Page 128 of Through My Window
I inhale her scent and smile against her skin.
I’m not afraid anymore, Witch.
I don’t want to run away anymore.
I give her a kiss and we carefully get up, fixing our costumes. I watch her lower her dress, making it look like nothing happened.
“I guess I’m out of the friend zone,” I say. She looks at me with narrowed eyes.
“Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting anything,” I say, playing innocent. “I’m just telling the truth, girlfriend.” She tries to hide a smile.
“Girlfriend?”
I just nod.
“Now I’m all yours, and you’re all mine, little witch.”
“Ha!” She snorts. “Why are you always so possessive?”
I slip an arm around her waist, pulling her to me, and she lets out a giggle. I caress her cheek.
“Because there are people who have their eyes on you.”
“Jealous?” She gives me a wide smile. “You look cute when you’re jealous.”
The first time I ever felt jealousy in my life was with you,I think.
Raquel squirms a little, looking uncomfortable. “I’m going to the bathroom to . . . you know, to clean myself up a little bit.”
“I’ll wait for you at the table.”
She smiles and walks away. I leave the candlelit room and make my way to the table. The first to greet me is Gregory.
“You came back.” He gets up to whisper in my ear, “Comb your hair a little, Mr. Obvious.”
I run my hands through my hair quickly, and I walk over to Marco.
“Do you have cigarettes?” He nods, pulling a box out of his pocket.
“Do you want one?”
“Yeah. Will you join me for a smoke?”
“Of course.” He nods.
We pass through the candlelit room to go to the balcony on that side. I barely set foot out there before I’m remembering the time Raquel left me turned on in this very place. So much has happened since that night.
We light our cigarettes. I take a puff and blow the smoke out into the cool night air. Marco rests his forearms on the balcony railing and focuses on the view. Silence is rare between us; it’s awkward, but the conversation that’s coming is one we both know we should be having.
“There is no need to beat around the bush between us,” he says casually.
“This is not a game to me, Marco,” I begin, inhaling again. “Not this time.”
“Do you really like her?”
“It’s more than that,” I answer.
