Wonderwall - CH. 13

"She was an angel craving for Chaos. He was a demon seeking for peace." - Unknown

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"There you are darling. I've missed you," Ana greeted me and took me into her arms. I inhaled the pleasant smell of lavender, sweet and colourful, filling the air with her fragrance as she leaned forward a bit.

"I missed you too,"" I replied, pulling Mason next to me. It was much harder for me now that he was thirteen and the last few weeks had grown quite a bit.

"They'll hate me," he whispered in my ear and I sighed, "they're my grandparents not the military, let them pinch your cheeks and they'll love you," I whispered back and pinched him in the side.

My grandmother looked past me now. I knew she thought she looked at Mason, but he was on my left and not right side.

"She can't see," I explained to him, "you have to introduce yourself without trusting that she can see you."

"So, you're Mason,"" Gus, my grandpa, interrupted Mason's attempt to introduce himself. He appeared behind Ana, iIt's nice to meet you," Mason replied anyway, and for the first time I saw an anxious Mason. I smirked. He held out his hand, but my grandfather just looked at him critically.

"How do you feel about basketball?" he questioned, with a rather dubious look on his face, "I play myself," Mason replied, in his voice much more confidence than in the sentence he said before.

"And the Lakers?", Gus added as a test, but Mason's confidence voice only grew with the next sentence, "my favorite basketball team."

"I like the boy."

He turned his full attention to Mason, as if my grandma and I wouldn't even stand here, "a friend of Anthony Davis grandfather lives next door. I think he's home right now. We could walk by and say Hello."

Mason's eyes lit up and I had to laugh. How easy it was to excite a 13-year-old boy with his favorite sport. It wasn't the silly shoes that basketball players wore, or the way they ruled the court while playing. It was the passion in his heart and soul that made Mason the basketball enthusiast that he was.

"Gus, Robin hasn't been feeling good the last few days. I don't think he'll open the door," my grandmother interjected, but my grandpa just reacted with a lousy sound, "then we'll annoy him until he comes out by himself. Do we have any eggs?"

My grandma sighed, while Gus was already running towards the fridge and took out an egg pack, " Take an egg, then ...," I heard him saying to Mason, then the two disappeared.

" Wow, I haven't seen grandpa walking this fast since the Italian Restaurant next door gave out free ice cream," I mumbled, and my grandma laughed. I loved it when she laughed. She was one of my anchors. It was like her laugh let me forget for a minute.

" What are they doing with the eggs anyway?"

"It's better if we don't know," she replied and searched with her hands for something in the top layer of her dresser, "I want to give you something,", she explained, and suddenly, her hands stopped rummaging through the holding a small package in her hand. It was a dark blue packet wide and flat, and adorned with a large red bow.

"Open it," she whispered with a smile on her face.I took it gently from her hands and opened the red ribbon slowly until it almost fell off by itself. Her grey eyes were watching me full of love.

In the package was the most beautiful necklace I had ever seen. It was made of real silver, and consisted of five small oval diamonds, though I did not know if they were real. Outside they were smaller and kept getting bigger, until they met in the middle with the greatest one. It was polished to a shine. It glittered attractively in the light and the guilt I had been carrying on my shoulders disappeared in a moment of astonishment. I ran my hands over its polished surface. It was much heavier than the chains I wore, but I hardly noticed how heavy because of its beauty. I had never seen such a beautiful necklace before.

"It was your mother's," my grandma explained, smiling softly, "before it happened."

I swallowed hard. I hadn't told anyone yet. I banished it from my thoughts. The pills made me forget.

"She has changed in the last few weeks," my grandmother said softly and took the necklace out of my hands, "but you must not forget how she used to be."

She took the chain and groped where the back of the lock was. I leaned forward and she closed the it behind my neck.

"Thank you, Grandma," I whispered, hugging her tightly. The warmth of her heart seemed to take over mine, "of course. Can you promise me something?"

I nodded, "everything."

"Promise me you will not forget how she used to be," she asked me and stroked over my hear with troubled eyes.

