Walking The Line | ✓

Chapter Fourteen

"Vany did you see the news!?" My father cried as soon as he stepped through the threshold.

I should have gotten used to his odd behaviors by now, but he always ended up catching me off guard.

His dark hair streaked with silver close to his temples was damp with tiny white snowflakes clinging to the strands, so was the case of the winter coat that covered his tall bulky form.

It was just their luck that it would start snowing two days short of their arrival.

I had been speechless on Wednesday when Kühl had made me look out the window after we'd had our breakfast. We had stayed there in my living room for a few minutes contemplating the winter wonderland before our eyes. There was nothing more beautiful than the first snowfall.

The best part of that day however was when we found ourselves hanging out on the sofa and watching an episode of Stranger Things. After we'd washed the dirty breakfast plates--me washing, him rinsing because he wouldn't have it otherwise--I turned to face him, taking note that he looked too comfortable in my kitchen.

"I'm gonna stay in bed and watch Netflix." I'd said between sniffs. "Make yourself at home." Then I paused. "If anyone asks where I am, I've left the country."

All it took was one look at his face to realize his brain hadn't made the connection.

My brows raised, "Stranger Things."

Nothing.

His face remained stoic as if I had given him a five minute speech about Web coding.

"Stranger Things. The TV show. You've never seen it?"

"I've heard of it." He had the guts to admit.

"You...heard of it?" I asked, my voice raising incredulously.

His eyes looked impassive,  not quite getting what was the reason for my reaction. I realized later that maybe I'd come too strong on him.

Anyway, we ended up watching it on my living room tv because no way I was letting him come close to my room. The tv was smaller than the one I had in my room wich my brother had gifted me after he'd changed it for a different model.

Somehow lounging beside Friedrich fr**ing Kühl, in my pajamas, our thighs inches away from touching each other while the sun reflected over the snow covered streets and a warm cup of tea in hand, felt like the most intimate 60 seconds of my life.

I blinked at my father as my brain processed the words that had come out of his mouth. My gaze dropped to the newspaper he was clutching in one hand while the other one rolled a big suitcase inside my apartment.

"What?" My gaze jumped from him to my mother who had just come up behind him and back.

"Juan!" My mother scolded, sidestepping him and coming forward to engulf me in a hug. "Hello Vany, dear." I reciprocated, wrapping my arms around her slightly round form. She pulled slightly back to stare at me with worried eyes, "You look tired."

I offered her a close lipped smile. "I'm good. My fever broke yesterday and it doesn't feel like I'm swallowing needles every time I try to speak anymore."

"You should try gargling some salt water."

"I already did." I had tried everything. "Thank God December's just around the corner. I don't know what I'd do if I had to give a class like this."

I'd thought I would make it to the last day of classes but my doctor put his foot down telling me I had to rest. Plus, Kühl's hawk-eyed gaze made sure I didn't have a reason to lift a finger. Preparing breakfast had been the only thing I managed to pass by him. Later, when I offered to cook lunch, he dismissed me immediately and ordered Mexican from the only place I approved of instead.