Marry me?
1072 Words
"The garden is so beautiful. Let's go!" I said after placing my glass on the table. Did Jules go to carve a lighter himself or find one?
My ankles ached as I stood up: my poor long sexy legs. It would be good to have some fresh air in the garden, anyhow nobody will even notice even if I am gone.
"These heels will kill me." I whined, and grabbed my hand clutch and not forgetting my phone from the table too.
"Vhrea, I think you are drunk. Let me get you some lemon water." I sighed at his unenergetic old fashion remark of my enjoyment.
Beware, I am drunk I guess: two bottles of wine and whiskey can make you drunk and fill your bladder too!
"You can stay here Gabriel. I can enjoy myself." I declared and mis-stepped my first step, am I tipsy now?
"You still are stubborn." He commented and came beside me. Yes, I am. So what?
Giving him a cold black shoulder, I walked straight towards the door Julian had brought me inside, with Gabriel on my tail, seems refreshing to see him being a gentleman.
"Argh! These stupid heels!" I screeched–slurred in reality–and then rested my filled hand on the nearby cement white pillar and bent down to remove both of my shoes, black unbelted stilettoes kissing the polished floor.
I beamed a relieved smile, "Woah! It feels so good."
Humming an unfamiliar melody, I made my way towards the gate leading to the garden, ow, the carpet is too rough for my delicate feet, sorry dear skin of mine.
"Are black roses real?" I asked to God knows whom and went straight to the mentioned rose plant. Touching it with my fingertips I lowered my lips to kiss the petals. "You are so dark. You must be lonely among your colourful siblings."
I pouted in respect for its ability and strength to stand out among all these beautiful red, white, blue and yellow; basically, the rainbow roses.
"It's colder here. Why don't we take a quick stroll and head inside?"
I looked at him in disbelief, he did follow me here after all, but why was he carrying my thrown away heels in his hands? His fingers are so long, will they look good even in pictures?
"I am not a kid anymore. So, you can feel assured, I will be fine. I am twenty-one, two, three … and five!" The air suddenly felt colder due to the stress on the kid and him swearing to silence and staring at me: You've got to be kidding me! His gaze screamed.
"Is something bothering you?" He asked me after sitting on the cute small bench and safely settling my heels on the side bench.
"Yes. Why?" I replied, now staring at the red roses.
"Simply." He was being nonchalant again, like always. Don’t share, don’t answer, must be his motto of life. "Are you an angel?"
"What?" He looked confused, his brows aligning together as curiosity killed his eyes.
I shook my head and laughed, "Gabriel, don't try asking things which you can't help someone with."
"I know. But I can help you." Nobody can help me; comfort is not something anyone can give me, unless . . .
"Can you give me my father's murderer?"
He stared intently into my eyes; burning desire to kill, broken and ravaged is what he can find.
"No." Then he is of no help.
"And you say you can help me." I laughed at his absurdity.
"Himachal Pradesh is not an authority I hold. But I can assure you I provide life and shelter to countless people, and they trust me."
He sounded confident with his statement but it was no use to me.
"I am quite capable of living by myself so I wouldn't need that type of trust and help." I could be drunk but I still held my pride, and life values together in any situation.
He took another few minutes of silence, maybe trying to figure out how to tread his next wordings, it felt like he was trying to bid me over something, and this unsettling feeling inside me said that I will not like it much.
"Do you know you are as powerful as a rose?" I was quite surprised, so was my face. I didn't expect him to say something so random as the topic we were discussing previously held more serious gravity.
I tilted my head to the sides, twice: No, I didn't know.
"Roses have it all. They are beautiful, having the best odour and holds too much meaning when presented. Even after withered and dead it's thorns can still make you bleed." He explained, briefly.
"That's true." On que I turned to look around the rose garden; the roses all looked so pretty yet were somehow dangerous if you think about it.
"Like I said earlier I have an offer of benefit for you." That sounded too business-y.
"Gabriel, I am still the same Vhrea whom you rejected. Not worth your time. So, I don't see the logic." I said, probably mocked, maybe I still held a grudge for the disappointment and heartache he gave me.
"I know. Tell me what are you aiming for: justice or revenge?" Why was he changing topics like sunrise and sunset of the day?
Tired with my little walk I went to sit on the other side of the bench's arm, quite a distance from his position; social distancing, lol?
"What do you think?" I know it was an unreasonable question to throw back at him; he didn't know me for the past few years and I did change a lot, so does everyone except the turtle.
"You looked beautiful in the Freshquire magazine's August publication. There is nothing in the world as comforting as doing things with my own hands. Your words were very relatable."
I crossed my legs which pulled my frock a little too much above my ankles revealing my toned calves; morning workouts did pay off. Him and I definitely look visually attractive, together in a frame of a pretty this garden.
Why couldn’t he love me? Why do I still have those lingering feelings for him?
Why is it so hard for him to choose me over something more important in his life?
It’s only love that I ask for. Not his life.
- Writer
