Uncharted

In the few short months that Elle had been absent from my life I realized I completely forgot what it was like spending time with her. She constantly had to be busy with something or she’d go crazy. I always figured that was just her way of passing time at work. I was wrong, so wrong. She had to keep herself constantly busy which was hard to do when I all wanted was sleep.

I managed to keep Elle entertained until we ate dinner, after that she went out with some of her old friends who still lived in the general area. I was home alone and it a nice feeling to have peace and quiet finally. I was looking forward to doing nothing and not having to talk to anyone.

I used my free time to think about what I had to say to Desmond. I couldn’t decide what the best approach was when it came to talking to him. I wanted to let him come to me so I wouldn’t have to worry about his grumpy behavior. I figured he was bound to scream at me sooner than later considering he’d been so nice for the past few days.

I didn’t know what I wanted. That realization hit me in the face, practically punched me right in the face. I didn’t know where Des and I stood. Were we friends or were we more than friends? I had no idea what his intentions were and that made me more confused about mine. There was no denying that I was attracted to Desmond and common sense told me he was attracted to me. That was all perfectly clear.

I felt like I barely knew anything about Desmond. I couldn’t recall one conversation Desmond and I had that didn’t turn into an argument or a screaming match. I barely knew anything about the man and yet he was all I could manage to think about. Admitting that to myself only made me more irritated with the entire situation.

Frustrated with myself for being so interested in the miserable monster that was Des, I walked to my balcony doors and flung them open. The cold winter air smacked me right in the face.I was hoping that would be like a slap in the face and shake me out of infatuation with my neighbor. My ear were suddenly alive with the sound of the streets below and it was a nice break from the dead silence of my flat.

I hugged my sweater closer to my body and walked bare foot onto the freezing cold concrete balcony. I walked to the edge and watched people wrapped in their winter coats go in and out of pubs or just walking down the street. I found myself wondering what those people were going through in their lives. I was certain someone down on the street had to be going through worse things than I was.

“You know, the first time I ever saw you, you were standing right there looking down like that.” Des said, suddenly making it know that he had been sitting outside smoking the whole time I was people watching.

“I remember.” I tried my best to smile at the memory. “You were an asshole.”

“I wasn’t an asshole.” Des said with smirk, which I took as him admitting he was.

“Okay.” I laughed and turned my attention back to the people on the street.

“Want to know what I remember most about that?” he asked laughing as well, and leaning on the railing closest to the railing of my own balcony.

“Hmm, the huge disappoint of me not being Canadian?” I asked, only looking at him briefly before looking back down at the street with a smile on my face. Somehow something that upset me so much at the time it happened was strangely hilarious.

“No.” Des laughed. “What I remember most about that day is the color of your eyes.”

“What?” I asked with a laugh, focusing my eyes back on him. “That’s the most random thing.” I pointed out.

Des shrugged and looked at his feet in attempt to hide his smile, but when he looked up at me again it was still on his lips. “It’s what I remember the most.” He threw his cigarette off to the side, giving me his undivided attention. “You were standing in that exact spot, and I was standing right over there.” He pointed to the concrete a few feet to his right. “You looked like you wanted to hit me. The sun was coming from right there.” Des mentioned to where the moon was hanging low in the sky. “It was making your eyes this brilliant shade of green. It was like…” and he trailed off, a smile on his face while he tried to find the right words. “like…I don’t even know how to describe it. It was…beautiful.” Des said finally.

I felt myself a blush and I hoped that Des didn’t notice. “Well, thank you.” I laughed uncomfortably, not really sure how to respond to such a flattering comment.

“Any time.” Des said softly, locking his eyes on mine just as the wind picked up and blew my hair into my face which acted like a barrier between us. When I finally situated my hair so I could see again, Des was lighting another cigarette. His large ink cover hand was shielding the flame of his lighter from the wind as he bright it to the cigarette that was dangling between his lips.

We settled into silence, the only sounds were the ones from the street. I watched a group of woman get into a cab, a group of men walked down the street laughing obnoxiously loud, and a cat run across the street. I wondered where they were all going and who they were going to see and where would they end up at the end of the night. I shifted my gaze up to the sky, there was nothing but the moon and a few stars. I wasn’t expecting to see anything spectacular in the sky but then a shooting star shot across the sky.

“Ah! Shooting star!” I yelped and pointed to the sky, I heard Des laughing from his balcony as I bit my lip and closed my eyes. I figured wishing upon a star was worth a shot, even though I doubted it would be any help in my case. I wished that things would just be simple with Des for once, that we could just talk and not fight. I wished he would just come out and say whatever he was about to say the night Elle came into my room and cut him off. I wished we could go back to that place where he was willing to talk to me about whatever he’s been holding inside all these months.

“Do you think we could talk?” Des asked quietly, like he was afraid I’d say no. I opened my eyes and noticed the way his whole body looked tense. I seemed to be the cause of his anxiety and I guess that’s why he was chain smoking.

“Yeah, sure. Come over, it’s too cold out here.”

Des nodded, and took another long drag of his cigarette. “I’ll be over in a minute.” And with his answer I made my way back inside. I closed the balcony doors behind and sat on the couch biting my lip while I waited for what was sure to be one of the most interesting conversations I’d ever have.