Seducing Mr. Grumpy

15. Firefly light. [Part 2]

The hijab is all tangled in her hair, so I take her neck with one hand, tilt her head back slightly, and carefully remove it, trying not to wake her. It’s in vain, though; she does wake up. I freeze when my movements make her murmur something in her sleep. Then she searches for me, finds my chest, and snuggles against me, her small hand grabbing my shirt in a fist—such an innocent and simple gesture, but one that feels like it stays with me.

"Why did you never reply to my messages?"

I freeze when I hear the pain in her words.

"Because I’m an i***t, baby."

"Mmm…" she murmurs, "you’re a bit of an idiot."

"And I never know how to act when it comes to you."

"It hurts..."

"I’m sorry."

"It’s fine, sometimes you get used to a certain kind of pain."

Damn.

I blink my eyes, staring at the streets as her words are too much to handle.

I don’t know what it is about Summer, but for as long as I can remember, I’ve had this inexplicable urge to run in the opposite direction of her. I’ve never tried to analyze the feeling, never known why, but that’s just how it’s been. And now I find myself in this position where I can’t run anymore, not anymore, and I have no idea how to act, how to face her, how to live with her.

It’s… bewildering, to say the least.

When the taxi stops at the hotel, I wake her, gently pushing her back.

"Mmm?" she murmurs, her deep blue eyes slowly opening.

"We’ve arrived."

"To Cuba?"

I suppress a laugh.

"No, just Dubai."

"Oh," she says, disappointed, then her eyes widen. "Oh!" she exclaims, excited.

She opens the door and I quickly pay the taxi before following her.

"Summer!"

I watch as she takes off her sneakers, throws her bag onto the sand, and runs straight into the sea, her arms extended to her sides as her hair dances with the wind. She reminds me of that night she danced in the rain, looking just as happy, just as magical.

I have no choice but to follow her, so I take off my shoes, toss my wallet and phone next to her bag, and run after her. By the time I reach her, the water is up to my waist. Summer bends her knees, letting herself sink and be carried by the waves. I catch up to her, wrapping my arms around her small frame and pulling her close to my chest as we come up for air.

She laughs, her lashes looking longer and darker, wet like that.

"It’s cold… the water’s cold."

"Sum…" I look at her, so speechless, not wanting to keep making mistakes with her.

"But not colder than you."

Well, I deserved that.

I lick my lips, again speechless as she tilts her face, resting her forehead on the center of my collarbones and staying there, breathing calmly, just living, because that’s how she is—just living openly, doing what she wants, saying what she thinks, loving who she wants, even if the other person doesn’t deserve it.

"Yes, you’re my friend," I whisper in her ear, bending down to say the words just for her, even though no one else can hear us. "I don’t know when you started being one, but you are."

"Yeah?" she sighs, briefly kissing my skin, and I tighten my arms around her, suppressing the shiver that runs through my body.

"And I care about you, you’re family."

"Family," she whispers.

"And the only way I know how to show how much I care is by taking care of you. I don’t know any other way."

"Nic," she tilts her head back, looking at me confused.

"I’m not overprotective because I want to control you or because I think you’re a child. It’s because I care about you, and the thought of something bad happening to you scares me. Do you understand?"

"I try."

"When my mom got sick," I swallow hard, trying to get the words out, "everything was a complete mess. My dad was fading before my eyes, Heaven just kept crying, and I found myself taking care of her and myself. I’m not saying my dad abandoned us, he didn’t, but he was too lost in the pain of seeing my mom sick to notice us. And I found myself taking care of a little girl when I was still one myself. It changed the way I saw life, changed me… and I don’t know, since then I’ve needed control, Summer."

Going from being a united, loving family to this chaos where we were all a mess was hard, really hard. Seeing what love did to my father, how weak and blind it made him, took its toll on me. I’ve never forgiven him for loving my mom more than us and more than himself. Because I know, if my mom had died, he would’ve lost himself with her. Heaven and I wouldn’t have mattered. And in the end, I don’t know who’s more selfish, him or me, for asking him for something that’s beyond his ability to give… And all that made me grow up too fast, seek control, and not want to let go of it. Not like he did, not like his love for mom made him, even losing himself.

Actually, mom got better, and things went back to normal, but not my dad and me. I couldn’t see things the same way, not like they were before. I needed to hold onto something, and that was control—the control of the company, control of my life, control of the family’s finances and every situation that could arise, because I knew my dad wouldn’t take control if something bad happened, so I had to be the one.

"We can make deals," she says.

"Deals?"

"Your love language is protection, my love language is affection."

"Okay…" I start to understand.

"If I give in, you give in."

"But it doesn’t bother me that you’re affectionate with me, not anymore."

At least, not like before.

"Doesn’t it?"

"I wasn’t used to it, but I’m getting the hang of it."

She smiles, the sparkle in her eyes returning, the one that had faded.

"It doesn’t bother you if I do this?" She nibbles on the tip of my nose, her legs wrapping around my waist as she puts her arms around my neck.

"It doesn’t bother me," I tell her honestly.

"And this?" She presses her forehead to mine, looking me directly in the eyes, sharing the same warm breath.

"It doesn’t bother me."

She smiles so much, so genuinely, that I don’t understand how so much joy can fit inside her.

"So, friends?"

I repeat the word in my head, and I don’t like it, but I don’t know why.

"Friends," I accept.

"Will you reply to my messages?"

"Every single one of them…" I grab her thighs and adjust her against me as a wave hits us. "You won’t get mad when I’m overprotective?"

"As long as you don’t cross the line," she warns.

"I’ll try," I smile at her.

"Deal," and then she lets out a squeal of joy, her eyes narrowing as she makes a move that throws us straight into the water. I come up to the surface, laughing, only for her to dunk me again, and then she starts playing, fluttering like a butterfly.

But no, that’s not true, because she doesn’t flutter, she shines… she shines with her firefly light.

[2/2]