A Unique Kind of Love

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A Unique Kind of Love Page 14

by Rose, Jasmine


  As I had to pass by Bella's love seat to go upstairs, I patted her head, making her snuggle closer to her pillow. Suddenly, I saw something that made me freeze in my tracks.

  Tear streaks.

  Her cheeks were damp, puffy and completely red. Her lips were slightly trembling and I figured she was having a bad dream.

  "No, daddy, don't leave, please!" she murmured repeatedly, tears falling from her closed eyelids. Just as I made a mental note to investigate this later, her murmur changed, shocking me.

  "Leo, please. I love you; don't let me go, please." The way she'd said this contained so much pain, it hurt me.

  Ah, I should've known. There was always a certain boy involved somehow in every girl's story.

  I pulled up the covers on her more and decided to let her be with her nightmare. I wished I could do anything about it, but dreams, especially horrible nightmares are impossible to deal with.

  Crossing my arms helped redeem the warmth. I slowly tiptoed my way back upstairs. Now, the dilemma was: Where was the bathroom?

  I traveled my way around the house, almost jumping up and down. I had to piss. It was crucial at this point of my life.

  Crossing my fingers and hoping to die, I reluctantly turned the doorknob of a random room. At the sight of an oven, a refrigerator and a dishwasher, I came to a realization that I was currently in the kitchen. Although I peeked a little, I couldn't see the source of the voice suddenly startling me.

  "Belle? Is that you honey?" asked a motherly voice sounding American. I fully opened the door only to meet a pair of bewildered blue eyes. The stranger took an antique vase from the small dining table and held it up, prepared to break my skull with it.

  "Who are you?" she demanded with a fiery glint in her eyes that I recognized in Belle's orbs. I held my hands up like a deer caught in headlights.

  "I'm Lena Rose Winter, Liam's girlfr-I mean friend. My older sister and I are slumbering in the basement because the weather outside is freezing and we could get hypothermia."

  Face palm. What a great first impression on this woman.

  Surprisingly, the woman, a complete stranger who seemed abnormally familiar started laughing. And she wouldn't stop. She placed the vase on the table and clutched her stomach, laughing. I chuckled nervously, not knowing what to do exactly.

  After about five minutes of her laughing her bum off and me standing there, being awkward, the lady regained her composure.

  Sort of.

  She was biting her lip, forcing her laughter to die down.

  "Excuse me, I'm being terribly impolite! It's just that you're so cute and I've never met someone so downright awkward. I already love you though. I'm Catherine Black, Liam's aunt and the twins' mother."

  I shook her offered hand, smiling. I should've known! The resemblance was simply uncanny. Belle's sandy hair pulled in a messy ponytail and Adam's striking eyes and cheekbones. For an adult, she was simply beautiful.

  "Um, may I ask you an embarrassing question?" I questioned shyly, after she'd finished talking about how Liam had never said we had guests.

  "Sure sweetie. Is it about how to ask Liam out? Because just the way you stuttered saying his name shows how in love you are with him."

  My eyes widened and my eyebrows rose. What kind of question was that?

  My cheeks flamed because Catherine Black had asked that question so bluntly, as if she’d known me all my life. "Uh, um, uh, no. Actually, I-I, where's your bathroom, Mrs. Black?"

  "Oh sweetie, call me Catherine. The bathroom is opposing to Liam's room. Third door after the kitchen, on the right," she said, winking at me. I liked this woman already. I knew for a fact that if she and my mom met, they'd instantly become friends.

  "Thank you, Mrs. Bla- I mean Catherine." I flashed her one last smile and headed for heaven; the bathroom.

  Counting the third door, I found a room with a lousy LIAM written in permanent marker. I smiled a little, imagining a tiny Liam writing this on his door. But what was truly funny was imagining his older face as he miserably tried to remove it.

  Ah, that boy.

  I rushed into the bathroom and satisfied my needs, loudly sighing. The soft beige ceramic was elegant. I was done quickly and washed my hands. Unfortunately, I looked in the mirror. Let me just say, zombies would be jealous of me right now. My hair was everywhere, my eyes were puffy and my complexion was dull and tiresome. I smiled, though, thinking about the last words I heard before going to sleep.

  Liam's words were like the whisper of an angel. This was the longest he'd ever spoken to me since the drunken night. I unconsciously touched my lips and my heart fluttered remembering our kiss. That boy just made me weak and happy.

  A little mischief was in my thoughts, so I entered Liam's room. I hoped he wouldn't mind, though. No one said anything about him finding out, right?

  On the contrary of what a typical teenager's room would seem like, Liam's was impeccably organized.

  Two beds were made, the pillows neatly placed. His desk was clean, not a speck of dust on it. His laptop was closed and there were a couple of books lying lazily on the desk. I grazed my fingers over them, scanning the titles; The Host, The Notebook and The Fault in Our Stars. I smiled, because these were his favorite books and it wasn't going to be his first time reading them.

