Through Your Eyes

by Ali Merci

  “Nah.” Asa clicked his tongue, eyes flickering from the road ahead to the empty house beside them. “She’s been around for a long time now,” he said with an odd touch of warmth to his tone, patting the dashboard of the truck fondly. “Survived worse than a bit of rain.”

  Carmen offered a small nod in acknowledgement, before folding her hands over her chest and rubbing her arms.

  “You’re cold,” Asa commented.

  “You did make us stand in the rain back there in the parking lot.”

  “I recall you telling me it was just rain and proceeding to call me a wimp for not wanting to get drenched.”

  “But I wasn’t the one who ended up drenching us,” Carmen pointed out, raising a brow. “That was all you.”

  Asa’s eyes narrowed and he looked like he was about to shoot something back at that, but then seemed to have a change of mind. “I’m too cold to argue about this right now. Can we just go in already, please?”

  Carmen suppressed a smug smile, and turned to open the door of the passenger seat, bracing herself for the pelting down of raindrops the second time that night as she made a dash for her house.

  “I’m definitely going to catch a cold after tonight,” she heard Asa exhale loudly from behind her, having reached the porch steps at the same time as Carmen.

  “Would be worth it.” The words slipped out of Carmen’s mouth with a light laugh before she realised it. Her hand suddenly paused in its act of unlocking her front door and she raised her chin to meet Asa’s eyes.

  He was already looking at her.

  “It is,” he told her, voice soft yet serious.

  Carmen’s heart skipped another beat that night. Or maybe it was several beats. She couldn’t keep track anymore. Averting her gaze, she focused on unlocking the door and letting themselves in.

  Once they’d entered her house and she let the door swing shut behind them, Carmen sighed. “I already feel warmer now that we’re indoors.” She lifted a hand to wipe away all the stray droplets of water on her face before running her palm over her head and pushing back all the wet strands of hair. She was dragging her palm back down over her cheeks, when her eyes suddenly made contact with Asa’s.

  Carmen froze momentarily, taking in the fact that he was watching her wordlessly, with an unreadable look on his face. “What?” she asked softly, the corners of her mouth twitching.

  Asa pressed his lips together and slowly shook his head.

  Carmen observed him for a few more seconds before her eyes dropped to his torso, noticing how the soaking wet material of Asa’s button-down clung to his body like a second skin, stretching over his broad shoulders and down the defined planes of his chest.

  “You probably need to change,” Carmen said quietly, silently praying that her voice was as steady as she wanted it to be.

  “I do,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s starting to feel uncomfortable. Not to mention, cold.”

  “Right.” Carmen cleared her throat, blinking twice and tearing her eyes away. “Right, of course. Uh, you —you can follow me up. There’s probably something of Dad’s you can wear.” She turned towards the direction of the small staircase built along the side of one wall, and she felt Asa follow right after her.

  “I’ve seen your dad only once,” Asa said, and the sound of his voice gave away just how close he seemed to be standing behind her. “Twice, actually. That day when I dropped you off, and on Thanksgiving. I really don’t think anything of his would fit me. He has a narrower frame than mine.”

  Carmen sighed and scratched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “We’ll see. There has to be something. Do you need to change your jeans too?”

  “No,” Asa replied. “They haven’t absorbed as much water as my shirt. I don’t mind staying in them.”

  “All right…” she mumbled under her breath, trying to recall if her father had any baggy shirts or t-shirts that would fit Asa. Carmen was just about to pass the guest bedroom and walk right into her dad’s when she suddenly stopped in her tracks and headed into the guest room instead.

  The room had never been used before and was always kept shut, collecting dust and cobwebs until the past few months, when Hunter had started staying over each time his dad was out of town.

  Carmen was sure that her cousin left a few spare clothes around and sure enough, when she pulled open the large chest of drawers placed against the far side of the wall, she found a pile of folded tees inside.

  Grabbing one off the top, she walked back out and handed it to Asa, hoping he’d just take it without asking any questions as to whose it was. “Here you go, that should fit you just fine.”

