#and now their entire perception of me is a carefully fabricated lie. Just a repeating script of behaviors I learned to do to placate them

[castawxayaway]

half hearted: part four

got around 3 parts left I think, bit of a longer series but I don’t want to rush it all! thank you for the positive response on it so far, i am really enjoying this. :)

part one / two / three / five / six / seven (last)

collection of writing

(oh and back to dans perspective)

Seeing her, actually seeing her in the flesh is something I couldn’t envision. Mentally I could not see how bright her eyes were against the crisp ground, the dark skies above. I never thought her smile would make me feel warm inside to combat the bitter weather we sit in. Having her in my arms, calming her down as I stroke her hair feels surreal, yet we still don’t know what to class us as. 

This only verifies my own thoughts, that it’s not a friend situation, it’s that stage in between friends and being in a relationship; comfortable. Over the past three days we’ve been talking, I’ve woken up looking at her as she lay fast asleep in bed whilst I lie on a lumpy mattress which is marginally better to the tour bunks on her discoloured, stained bitty carpet that covers a fraction of the floorboards. When I wake up I can see what she sees, the beauty of the city through her glass doors. If I close my eyes I can hear her again, how she would describe it to me at morning and night, the descriptions never repeating themselves; always differing. 

We went to visit some of the places she always spoke about, we saw the sunset at the beach, she showed me a secret cafe few knew about. I got to see the library filled with more books spiralling upwards in unique shelves. But most importantly, I’ve been able to see her. I’m seeing her life, how she lives with her rather than just through a phone call. I can see her habits, the way she twirls her hair from boredom, or how she sometimes forgets words entirely and laughs it off. Her laugh, I could talk about it for too long, she just puts all of her energy into it, it nevers falters, it’s never the same. 

Yet I still feel like I’m lying to her. She knows me and I know her, but she doesn’t know about my music- not entirely. We’ve spoken about my music, about where I was when I was leaving. I told her about my seven hour flight, the rush I was in to just come and meet her as the taxi driver went the wrong way. That when I turned up I was out of breath, flustered and tried to keep calm for her sake. 

As I turn over on the mattress, away from the dusk of the morning I can see her face hidden beneath her duvet and various blankets due to the lack of heating here. She shivers lightly, despite the layering and all I want to do is lie with her, keep her warm in my arms. Even now she is beautiful, mouth slightly ajar and dribbling I’m sure, bed hair and being completely dead to the world she is still beautiful to me. I silently sigh and roll off of the mattress and head towards her kitchen. 

Stepping out of her room the chill only deepens down my spine as I pour myself a glass of water and glance out to see how dark it still is, despite how early it may be. “Can’t sleep?” Turning my head her friend, Myla, one of her closest roommates hovers by the doorway, her expression too blank to read.

I nod as I finish my gulp of water, “Yeah, it’s pretty cold tonight. Plus I’ve got a lot on my mind.” She hums something before walking closer towards me and sits down on the counter as I put my glass in the dishwasher and sit on one of their stools. 

“Does she know yet?” My head shoots up as I see her, a small smile forming on her face, but eyes unreadable. I keep quiet, unsure what Myla could mean by ‘know.’ She knows my name, she knows who I am, what else is there? All Myla does is shake her head at me, but I raise an eyebrow in response. 

Standing up I walk towards the window, the view nothing in comparison to the full length I can see in her room. Glancing over Myla still perches on the marble surface, her grin growing. “I, I don’t think I get what you mean.” Now she was moving closer to me until she was leaning against the counter opposite me, unable to make eye contact. 

“About your band? About Bastille?” She said our name with such venom, with such hatred without knowing us. Myla began to move closer until she was sat down next to me, “I wasn’t sure initially, but you looked so familiar. Yesterday it clicked, my ex listened to you guys all the time. No hard feelings, but your music drives me insane because of him.” I let out a dry laugh, the tension rising between us. 

“You, you aren’t going to tell her, are you?” Apprehension was heavy in my chest, the idea of her finding out before I can tell her, explain to her hurts me deeply. She wouldn’t talk to me again, we’ve both shared personal things, some I’ve never told anyone else. But this is something else entirely, this is the portion of my life that is normal for me, but hard to fathom for someone else. 

I carefully watch her movements, how she lifts her head and avoids my gaze again. Myla stands back up, slowly walking further away leaving my heart hanging in fear, already preparing itself to be ripped out when she finds out from someone else about this. “I won’t.” My heart begins to pull itself back up at the two words of comfort she whispers with her back turned to me. “Promise me you won’t hurt her Dan.” She turns her head slightly, catching my eyes as hers are full of the chill that hangs in the air around us. 

“I’d never hurt her.” I state honestly, the thought of her getting hurt, or feeling upset because of me is something I can’t fathom. She means too much to me, more than she’ll ever understand. 