  What caught my attention was his sketchpad, the same one he had when I met him at the park. My hands itched to look through it, but that would be intruding his privacy. Curiosity won over me and opened the first page. I slightly gasped at what I saw.

  A family happily enjoying a picnic. Strawberries, sandwiches, along with several other food elements were on the checkered blanket. The father was laughing, his features soft and smooth. The mother was braiding her daughter's hair, to look the same as hers. She had an absent smile on her face, as if she was the happiest person in the world. The little girl had long hair. Her expression displayed pure innocence and happiness. The last character in the picture was a young boy, 10 years old or so, he was smiling while looking at his parents with a loving expression. My heart broke as I recognized the features.

  The boy was Liam.

  At the bottom of the page, Liam quoted Melanie Stryder, the main character from The Host. You never know how much time you'll have, was scribbled in a perfect handwriting.

  I turned the pages, most of them portraying the little girl, the father, the mother and sometimes it was a family drawing. Some were tear-stained. He always puts quotes instead of signing his name. Some were of him or his grandmother.

  I fell upon the first drawing of me, a girl with curls, hiding her face between her knees. My heart ached at this one, because he had put a small heart. The next ones were mostly of me. One of me smiling widely, another of us cuddling, one of us dancing, the one that made me laugh was the one where we made snow angels.

  The last one literally tore my heart apart. Grandma Black was sitting on a couch, knitting. Her expression was relaxed and peaceful. She smiled happily, the familiar wrinkles around her eyes showing. He portrayed every detail so perfectly, I wanted to break down.

  This page was completely dry and slightly crumpled, the way paper reacted with water. Not water, tears.

  This is how he wanted to remember her.

  I felt myself tracing the quote he'd written.

  "Oh heart, if one should say to you that the soul perishes like the body, answer that the flower withers, but the seed remains." Kahlil Gibran

  Out of nowhere, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around me. Just as I was about to scream, a hand clasped itself upon my mouth. I turned to see Liam. He was smiling with grief, his eyes tearful. He didn't even look slightly offended that I'd invaded his privacy.

  His eyes were glued on the drawing. "Isn't she lovely?" he murmured.

  "Liam?" I asked, slightly nervous and heavy hearted.

  "Yeah?" He averted his eyes to me, blinking rapidly. He didn't want me to see him cry.

  I did the unexpected; I placed my lips on his. He t
asted like tears and hot chocolate. The kiss wasn't rough; it was just gentle, sweet and passionate. He was in such pain, I could literally feel it. An explosion of total peace and serenity overwhelmed us both. The true meaning of life, love, and utter relief of having each other, hoping this night would never end. Knowing that for both of us, this was the perfect chance to prove our melancholic love, so strong, so deep, and yet so sad to never want to let go, to the sadness of life.

  He finally broke off the kiss, and bored his eyes into mine. His pupils dilated and his blue orbs were gleaming with fresh tears.

  So, I did what I had to do.

  I took him in my arms and let him cry there. My shirt got wet as he sobbed, letting everything out. I tightened my grip on him, knowing that doing that always made me feel better when I was crying.

  Because before my eyes, I did not see a man. There stood a broken boy who'd lost his father, mother, sister and grandmother. In the process, almost losing himself.

  Was he worth it?

  Was he worth saving?

  Was he worth loving?

  Absolutely.

  Here I was, holding the most beautiful human in the world, who was emptying his heavy heart of gold.

  22

  Mi Madre

  “All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.”

  ~Abraham Lincoln~

  Lena Rose Winter

  Guilt was feeling like a Pac-Man, it ate up every piece of emotion inside of you until you apologized to the person you caused pain to. The longer you deny feeling bad about what you did, the longer you over think every single word you said.

  “Mom?” I said, sitting beside her on the couch. We had two hours before the dinner and there was a relaxed moment in the house.

  She looked up from her tea and looked at me. There was a dull look in her hazel eyes.

  “I wanted to talk to you,” I said. She nodded.

  I sighed, and clutched the cup of green tea in my hands tighter. “I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t answer, so I kept on talking. “I was being selfish and bratty.”

  She rose her eyebrows at that, as if it was an understatement.

  “I know you have to start seeing others now, I just never imagined you without Dad.” I paused for a second, the sound of that name on my lips making me shiver. “I want to see you happy. I over exaggerated this whole thing and I’m really sorry about it.”

  “I need you to be okay with all this,” she said.

  I nodded fervently. “I am. I want to see you happy and since Dad wants to see you happy too, you should really call that Roger guy again.”

  She ushered for me to come closer and I put myself into a one armed embrace.

  I immediately felt like a kid again. It was bizarre to feel like this, but Mom’s hugs always made me feel better about whatever was happening at the moment. She was safety for me.

  “I love you, mom.”