  Asa took the t-shirt from her, a distracted expression on his face. He looked like he was a million miles away from here. “Thanks,” he muttered under his breath, eyebrows furrowed together before he seemed to snap out of his reverie and glanced down at Carmen. “Where do I change?”

  “Um…” Carmen trailed off uncertainly, her eyes flickering between the different doors in the hallway, suddenly forgetting to form coherent words as her brain picked that moment to freeze over. “I, uh, you…”

  She watched the uncharacteristically serious expression on Asa’s face slowly morph into one of light amusement and then she saw that long-forgotten mischievous glint in his eyes, a look that Carmen thought she’d never see him wear again over the span of the past few months.

  She watched him lift a hand towards his neck, his forefinger scratching the hollow at the base of his throat where both collarbones met, and then he slowly trailed downwards before coming to a stop at the topmost button of his shirt and popping it open.

  Carmen’s body froze but at the same time, her brain decided to do her a favour and kick-start. “What are you doing?” she blurted, her eyes widening.

  “I asked you where I’m supposed to change,” he told her in a casual tone, and then dragged his index finger further down, unfastening the second button with a barely-there kind of smirk and revealing a sliver of his chest. “And if you’re not going to respond, I might as well undress here.”

  Carmen gaped at him, flabbergasted for a whole three seconds before her senses came crashing down over her again and she huffed, turning around and throwing open the door to the guest bedroom.

  “There!” she exclaimed, pointing towards the open room, heat spreading over her cheeks and neck like wildfire. “You can change in there for heaven’s sake!”

  Asa’s lips twitched and let his hand fall to his side before pushing himself off the wall and walking towards the guest room. “See,” he murmured, stepping past her. “All you needed was a little bit of motivation.”

  “Just shut up and get changed,” Carmen said exasperatedly, pushing him further into the room with a gentle shove and then walking towards her own bedroom, the tiniest of smiles gracing her lips now that Asa had somehow managed to break the uneasiness that’d been hanging over them since the ride from the stadium to here.

  And as Carmen stepped into her attached bathroom, stripping off her wet clothes and putting on dry ones, she couldn’t help but wonder if that was what Asa had intended all along, if the little stunt he’d just pulled was to remind her that he wasn’t as serious in nature as he was playful and laid-back.

  It seemed like something he would do for her. The thought alone made her chest flood with a particular kind of warmth that only Asa could radiate.

  Opening the door of the washroom and stepping out, she found Asa leaning against the open doorway of her room, eyes scanning the walls, her dresser, her wardrobe and everything else as if he’d never been in here before.

  “Asa, what are you doing?” Carmen asked, tilting her head slightly.

  “Was waiting for you to be done.” He shrugged, leaning away from the wall. “Can I come in?”

  Carmen blinked, not responding for the first few seconds as she felt sharp pangs of regret and dismay right in the pit of her stomach. This was the same Asa who had once felt comfortable
enough to pay her a surprise visit on the day of Thanksgiving, the same Asa who didn’t have to ask her if she would like him entering her room because he’d already known the answer.

  And here he stood—the very same Asa—just no longer confident in his instincts when it came to her.

  “Of course you can come in,” she told him in a hoarse voice, looking away from those eyes of his and picking up a fresh towel, making herself look busy while she smoothened its creases and folded it.

  Just as she hung it over the back of the dresser’s chair, she felt a hand touch the back of her elbow gently and Carmen turned around to find Asa incredibly close, lesser than even an arm’s length away.

  His eyes were trained on his feet, brows pulled together in deep thought as he took another step closer before allowing his hand around her elbow to trail down further and wrap around her wrist.

  “Did that…” He raised his head to meet her eyes, a small frown on his lips. And then, bringing a hand towards her face, he used the back of his knuckles to stroke her lower jaw. “I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I?” He cocked his head to the side. “There, in the hallway? I wasn’t trying to make you uneasy. You just seemed to be spacing out and worrying, so I wanted to break the ice.”

