Before Take Off

13. not always

"And now I'm looking at you, and you're asking me if I meant those words. Could you believe me now, when all I've done is keeping my true self from you? Could you still want me, if I tell you the truth about me? Because if you could, I definitely would."

"W-What?" I heard Lewis mutter before backing off. His eyes were back in their normal color, indicating that our moment had flown away. I noticed him gulping down before shifting in his seat to face forward.

"Oh, c'mon!" I protested, frustration taking over my whole body. Although I was beyond wasted at this point, I could easily tell that he also desired to kiss me a few seconds ago. I pouted and crossed my arms across my chest as he put the gearstick in R and disengaged the parking brake. I kept my mouth shut as he reversed out of the parking spot until we hit the road. "Why wouldn't you kiss me Lewis?"

He leered at me with a distant look in his eyes. His lips were pressed into a firm line and he was grabbing the steering wheel a bit to tightly. "Why would I kiss you Ayla? I'm sorry if I misled you but I had no such intention. Yes, it would be inappropriate if we kissed."

Bullshit. Instead of snapping back at him, I turned on the radio, skipping through radio stations until I settled on a calming, acoustic song. I rest my head on the side window, watching the deserted streets of London at 2:30 a.m. I couldn't help myself but wonder what my best friend Sara and my parents were doing right now. Were they asleep? Were they out searching for me? Were they worried, furious?

This isn't you, my subconscious muttered and it was true. I wasn't a kind of person, who gets drunk two nights in a row, tries to kiss strangers at 2 a.m. or blows of all her future plans for a reckless adventure. But then again, I wasn't the same person that I used to be a couple of months ago. My intoxicated subconscious desired a cinnamon and lemon smelling shelter, a steady routine that I could follow everyday. However, in the depths of my mind, I knew that kissing Lewis was just a self-protection mechanism for me, because two days was only so much to be crushing over a guy. He was doing me a favor by not letting me kiss him.

But why would you feel devastated when he refused you?

I ignored the bothering thoughts of my own that kept popping into my mind, as I fixed my eyes on the road uncoiling before us. Apparently, Lewis was driving over the speed limit because all I could see was a blur of streetlights, apartments and the never-ending darkness of the hazy night. I couldn't foresee what I'd be facing in a week's time, when I depart from London but I was sure of one thing. I was not going to die, regretting every single one of my unaccomplished dreams.

The car ride over to the cafe was completely mute except for the sound of the turn signals and the acoustic music coming from the radio. When Lewis pulled in the driveway of the familiar building, I was still feeling crushed and I was still far from being sober.

Once we were inside of the café, I practically collapsed on the nearest couch and threw my ruffled hair up in a ponytail. I peeped at Lewis as he locked the front door, still not braking off the silence, and didn't pull my eyes away from him even when he turned around on his heels and our eyes locked onto each other.

"Have you ever thought that you were doing everything right, in the exact way that they needed to be done, yet something wasn't fitting? "I finally spoke up, trying to focus my gaze on his chiseled face. "Have you ever felt like you've been living somebody else's life, which was perfectly organized, yet lacking something very important? Feelings."

He walked over to the couch in two large steps and settled down beside me. His sand brown curls were ruffled as he kept on brushing his long, slim fingers across them all evening. He looked knackered; his eyelids were drooping over his beautiful hazel eyes, almost causing his dark brown eyelashes to form shadows over his cheekbones.