Page 315 of Eternal
He looked back at the road, still smiling a little while I stared out the window, pretending not to like the way he said that.
After a minute, he spoke again, quieter this time.
“I meant it, by the way.”
I looked over. “Meant what?”
“That I couldn’t wait to see what you were wearing.”
I bit my lip, shook my head, and looked out the window again. “You’re annoying.”
He leaned closer, voice soft in my ear. “And you’re fucking gorgeous.”
I didn’t say anything to that, I smiled happily, and reached down to turn up the music a little louder, let the city lights blur out the window, and pretended like my chest wasn’t tight in the best and worst way.
“Thank you…”
89
AZRA
“Touch” by Cigarettes After Sex
Present
Damir was quiet during the ride, or maybe I was. I’m not really the talkative type, never have been.
When I was younger, it always felt like saying too much meant getting on someone’s nerves, like my words took up space they didn’t want to give. So I stopped.
I learned to stay quiet, smile when it feels safe, and keep everything else locked up.
But with him… I don’t know. It’sdifferent. I never feel like I’m too much when I talk, or like I have to force anything when I don’t.
It’s almost like… he’s waiting. Not pushing, not prying. He’s simply there,listening. And sometimes I catch myself wanting to say more, like if I started, he’d stay and let me finish.
After a few minutes, we pulled up to the Lebanese complex. Not many cars outside. Zanae’s text had said:
Zanae
Dinner tonight at my place. I know you’re heading back tomorrow and would love to celebrate your visit. Can’t wait to have you back.
It was adorable, a dinner simply because I showed up, like I was actually worth celebrating.
He opens the car door like always, “You wore a tie,” he said, grinning a little too much.
I arch a brow. “Didn’t know a tie would do it for you.”
“It doesn’t,” he says, leaning just close enough. “Youdo.”
And somehow, that shut me right up.
He steps back a little, eyes still on me. “You okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You’ve had a few drinks, right?”
“A few,” I mutter, smoothing my tie like it was misbehaving. “I’m fine. It’s just alcohol.”