  A smile broke out on Carmen’s face, giddy that even after all this time, she still knew him. She’d been right when she’d assumed he was just trying to keep the atmosphere light-hearted for her benefit.

  Her mind flashed back to the evening of their date, when he’d shown up on the steps of her front porch with that mischievous shimmer in his eyes and that devilish grin on his lips. He had made a sarcastic remark, though Carmen couldn’t remember what it was. And in return, she had asked him, “Were you born with that smooth tongue or did you have to pick up lessons along the years?”

  He’d grinned at her then, and she’d known there was a witty response to her question already sitting at the tip of his tongue.

  “Does it really matter?” Asa had smirked at her. “Because you weren’t complaining about my smooth tongue that night in the park.”

  Carmen remembered the furious blushing she’d endured, the speechless state she’d been left in. And then she remembered him shedding off that cocky demeanour as his natural instincts had taken over, instincts that needed to ensure she was at ease, at comfort. “I’m sorry,” Asa had said, ever the embodiment of warmth. “I just wanted to tease you, but if those sorts of remarks make you uncomfortable, then tell me okay? And I won’t make them anymore.”

  Looking at him now, standing right in front of her, that same hint of concern in his eyes and the same gentleness in his tone, Carmen knew any pain she’d caused him hadn’t taken away the beautiful person he was beneath all that flesh and bone.

  And God, did she love him for it.

  “I know you were only trying to make light of the situation,” she told him with a soft smile. “You don’t have to explain.”

  He watched her for a moment, as if wanting to confirm for himself that she was at ease, and then released a small sigh. “Good,” he mumbled, a corner of his mouth lifting up slightly into something similar to a smile.

  His gaze travelled upwards, landing on her hair which was still pretty damp since Carmen hadn’t got a chance to wipe it yet. Asa ran his fingers down a few locks and then pulled his hand back, looking down at the tiny water droplets he found there.

  “You haven’t dried your hair yet,” he pointed out, rubbing his fingertips together. “You’re going to give yourself a really bad headache on top of that cold, you know.” Unwrapping his fingers from around Carmen’s wrist, he leaned forward and slipped his arm underneath hers, reaching for the towel she’d hung over the chair behind her and then walked over to the bed.

  Carmen watched as he settled on the mattress, leaning back against the headboard with his legs crossed on the bed and patting the spot right in front of him. “Come on then,” he said, not taking his eyes off hers.

  Bewildered, she walked towards Asa, stopping just as her knees brushed against the bedframe and looked at him curiously. “Asa, you don’t—I can dry my own hair, you know.”

  Asa sighed deeply and stretched his hand out towards Carmen, the inside of his palm turned upwards, silently asking her to take it. “I want to take care of you right now,” he said quietly. “Please just let me.”

  Carmen had taken care of herself for so long now, and she didn’t think Asa understood to the fullest extent what his words were making her feel.

  She slipped her palm into his without blinking an eye, letting him pull her up onto the bed, and settled on the space in front of him, bringing her knees up to her chest and loosely wrapping her arms around them.

  “Um,” Carmen started, her eyes trained on her intertwined fingers resting atop her knees, her voice beginning to tremble slightly, “So…I—I guess that tonight I wanted to—to…” She let out a frustrated breath, knowing that she had so much to say to him, but not knowing how to begin. There was really no way she could think of to start this conversation.

  “We have all night,” Asa murmured from behind her, his hand taking a hold of a few locks of her hair and starting to dry it with the towel. “Just breathe for now.”

  Carmen seemed to relax at that, her shoulders sagging forward slightly and her fingers loosening their painful grip around each other.

  Asa continued to thread his fingers through her hair, separating it into portions and wiping each one thoroughly before letting it flow down her back along with rest of the dried strands. Carmen’s eyes fluttered shut, a small sigh of content escaping her lips at the soothing movements.

  It was a few minutes later when Asa finally stopped. “There you go,” he mumbled under his breath, chucking the towel away and gathering her hair into a neat pile before pushing it to the side and letting it fall over her right shoulder. “All done.”

  “Thanks,” Carmen whispered, eyes still closed.

