Tarnished Love by Bianca Borell
FILIP
I don’t freak out. She was still asleep, and it’s not as if she proposed marriage. I dip my head and splash water on my face, gripping the tile. Home. It’s a simple word, but the scary part is I want that too.
“I am going to spend the night at my place.”
“Why?”
“I need a break.” Her words hit me hard enough that I stumble two steps back, and I realize how in tune we are. She sensed my mood, and her own protective instincts shot up.
“I want you to stay.”
“And I want to leave.”
“I guess we’re at an impasse.”
She raises her arms, huffing, and turns on her heel. Her clothes hang from the closet, it is as if she already lives here. I erupt into laughter, life happened before my mind got on board with this.
“Are you going insane?” she asks.
“I am an idiot.” She stops slicing my heart with her packing. She approaches me, I am sure a smart remark rests on the tip of her tongue.
“Not that I didn’t know, but it’s refreshing to hear you admit it.”
I chuckle and crane my neck to confess, “To be honest, it scared me when you said ‘home,’ and I went into panic mode.”
“I was still asleep,” she huffs and lands on the edge of the bed.
“No, it’s all right, because we have been playing house for a while, but I didn’t fully grasp it until now. You’re my first actual relationship, Chloe.”
“Things moving too fast?”
“No, because it’s me wanting this too, and it’s you meeting me halfway.”
“I am also scared, Filip.”
“Yes, but do we react out of fear and sabotage this?”
“Most would say taking small steps is the cautious approach.”
“Were they ever in love, because I have no fucking control over what I feel for you. And still there are moments when it hits me and . . .”
“Filip . . .”
“Don’t go,” I plead. I want to assure her it has nothing to do with her.
“And still maybe we should keep some distance, doing things on our own.”
I already planted the seed of doubt inside her. I hate this, it’s up to me to make it better again.
“Do you need the distance?” I squat between her legs, interlacing our hands. She bites on her lower lip,
“I am pretty much more away than at home . . .” Translation, she likes this, but she doesn’t want to force herself on me.
“Me neither. It was just a momentary freak out.”
“It won’t get easier. The more serious this gets . . . and I can’t risk . . .” My head hangs, and she bends and kisses my cheek.
“I am not mad, on the contrary, I always expect you to be honest.”
“Yes, well, it’s hard when it drives you away. You realize my subconscious will associate you leaving me now with stopping me from ever doing something similar.”
“This is not right, Filip, you’re manipulating me.”
“No, Chloe, it’s me being honest.”
She huffs but stops attempting to leave. Honesty in our relationship wins, and it is liberating. It’s me who snuggles into her when we hop into bed, while she caresses my head, and we drift off to sleep.
***
I swear if you don’t behave. I type in the group chat, and Nico sends me a shit emoticon, Micha sends laughing his ass off. This is a bad idea. They storm through the door, and when they see her, they stop so quickly they practically run into each other.
“Hi, guys.”
“Hi,” they say and wave while I shake my head at them. Have they any idea how idiotic they appear right now? Though I don’t blame them since she looks fucking stunning wearing a tight black jumpsuit. Hey, I can gawk at her, she’s my girlfriend.
“Stop eye fucking her,” I mumble, and they snap out of it while Chloe disappears behind the door, giggling.
“You are together?” Nico whispers. Is he slow in the head?
“Why are you whispering? She knows we’re together.”
“Ah, okay.”
“Dude, what is wrong with you?”
“Damien gave up on that for Monica? What’s wrong with him?” I shove him into the wall, his eyes widening.
“You don’t know shit.”
“Filip, come on.” Micah comes between us, adding, “He’s an insensitive bastard.”
“I didn’t know this was serious,” he says, and I unclench my hands.
“It is.”
I pour myself a glass of whiskey, and they follow. Chloe stares at me, questioning what happened, and my bad mood evaporates.
***
We take the elevator to the fiftieth floor, sliding past the bouncers.
Eyes roam between me and Chloe, but no one says anything. Our table fills pretty quickly. I catch myself glancing at my watch. All I want to do is get home, slide that dress off her, and slip myself inside her.
“You’ve got it bad,” Micah says, amusement ringing in his words. I nod, why pretend? With feelings it’s impossible.
“I have never seen her look at Damien like she looks at you.”
“They never were together.”
“What?”
“So, Angelina?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Yes, she is with an English guy, Nico doesn’t like it.” I stare at him as he looks at her, rolling his eyes, muttering under his breath.
“He never deserved her.”
“But it’s now he realizes he lost her.”
“Serves him right,” I say, and we clink our glasses. I warned him a hundred times this would happen.
“So, how come?”
“They are friends, and now let’s change the topic.” Which means we don’t talk anymore. With every glance she throws at me over her shoulder, my lust grows.
“Do you think she’ll introduce me to some friends?” says Nico, plopping on the seat next to me, throwing a peanut in his mouth.
“Why don’t you ask her.”
“I did, she said if she ever comes to like me, she will.” My head falls back and I laugh, while Micah spurts out his drink.
“Shut up, you make me sound like I am fucking unlikeable.”
“You don’t even try.” He waves us off and introduces himself to a girl. Five minutes later, they disappear. He’s not a bad guy, he’s not a good one either, but he still is my friend.
“Long time no see,” Angelina chides and kisses me on the cheeks.
“Yes, always on the run.”
“Sophia misses you when you’re not there.”
“She has you.”
“Yes, but I am not you.”
I wink at her, and she points at Chloe.
“So.”
“So.”
“Always the tight lipped one.”
“Come on, you know me better.”
She smiles, and we catch up, then Chloe appears in my line of sight. I extend my hand, and she takes it and slides hers in mine.
“It’s always the same,” she says, vocalizing my thoughts.
“Should we go home?”
She nods, and after saying goodbye, we slip inside the elevator.
“I remember that time in Zürich.” Me too, it was the beginning of a slight obsession.
“I was so mad because I wanted you so much.”
“Not anymore?”
“Now I know you’re mine, so my madness is of another kind.” My arms snake around her waist, and I press my lips against her pulsing neck.
“I guess we were always something waiting to happen,” she whispers as we get in my car. I nod, because it’s true. I don't care anymore about Damien, my sister, the complications, the risks. Now I have her, and I regret nothing.