"I promise."

I stroked over slim neck as I held the necklace on it. I shouldn't wear it, should I? I had been so afraid to lose it that I had only taking it out of its home once in the last four years. It did not only cost a fortune, but was the only piece of clothing that was meaningful to me. I sighed one more time and made my decision. I closed it behind my neck after giving it one last affectionate little pat. Tonight was the night that shall should be shining as brightly as the jewel.

My phone vibrated and I took a look, "I'm leaving in ten; meet me there?" - Veronica

Tonight was the charity gala event. It was the only event of the year that I looked forward to. That's why I had dressed up quite a bit - more makeup graced my face, and the silver necklace, pearl earrings and a sapphire bracelet enhanced my favourite features. My dress was a sleeveless, black long dress. I liked myself in dresses more than I acknowledged – jeans never seemed right for my body type. But this dress seemed as if it had been tailor-made for me, and only me.

"That's fine. I'm on my way." – Melea.

All of them had been texting me that I should be at the gala by now. As if they had been waiting for me for some reason. Even Derek dared to pick up his phone, though he usually had a problem doing so. The only one that had never texted me was Taylor.

The incident had happened two weeks ago. Taylor behaved as usual, even though we didn't do as much as we used to with each other. He hadn't even touched the subject. I hadn't had much time to think about it, so I didn't. And he didn't. And with that, he confirmed my assumption – I was too much of a dreamer. Nothing had happened between us. He didn't want a change.

I clipped away the left side of my hair as usual, and it looked good instead of messy for a change, then I picked up a Gainsboro-coloured shoulder bag and walked down the stairs. I was afraid to trip on the ends of my dress, but to my own surprise I didn't. I saw my mum near the front door talking to Emely, "Well, over the break, I would appreciate if..." my mum stopped talking when she heard me walking down the stairs. Both of their heads turned to my direction, and a warm smile graced Emely's face, "you look stunning."

This was the first time for long that Emely had complimented me. It sounded silly to enjoy it, but I did.

My mother saw the necklace that rested on my neck and intensively gazed at it without saying a single word. Her eyes were full of water. She remembered.

I walked further towards her, and she wrapped her arms around me quietly. We both said nothing, we just stood there and held each other. It had to look strange to others: the way we stood in front of the massive front door without communicating, while Emely was standing right next to us with the greatest smile in the world. But for me it was one of those moments I would never forget. For a moment, I had my mum back. Not the perishing cold woman, who that said things I never dared to repeat, but the loving mother she used to be. She broke away from the embrace and smiled slightly at me.

"Wow," I whispered, more to myself than to anyone in particular, but she looked up, "what?", she asked as she heard it anyway, leaning her head to the right.

"Nothing. I just haven't seen you smile for a long time," I murmured, and smiled at her. We were all quiet for a moment, and another smile appeared on my mother's face. A smile was just the twitching of corners of the mouth, yet that twitching had once been deciding about whether I had a good or bad day. It had once been the thing that kept me alive. My anchor. But overtime, as it vanished more and more, I learned to be my own one.

"Have fun," she whispered and I nodded slowly, "thanks Mum."

With that, I opened the door and got into the car. I smiled the minute I slammed the door shut, remembering my mum's smile.

Today was a good day.

"Ugh, finally!", Veronica wrapped her arms so tightly around me when I arrived that she hindered me from breathing, "Veronica," I said through clenched teeth, and she understood and let me go. Next to her was Sofia, a glass of champagne in her hand, "I thought you're not coming anymore," she asked, hugging me as well.

"I'm only half an hour late," I replied with a smile, "you know that there are watches? Cell phones? Alarm clocks?"

"Am I delusional or are you more infuriating than usual," I questioned with a frown, "Derek still didn't talk to her," Sofia answered the question that had been reserved for Veronica.

"That's why you're being so annoying? Ugh, Veronica, still Derek?", I rolled my eyes, and tried to show her with a begging look on my face that I wanted her to drop the topic, "how can you hold a grudge for so long?", she crossed her arms, and the long sleeves of her short golden dress shoved themselves up.