  Asa hummed in response, and Carmen felt the back of his fingertips trail down the length of her spine in one single feather-light stroke.

  After a while, Carmen spoke, “You’re quiet.”

  She felt him shift behind her, and opened her eyes to see both his legs stretch out on either side of her, no longer in the crossed-over position they’d been in earlier. Carmen’s cheeks grew warm; it felt more intimate this way.

  “I told you,” he said in a voice so quiet that she wouldn’t have heard it if she wasn’t seated this close to him. “Tonight is all yours. So, you do the speaking, and take as much time as you want to. I’m not walking out that door until you’ve said all that there is for you to say.” Asa’s hushed words could’ve easily got lost in the space between their bodies, but somehow that only added to the sensation of the two of them being the only ones in the world that night. “Even if I have to stay here ’till sunrise.”

  A small laugh fell past Carmen’s lips. “Dad would probably be back by sunrise.” She suddenly lifted her head from her knees and turned her body around slightly, shooting a curious look at Asa over her shoulder. “Wait, don’t you have to be home?”

  Asa’s hands were crossed behind his head, his eyes never leaving Carmen’s as he responded, “Was supposed to stay at Wyatt’s anyway, so there aren’t going to be at least three dozen worried calls from Ma.”

  “I guess your dad’s pretty chill then,” Carmen stated.

  Asa shrugged. “He trusts that I’ll be able to handle myself.”

  “But your mum’s always worried about you?”

  Asa nodded, affection pooling in his eyes. “Always.” He chuckled. “But she has a temper. She’s borderline insane when I sometimes turn up home late and couldn’t drop her a message either ’cause my phone died or I’d just forgotten to do so.”

  “And you don’t get frustrated with her during those times?”

  “Sometimes I do,” he admitted sheepishly, unfolding his arms and letting it fall down by his sides as he picked at a loose thread on a pillow. “But then
I remind myself that all that anger comes from a place of worry, and that worry from a place of love. Aside from dad, if it’s not her feeling protective over me, who else is supposed to? She’s a mother; she’ll always have those maternal instincts. I should be grateful I get to have one when there are other kids out there who don’t.”

  Asa inhaled sharply, his hand freezing and letting the thread slip through his fingers as he snapped his head towards Carmen. “I didn’t—Joder! —Carmen, shit, that’s not—I’m going to shut up, okay? I’m so, so sorry. I just didn’t think—I was speaking about ma and I—”

  “Don’t stop,” Carmen whispered, shifting her body around sideways so that she could get a clearer look at him. “I want you to speak about her…I want… I want to know… to know what it’s like.”

  Asa’s eyes softened—his entire posture softened—and Carmen watched him hesitate for a split second before he reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist, tightening his grip just a little bit more as he pulled her towards him until she was resting sideways against his chest. Carmen closed her eyes, whatever nervousness she’d been feeling earlier crumbling to dust and floating away as her heart grew lighter in weight.

  She felt Asa’s other hand slip into her hair, cool fingertips massaging her scalp in small, inconsistent circles.

  “She loves cooking,” Asa told Carmen, not asking her if she was sure she wanted to hear him speak about what it was like having a mother around. He didn’t question, didn’t make her second-guess, he just obliged, trusting that Carmen knew what she wanted. “And she takes a hell lot of pride in it, too. Anyone mentions anything about how she’s just giving into a gender role about women being cooks, they better start preparing to get their asses handed to them. With extra whipped cream on top.” He let out a chuckle at that, fondness evident in that small sound itself. It made Carmen smile and made her chest warm all over.

  “She’s passionate about everything. I suppose she lives by the motto “Go big or go home”. Every little thing she does, she does it by pouring her blood, sweat, and tears into it. So when she’s mad, she’s a spitfire on the loose. And when she’s stubborn, there isn’t the most valid and logical argument you could lay out before her; it’s not going to change her mind. Same thing with forgiving too; she’s a pro at holding a grudge. She’ll be cursing you to the pits of hell while making the world’s best enchiladas. The woman’s crazy.”