateful night, even he would've been in the dark. But it happened, and Edward saw it. He couldn't change that.

"Matt?" she snapped her finger at his face, breaking his trance and said, rather annoyed, "you keep blanking out very often. Is it just me or-"

"I'm just stressed, okay," he said, gruffly. He stood up and alongside him, she did as he did, with the bag of dirty, blood-soaked shards in one hand.

"Wait," she said as he reached the door, almost leaving. "Can we talk?"

"What else were we doing all this time?"

"No, like actually talk."

*

Matt sat in the living room, paitently, for their 'talk'. After he had reluctantly agreed to make proper conversation, she had insisted he give her a little time before she freshened up. This moment, he realized that none should ever believe a woman's little time. He wasn't counting, but he very well knew that it was past an hour since she had disappeared into the guest room.

He stared outside, towering from the ceiling to the floor the gigantic glass window gave the perfect view of the city of dreams beneath him, the afternoon light dimly washed over the tips of the skyscrapers, vehicles the size of a toy car speeding in the road blanketed by the snow. The atmosphere was hazy, dull like his current mood.

It was the same boring picture to Matt, every single day, the same boring procedure. It striked him how life would never stop for anyone, it didn't matter if one was left behind or not. Like the city of New York.

There was a little rustle behind him. "It's beautiful."

He diverted his gaze back to the only contrast in his life. Isabelle. She wore a very comical combination of one of his old clothes, a black hoodie and a pink short that reached many centimeters below her knee. Her brown hair was pulled into a messy bun that he was getting accustomed to. In all honesty, she was borderline comical, but Matt always found her funny.....and cute.

"Took you long enough."

She wasn't looking at him, her eyes rapted to the scene before her.

"Isabelle," he said, demanding her attention. "What do you want to talk about?"

She snapped out of her daze and sat opposite of him, smiling somewhat sheepishly.

"Uh yeah, so," she didn't know what to say.

He breathed out, exhausted. "Can you-"

"First," she started, nervously, cutting him off, "I wanted to say a thank you for extending your home as a temporary stay for me. I'm more than grateful for your sudden change of mind and apologize for my vulturous behavior of hitting your head. I swear, I didn't know it was you."

She stopped, letting it all absorb into him. Matt sat stupefied, it was funny how she'd suddenly turned casualty into a formal conversation. He didn't say anything, letting her continue.

"I know there must be a one o' one questions running in your mind, but I must say that I won't have the facility of answering all your questions." She stopped for a breath and continued, "it'll be nice if we could share something about us so in case of emergency we wouldn't need to fret about the other's," she motioned with her hands, not knowing how to put it in words.