Once Myla leaves I feel like I can breathe again. Sitting still I contemplate how I’ll tell her, explain something that I never thought I’d have to explain. When she saw me a few days ago it crossed my mind that she could recognise me, that my face would be known in her memory. But she was oblivious, she had no idea about me. Maybe she knows the band, maybe she likes our music. Then again if Myla hates it that much, I doubt she’d have much luck playing it without getting an earful. 

The dusk begins to settle outside and dawn starts the same process. I stand up and head back into her room knowing she would want to see this, she always does and regrets sleeping through it. At least that is what she always told me on the phone. Sitting upright on the mattress I reach over for my glasses, everything slightly clearer now, a sharper perception on it all. 

I glance over to her and see her mouth is now closed, her arm hanging on top of the blankets and her pillows are now decorating her floor between the two of us. She slowly begins to move around, her nose twitching and face shaking from the cold. The temptation rises as she opens her heavy eyes, tired still laced in her expression entirely. A small smile forms on her face as she sees me, nothing more as she lifts her arms up, stretching out before sitting upright. As she sits there, clearly out of it she is unaware of her hair expanding whilst she slept, of how twisted her top has become or the drool down her chin. Yet she is still peaceful, still content in the moment. 

“Sunrise is coming.” I whisper to her and she turns to face me, rubbing her eyes and letting out a loud yawn. Once it registers what I’ve said her face lights up, she throws back the thick pile of fabric that covers her and allows her legs to hang on the side of her bed, her tip toes just touching the fallen cushions. 

She quickly moves past me to her glass doors, unlocking them and opening them wide. Already the breeze picks up in her room, the door closes itself as the wind passes through it, now trapping the cold in here between us. With the morning light she stands in its way, blocking it from my view, yet it allows her to glow. Around her she glows orange, her hair in its wild state burns bright like her eyes as she motions for me to join her. 

Without thinking she’s out there on her balcony, bare foot. I grab a blanket for her and follow through as she leans against the railing, simply watching the silence of the morning evolve. Hesitant I hold the blanket up, wanting to wrap it around me and hug her from behind, but instead I throw it over her shivering frame and stand next to her, wishing I could be warm with her. “Here.” She mutters and lifts the blanket up. 

I move closer to her and she takes my hands, putting them around her waist until I have the blanket draped over my shoulders and covering her front. Between us our body heat spreads, she can’t see how my cheeks rise with the heat between us despite the chill that cannot pass through us but focus on stabbing my cheeks. “I can see what you mean by the sunrise here.” I whisper into her ear, moving her hair aside as I rest my head on her shoulder wanting nothing more than to softly kiss her neck and work from there. 

Shutting the thought out I zone back in on what she’s saying. “it’s why I chose this place. See the park where we met in the distance? Here it is out of it all, but still part of the city life. From my flat I can observe without interfering too much. It’s a bubble.” She chuckles to herself and I can feel her move against me, she’s calm here, there’s no fear, no panic in her tone. Only comfort, only the two of us. 

“There’s something I want to do today,” I speak up and she turns around, leaning against the railing, but her hands are on my hips. Her eyes lock with mine as she keeps full attention on me, not faltering at all. “I want to take you somewhere so you can hear some of the music I’ve written.” Her eyes immediately light up, her grip on me tightens as her arms wander to my back, interlocking there whilst mine move around her waist. 

“Really?” She can barely hide the excitement, the bright glow that locks into place in her gaze. Licking her lips she turns her head away, something changed in that second for her, she’s turning around back to face the sunrise. 

Unsure how to take it I step away, I wrap the blanket back around her. Moving back inside I pick my phone up and take a picture of her whilst she’s unaware. Over the course of the past few days I’ve wanted to take as many pictures as I can of her, of us. The sun rises higher now, almost at her level. Positioning myself I capture it in a way that she is a silhouette with the morning glow radiating around her whilst the buildings either side her remain dark. Smiling to myself I head towards the bathroom, passing Myla who gives me a knowing look. 

“I’ll tell her, today.” I state and Myla smiles to herself and stops me, her hand resting on my arm. 

“She secretly likes the little things over extravagant events. And if you want to get her flowers, get pink and white peonies.” Before I have the chance to thank her she has already closed her door. 

Standing in the middle of their corridor I smile to myself, thinking how it is all slowly fitting together. “Dan?” Turning around I wander back to her in her room. She is now sitting on the balcony, ushering me over. I hover in the doorframe, “Sit with me?” She asks quietly and without thinking twice I lift the blanket up and sit next to her. Her head rests on my shoulder and she releases a loud yawn. “Tell me about your favourite place to visit.” I glance down and her vision is focused on the sky ahead. 

For the next hour we talk about all the places in the world I’ve seen, the sights I’ve witnessed and the people I’ve been able to meet. We talk about her holidays, her own travels and upbringing. By the time we finish the sun has been up for hours, the city life has been underway and people are sat in offices working hard drinking overpriced coffees. Yet we sit here, we can afford to laugh and joke about the pleasurable little things. And I don’t want it to end. 

part five / six / seven