Mafially Yours

16

He placed the plate in front of me and sat again at the end of the bed, "Eat," he pointed at the bowl. I started to eat the noodles that had gotten cold, but I didn't complain. Even though it was cold, it was the best noodles I have ever eaten. With every bite I took, I could feel his gaze burn the side of my face. I saw a small smile creep at the corner of his mouth. But I refused to look, I was fighting the urge to have the eye contact his eyes were begging for.

"You're right, you don't look hungry at all," he pointed at the plate with the tip of his chin. Right when I looked up, and our eyes met, I knew that he just wanted to catch my eye and lock eyes with me. My heart skipped a beat, and a gulp was able to block my airway. I looked down at the plate under my hands to find it half empty.

"I am eating because it tastes good, not because I am hungry," I lied, taking another bite of the noodles. He scoffed and looked away for a couple of seconds until I spoke again. "You still need to properly apologize," I raised my eyebrows.

He let out a faint chuckle and shook his head, "I don't apologize."

"And I don't forgive someone who can't apologize when they do me wrong," I shrugged, challenging him.

His smirk formed on his lips as he fixed his eyes on me for a couple of seconds before getting up. "Come on," he took the plate away from my hands and placed it on the nightstand, then reached for my hand.

"What?"

"Just come."

"Where are we going, it's one in the morning?"

"You will see." He reached again for my hand, pulling me out of bed with the biggest smile on my face.

We drove for about ten minutes up a hill. He stopped when we reached the end of the road, turned the high beams on, and turned the car off.

I got out of the car and moved closer to the edge of the hill. As soon as I saw the view, I gasped. The wind took hold of my hair, making it fly in different directions, hitting my face.

I took a deep breath, feeling like I hadn't breathed for way too long. I let my eyes take note of every beauty I saw. It was dark, but everything was stunning: the big lake that was behind the mountains, the trees that filled everywhere under the hill, and on each side of the lake, the clear sky that held millions of floating stars. This place felt surreal. I feared that if I blinked, it would all be gone and I would be back in bed in the mansion.

"I knew you were going to like it."

I looked back at him. I couldn't hide my smile. He smirked, dug his hands in his pockets, and looked straight at me. His curls were dancing with the air, making a mess out of it in the process.

"I love it," I breathlessly said.

I took a seat on the ground, and a few seconds later, he approached and took a seat next to me.

"Most people I know are scared to come here at night. I somehow knew you wouldn't be."

"How can I be scared of something that beautiful?" I looked straight into his eyes, and he didn't dare look away. It had something to do with both of us. We both keep having endless eye contact because we both know how to challenge each other. He thinks that if he stares too much, I will look away because he would intimidate me, and I don't look away to prove him wrong.

A couple of hours passed, and not a second was awkward; even the silence between us was comforting somehow. We didn't talk much, but when we did, it was either about my father or the guys in the house. Every time I would ask a personal question, he would change the subject or give me a sarcastic comment. I understood that maybe he didn't want to open up, considering that we hadn't known each other for more than three days, so I didn't ask again. It was getting colder with time, but I didn't dare think about leaving here.

It was dawn when he asked, "Do you want to leave?" The world was lit, but there was no hint of the sun yet.

"No," I quickly responded, "I want one more thing before forgiving you."

He smiled and shook his head, "What?"

"I want to watch the sunrise."

He laughed.

He then asked me about my age. He asked me about where I live. He asked me if I went to college and why I didn't go to university. He asked me how I got close to my father, and I had to explain that he was both parents to me. I told him a little bit about my mother and how I know nothing about her, and he stayed silent. Maybe he knew something and didn't want to tell me, and I got too obsessed when my eyes met with the sun peeking from behind the water to even ask.

I smiled and clapped, "The sun!"

I watched the sun patiently move up, appearing from behind the motionless and vast water, giving more of itself with time, giving the world light after the darkness, welcoming a new day, and warming the coldness of the night.

"Let's go now?" He asked again.

I smiled, looked at him, and nodded.

"Isn't it beautiful though?"

He shrugged, "I hate the color orange, so I don't like looking at the sun."

I widened my eyes, taking in that I met a human who hates looking at the sunrise.

"What would be your favorite color then?" I asked, maybe he would answer this question without running away from it, as he did to all the questions I asked today. Even if I knew he wouldn't answer, I gave it a shot, "You know, since I know nothing about you." I added, maybe wanting to add pressure on him to answer the question.

"I don't know," he shrugged. Even such a simple question, Huncho wasn't able to answer. I mentally groaned. "What's yours?"

I sighed, "Red".

"Why red?"

I frowned. Who asks why your favorite color is your favorite color?

"Because it is bright. It is courageous. It stands out. It is romantic. It is sexy. For so many reasons." I paused, "Now you have to answer me."

"I don't have a favorite color."

"Of course you do. What is the color that you like seeing?"

"Blood."

My heart skipped a beat, but I refused to say anything.

I regret asking the only question he was able to answer. Who knew that such a simple question could have such a cruel answer?