"Derek just needs time. Give him that," the look on my face was now rather understanding, and she shook her head slowly, "I know, you're right."

"Apropos guests you'd rather not see," Sofia interjected and gestured to two teenagers a bit further away from us, 'that girl has been all over my brother for the past twenty minutes."

I saw some beautiful stranger in a rose dress, the cutout of it slowly going down further as the conversation continued," looks like he's not having it," I shrugged my shoulders.

Jeremy just stood there, nipping on his glass that I hoped was filled with something alcoholic for his own good. His body language clearly revealed his disinterest, but he was too polite to let her down. His eyes were looking around the room, as if he was searching for anyone he'd rather start a conversation with.

"Get him out of there, Sofia," I begged her and she rolled her eyes, "okay, okay, but he owns me for this one. I'll go and get..."

"Meleeea!", a voice shouted in a split of a second and hugged me from behind the next, "I'm so glad you're here. Let's dance?"

"How many drinks did you have?" I asked Kara, a friend of mine. The glass she had in her hands was empty, and smelled like a mixture of cough syrup and sweet fruit juice. I took the glass out of her hands, while she already pulled me to one of the dance floors, "No idea, maybe five or six," she replied with a shrug, "let's dance."

I chuckled as she pulled me further on one of the small dance floors in the big hall. We started dancing silly. We were by far the worst dancers on the dance floor, but I couldn't imagine a better dance partner. The dance floor here was like a wall of people dancing to the club music – like we were all one, moving our bodies to the music the organizers had decided upon. As if they weren't any dreadful dancers – well, we were. We were dancing like it was our own kind, twisting, turning, holding hands as we changed sides. We grinned like idiots, but we were just happy inside. Kara started to tell one of her stupid drinking stories during the dance, which made me laugh so hard that I had to stop dancing for a while. Kara was one of the friends that I never had an argument with. She was the life of party herself; funny, charismatic, even-tempered. Sometimes I wished I was more like her. More carefree.

"We should get a drink together sometime," she demanded on our way to get one, "and you think that's a good idea? What if your dad locks you out again?"

"Oh, we'll survive. Camping in your own garden isn't so bad. Well, if you have one unlike us," she giggled and I joined her. I used the dance break to take a look at the salon. The ceiling must have been fifteen feet high. Designs of flowers of every kind and shape were carved into the white polished mouldings, and Vases of blossoms gave off a sickly sweet, but somehow pleasant smell from them. Apart from the flowers, the decorations allowed the hall to shine in its best possible way.

Suddenly, I felt someone's gaze at me. It was a powerful gaze. One that demanded me to search for its direction. I looked around but couldn't identify the direction where it was coming from. But then I met two dark eyes, that were gazing at me with so much cherish, that I knew who they belonged to.

Taylor stood next to a kind of cocktail table all alone, but with three glasses on the table, all empty except for his.

"I'll go over there and greet him if that's fine by you," I asked Kara, but she just winked at me, "I'll need to catch up with some of my friends anyways. See you around!"

I walked towards him and expected him to say something but he didn't. Instead, he watched my every move as I walked over to him, looking at each and every part of me with full appreciation. As I was standing in front of him he opened his mouth for words to come out, but closed it right after. I could not stop staring into his eyes.

"You're here," I said quietly, almost whispering, "Charity should be cherished," he answered, still looking at me with such warm eyes that I got soft.

"Where is everyone else?", I asked to interrupt my silly thoughts, and tried to stop the eye contact but I couldn't, "getting another drink," he replied. He expected me to say something, but I didn't know what.

"Let's dance," he then said without waiting for my answer, taking my hand and pulling me near the main dance floor.

"I can't dance," I said with a smile, but he shook his head, "I remember you having ballet in elementary school. You were practicing for hours and hours in that stupid little studio. I always had to wait hours for you to come out," and while he was saying that, I found myself walking towards the people that were dancing even further, until we were one of them. He grabbed my arm softly, and I told myself that I had no other option than to follow him.