  She chuckled softly. “I know.”

  I let out a small, mocking gasp.

  “No, I love you too? What is this, a one-sided love?”

  She laughed, and mumbled, “Yeah, yeah. Love you too.”

  “That’s better,” I said.

  “Speaking of apologies and making amends, guess who called me today?”

  I furrowed my eyebrows together, “Who?”

  “Stacy Hennings.”

  I let out a laugh.

  “What did she want?”

  Mom smiled at my reaction. “She wants to come over today and apologize.”

  I grimaced. “And what did you say, Mother?”

  “She’ll be here in about ten minutes.”

  I gasped. “Mom! I don’t want to see her!”

  “Too bad, you two need to have a clean slate.” I groaned.

  “You seriously want us to be friends again? After everything she did?”

  “Of course not,” Mom shook her head and took a sip of her tea calmly. “I just don’t want you to have any enemies or whatever at school.”

  She was right, she knew it, and she made sure I knew it too. “Fine,” I grumbled.

  Mom stood up to put the empty cup into the kitchen. “I wasn’t asking for permission,” she winked.

  A few minutes later, the doorbell rang and I had to drag myself over to open it. Stacy stood there, dressed in simple clothes. She had a blank look on her face. I nodded.

  “Stacy.”

  She gave me a small, hesitant smile. “Can I come in?”

  “No,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  Her smile fell, but she nodded in understanding. “I wanted to apologize.”

  “For what?” I let out an unladylike snort. “Insulting me repeatedly, or spilling drinks down my back, or insulting people I care about?”

  “Everything,” she said. “I’m sorry for everything.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know if I can believe you.”

  “Please, do. Every second of every day these days, I keep on thinking of how horrible I was with you. I am disgusted by myself, and I swear, I am sincere.” Tears shone in her eyes, but head held high, she refused to let them fall. “Please, forgive me.”

  I sighed, feeling a bit of pity for her, “Fine.” Her face lit up.

  “But this doesn’t mean that we’re friends,” I said, remembering Mom’s words, “just that we have a clean slate.”

  She eagerly nodded. “Thank you.” A few stray golden hairs betrayed her messy bun and she put them back in place with a leather gloved hand. She extended the same hand to me.

  I shook it and gave her a semi-passable smile. A honk interrupted the moment and she widened her eyes.

  “Mom’s being cranky,” she chuckled. “I better go.”

  I gave her a small nod, feeling a small weight, get off my chest. “Thank you, again,” she said. I didn’t answer.

  She walked away and I closed the door.

  “Mom, come out! I know you were spying!” I called out, laughing as Mom appeared from behind the couch, a look of shame on her face.

  I shook my head at her. “You’re too old for spying on people, Mother!”

  Her eyes got wide and she looked at me with shock and disbelief. “Did you just call me old?” I shrugged, grinning in amusement.

  “Young lady, you are officially forbidden from saying the word old at home.”

  It was my turn to wink at her, “I wasn’t asking for permission to say it.”

  23

  Princess to the Rescue

  "Should you fight for someone who may not even want you to fight for them? Or may not even give you the chance to."

  ~Anonymous~

  Liam Christopher Black

  "Liam! Come on, we're going to be late! Stop checking yourself out, that's Lena's job," winked Adam, popping his head in the room. I chuckled and grabbed my favorite watch.

  That boy was the best cousin in the world, even though he could easily get on my nerves. He was a prankster, but a good guy at heart. And I found out that he liked Tori but he had to deal with Kylie first. He wanted to think properly, to prevent doing any rash actions.

  My thoughts drifted away a little and I hoped tonight would go well. Catherine and Mrs. Winter met this morning and instantly became the other version of SpongeBob and Patrick.

  Catherine insisted on inviting everyone on a night out, at one of the most chic restaurants in town; Rio Bello's. Lena kissed my cheek and her mom was raging at her because she wouldn't let go of my hug.

  Ah, that girl.

  I raced downstairs and found Catherine stuffing a lipstick, a pair of tissues and her cell phone into her red purse. She looked great, wearing a knee length red dress. She smiled upon seeing me and cupped my face with her hands.

  "Your parents would be so proud of you!" My smile slightly faltered and I nodded softly. Catherine seemed oblivious to my reaction and called Belle down. Adam was already in the car, as he was the one driving us.

  Belle was stunning, wearing a white skirt, a black shirt with BAD written acro
ss it and a blue leather jacket. It was very... Belle. I ruffled her hair playfully, as she stuck her tongue out at me.

  Catherine locked the door as everyone got in Adam's 2013 Ford. His family was quite rich. Actually, his dad was, but he was a forbidden subject everywhere. He abandoned Catherine upon finding out about her pregnancy. Adam and Belle despised him, but Belle has always loved him because he came to visit her when she was younger. Adam always kicked him out of the house; he hated how he hurt his mom.

 

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