Strangers | ✔️

three

wednesday ☼

My heart nearly stopped when I heard his voice beside me.

He stood by his chair, now neatly tucked under the table, looking down at me. From my angle, his eyes looked heavily lidded, eyelashes covering dusky pupils. I swallowed hard.

"What? Me?"

A vague annoyance overcame his features as Damien repeated himself.

"Yes. Are you coming?"

Coming? Where?

I didn't voice my thoughts aloud, but my mouth was open before I could stop it.

"Oh. S-sure." I stuttered. "Lemme just, uh, return my books." I gesture to the stack of books in front of me. I didn't know why I said yes, didn't know why I replied at all, let alone obey his words.

"I'll be outside." He was gone before I could say anything, and I had no chance to take back my words.

"What?" I whispered to myself. Now I can't not go with him because I already said yes, and it would be extremely rude if I just stayed here, and, and... I looked sadly at the books in front of me. Guess I wouldn't be finishing them today.

I took my time noting the titles down on my phone, biting my lips as I returned them all back to their spots. My walk to the exit was slow, and I clutched my hands together, heart pounding in my chest.

I didn't want to be alone with Damien.

But he was indeed waiting outside, seated on the wide stone stairs that led to the library, looking over the university. His plain white shirt was eye catching under the bright sunlight, and I stood there watching him for a few seconds before finally mustering up my courage to walk towards him. He was licking an ice pop. As I stood there, he pulled out another packaged ice pop and handed it to me, eyes still fixated in the distance. I held the pop in my hands, not sure what I was supposed to with it.

He finally glanced up at me when he noticed I hadn't moved an inch.

"Come on. Sit." I hastily sat down beside him, once again wondering why I was obeying him.

I slowly ripped the package open, slowly licked the ice pop, as if any movement was going to spur him into throwing a mean comment my way. Like he did a long time ago.

But he didn't. He just stayed silent, watching people pass by on bikes, quietly licking his pop. And so I did the same, suddenly appreciating the icy snack as a few drops of sweat started to gather on my forehead.

My stomach was oddly twisted as we sat there silently.

He finished his ice pop and just held it in his hand limply. I panicked and tried to finish my own pop as fast as possible, taking a big bite. Turned out that was a bad idea. I squeaked when my mouth turned numb from the ice, opening and closing my mouth like a fish, and tears were squeezed out of my eyes.

A chuckle came from beside me and I froze.

I had never heard Damien laugh before.

I looked at him, with his dimples and soft, curly hair, eyelashes casting long shadows onto his cheeks. My heart beat sped up and I tried to smile at him, but my teeth were hurting so I swallowed the ice instead.

"Slow down, bud. There's no rush. We've got the whole day in front of us." He told me.

I ducked my head in embarrassment, licking the pop. I... just, for some reason, thought he would get mad if I didn't finish the ice quick enough. But of course he didn't.

So once again, we sat in silence, staring off into the distance.

* * *

I trailed after him when we headed back to the hotel. We didn't talk, didn't interact, just walked. I really didn't know why he had drawled the lazy "You coming?" to me, someone he hadn't talked to in four years, let alone ever had a true conversation with.

I watched his curly hair bounce under the late afternoon light. He was almost a head taller than me, and I pursed my lips. My shorter than average height always seemed to stamp on my self-confidence at the oddest of times. Speaking of height, his legs were, of course, longer than mine. One stride of his was one and a half stride of mine, and I struggled to keep up as he carelessly walked on with no concern as to whether I was keeping up or not.

We finally reached the hotel after a long walk that felt much more pleasant in the cool and crisp morning. The air conditioned hotel lobby was a wonderful change from the summer heat we experienced outside. I followed Damien into the elevator, a surprising realization settling to the bottom of my stomach. His room card let him press the ninth floor button–my floor.

The elevator ascended in silence, and we both watched the red number go steadily from L to 9.

He paused before his room, hand hovering over the door's handle.

"Are your friends in your room?"

His words sounded more like a statement. I shook my head.

"They're at a bar."

He turned around to look at me.

"Lead the way, then."

My legs obeyed, and I walked towards my room, but my brain was a short circuited mess. The whys jumbled together, and I couldn't quite put a finger on the emotion I was feeling. The beep as my key card swiped against the sensor pulled me back to reality. An arm reached around me, and Damien opened the door. He gently placed a hand on my shoulder, pushing me into the room.

I turned around to face him, and he looked down into my eyes.

"Well. Um. Hi." I swallowed. His eyes were swirling with intensity, and I took a step back.

"Do you have cards?"

His sudden casual tone startled me, and I stuttered.

"Uh, yeah. Got a deck from the plane."

I took the deck out from my backpack then passed it to him.

"Great." He sat down in the middle of the room on the carpeted floor. His lips tilted into a smirk.

"Let's play strip poker."