I had to laugh slightly at his answer, "I was seven back then. You know I stopped after a year."

"You never stuck with anything for more than a year," he replied with a challenging smirk, "at least you stuck with basketball."

"I do it from time to time," he replied with a shrug, then put his one hand on my hip, while his other one was asking for mine.

"So you can't dance. Looks like I have to guide you."

I smiled, giving him my hand and putting the other one on his shoulder. The song changed. It was still similar, but different.

The introduction of the song began to play.

Give me love, like her.

He said he would guide me and he actually did. With his hand resting on my hip, he began to move a step forward, while I went a step backwards. Still staring into my eyes. I couldn't resist either. I just wanted him to hold me.

As the line said Hide and Seek, he raised his eyebrow. I chuckled. He used to always play it with Derek, and whenever us girls saw them afterwards they were arguing. Though they made up really quick, the ten-minute argument repeated itself each time. It seemed as if we both had the same picture in our heads as the song repeated the word – our faces revealed our similar minds.

He twisted me around, then holding me up, like all the other dancers did. I still wasn't able to resist looking into his eyes.

He put me back down. His eyes were such dark pools that I found myself getting lost in as I began falling for him.

He was my world in that moment. The music began to start with the second Chorus, and I began to smile even more. Countless times, I stepped on his feet, but he still smiled at me as I wasn't a total disaster. Though, I knew I was. He laughed, when he heard the noises my high heels made when they clicked over the floor. My hair, that was clipped back on the one side began to slowly loosen itself and I usually would have the urge to clip it back again. But in this moment, I did not care. This memory of us was perfect. This dance, that we shared, just the two of us, was one of the memories I knew I would be stored in my memory forever.

Nothing mattered.

We both turned our heads and laughed at each other, when he began to lift me up a bit in the last refrain. I was completely lost in these dark pools.

When he pulled me down, there was this tiny moment where he was still holding me, our faces not even an inch apart. Our closeness left me breathless. A single strain of my hair fell out of my hairclip, and he laughed. A genuine laugh. I had to laugh too, just by the thought of him telling me again that no one would wear their hair like this. It felt like he wasn't reserved anymore; rather than that he was himself. Like he forgot the role he played again, but this time, the show was over for good. My facade began to crumble, in the exact moment where another laughter was coming out of his mouth. His eyes full of love. I wanted to be the only one he shared that laugh with.

"Let's get out of here," he said while a genuine smile crossed his face.

I laughed as if his suggestion was silly, but nodded to my own surprise. Hand in hand like little children, we ran out of the building. Away from responsibility, away from regrets, away from judgement. Everyone stared at us, thinking we were fools, but we kept on running. My feet turned wound, so I stopped, took my shoes into my left hand, and then continued. Taylor just laughed at me. A taxi dropped right at the entrance, and a woman with excellent style, not older than forty, left the car. Taylor opened the door for me with an exaggerated glance.

I grinned and he closed the door after he had entered. He told the driver his address, who went ahead and drove immediately after. I was watching the city while driving; the dark sky, that was somehow so full of light. My cheeks were red, my breath gentle. The city was magnetic; all the lights seemed to be little fireflies in a city full of chances. Maybe I was just so overwhelmed by the city lights because I never felt as happy as in this moment. I was utterly consumed by happiness in every way. I smiled at the skyline, and when I looked at Taylor, his eyes even darker in the night but so full of care, knowing, that he was the only one who could make me feel like I was free, I remembered something Veronica once told me. "You crave for more so many times, but you're so smitten on the thought that someone would hurt you someday". And in this exact moment, she was right.

I was craving for more, I just hadn't noticed it. I was so smitten on the thought that he would hurt me someday that I kept my facade up. To protect myself. To never suffer as much so much that it would destroy me. But this night, I did not care; Taylor smiled back at me, and when he did, I realized that I wanted to risk it. No matter how much it would destroy me. My facades disappeared. I had nowhere to hide no more. It was just us.

The taxi stopping brought me back to reality as I realized we were at Taylor's father's house. We got out and he opened the front door, getting his keys out of the chique black slacks. We walked upstairs to his room. I realized I never went into his room in his dad's house - we always stayed at his mums. I've slept over at his house in the guest room or on his couch, while he slept in his bed or the other way around. But he'd never let me into his room at his father's house. The only person that I knew was allowed to enter the room at his dad's house was Derek. No one else.

As we walked into it, my amazement about the wide variety of his personality grew. I expected to see a closed-off room in cold colours, that could've easily been re-found in any of the other houses down the street. But no - I had never seen a room as personal as his. The walls were full of pictures; pictures of distant relatives, lost friends, close family. The windows were the same as the ones that garnished all the exterior walls. They ranged from the ground to the ceiling on the side of the ground floor entrance, which was across from the rooms entrance door. On the right wall was a huge TV, and next to it, a simple grey desk with an olive-coloured laptop. On the right side of the TV was an immense bookshelf; it was even taller than Taylor and filled with all different kinds of books. His room was great in size that the darker-coloured carpet on the floor was not big enough to fill the floor - it only filled the small part of the floor between the bed and the TV. The bed, on the right side of the room, was set higher; there was an elevation the floor, on which his bed was set on. It was white, with different kinds of coloured pillows and a white, thick blanket. Next to it was a high, polished wardrobe. The ceiling did not hold a home for a single lamp, but tiny, little round lights, that were chiselled into it. He pressed some buttons on a remote, and the lights turned to a dark blue. He was probably able to change the color according to what he felt like on that day. Quiet music was playing.

I never saw such a beautiful room before. It was organized, but not too organized. The colours seemed to perfectly amplify one another. The way the furniture was arranged seemed to enhance the room's potential to its fullest. But the most amazing thing was the way I could see parts of his soul in each and every thing that his room held a place for.

"I never went into your room at your father's house," I said softly, sitting down on his bed. The white blanked was softer than I imagined.

"I usually don't let people in here," he mumbled, and followed me, "Why?"

He sat down on the other side and replied with a shrug, "I don't know. It's personal."

"Isn't that your room at your mum's too?", I asked, raising an eyebrow but he shook his head, "no. That's different," he replied, and as he saw my raised eyebrow, he smirked in a mocking way.

I didn't ask any further, I realized he didn't want me to. I was okay with him keeping things to himself. I was grateful with the things he already told me about him. It was enough for me.

"We never talked about...," I didn't end the sentence, he knew what I meant. His panic attack after the incident. It seemed as if it had hurt him more than it hurt me.

He swallowed. My fingers were interlaced behind his neck," what were you so scared of?"

"The pain in your eyes."

We remained silent. The music was still playing in the background, being the only thing that broke the silence between us.

It was like time was standing still. I felt his breath on my skin. My skin began to turn up, because of all the things I was scared of. I was scared, I really was, even though I didn't know why. But it was like he was able to get me calm in a way, that I didn't know before. He gave me reassurance when I couldn't give it to myself. The space between us was almost non- existent anymore. I looked up. I saw in his deep, dark eyes. I saw in his soul. They showed me his soul. I saw the emptiness, that he kept deep inside of him. I saw his fear of having feelings for someone, his fear of rejection. I saw the light, that he was for me. The light, that he was, when he laughed and was himself for once. I saw his determination. I knew it was hard for him to trust someone this much.

"I'm scared," I whispered, and realized that I was slightly shaking, "I know," Taylor leaned forward, "I am too."

And then, our lips touched. His lips found their way to mine.

It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be.

The kiss was brief. I honestly never knew a kiss could be so innocent, so pure, so deep.

He made me feel like none of the things mattered. His kiss stole the words I didn't need to say.

It was different.

This wasn't my first kiss. He wasn't the first one.

But the way he made me feel like let me believe that he was.

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Wonderwall - someone you find yourself thinking about all the time; a person you are completely infatuated with.