Chapter 22: The Sound of Your Laughter Is Better Than A Movie

~“Some things we don’t talk about, rather do without and just hold a smile. I will be your guardian when all is crumbling, I’ll steady your hand.” —The Fray.~

Chapter Theme Song: “Never Say Never (Don’t Let Me Go)” by The Fray.

HARMONY

As a girl, it’s always smart to have an extra pair of underwear on hand for unexpected situations. And today, it seems, is one of those days. ~No pun intended~.

I step out of the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind me. My hair is still wet from the shower, hastily twisted into a messy bun with a few damp strands framing my face.

The scent of cheese and hot noodles wafts up from downstairs, making my stomach growl in anticipation.

But as I start to head back down the stairs, my gaze is drawn to Blaze’s slightly ajar bedroom door.

Memories of the party night flood back, and I tiptoe over, gently pushing the door open to peek inside his neatly arranged room.

His bed stirs up hazy memories of lying there that night, and the mat where we sat when he kissed me makes my cheeks flush all over again.

I’ll never forget what happened that night; those memories will likely stay with me forever.

My eyes land on a half-open white box on the floor next to his bed, sheets of paper sticking out, one of them featuring a crayon-colored drawing.

Curiosity piqued, I walk over and bend down to lift the lid.

Inside the box are several pieces of artwork, all seemingly drawn by a child. ~Could these be Blaze’s?~

I pick up the first one that catches my eye—a drawing of a little boy. Half of his face is crying, the other half faintly smiling.

It reminds me of the ~Naruto~ image I saw in English class, and I wonder if this is a self-portrait. He seems to have a thing for unsettling images with contrasting emotions.

There’s a caption at the bottom, scrawled in black crayon, and I squint to read the words.

~Save Me From Myself.~

I frown. If Blaze drew this when he was young, how could a child come up with such a deep phrase? And why would he need saving from himself?

I tilt my head, troubled by the drawing and its message. It seems like he’s expressing his feelings through his art.

Another drawing catches my eye, and I pick it up for a closer look.

It’s a woman, drawn in blue crayon, with yellow scribbles that look like tears streaming down her face. She’s holding what appears to be a gun to her temple.

Realization hits me, and I furrow my brows in thought. ~Is this Blaze’s mother?~

“Harmony!”

His voice startles me, and I quickly put everything back in the box and slide it under his bed.

I stand up quickly, wincing as I nearly hurt my back. I let out a soft moan before I leave his room.

Luckily, he called me from the kitchen, and I hurry down the glass staircase, trying not to look like I was snooping through his things.

“You called?”

“Yeah, I thought you fell asleep in the shower. We should get going if you want to be back at school by 4:30.”

I notice the two plates of cheesy pasta on the marble counter, and I’m impressed. It looks good, and it smells even better.

Well, at least I know Blaze can handle himself in the kitchen. That’s something to remember.

I lean on the table, my face lighting up like a kid with a new toy.

“You’re pretty handy. It smells amazing.” I smile, my dimples showing.

Blaze watches my excited expression for a moment, a small smirk playing on his lips, and I keep grinning as I raise an eyebrow.

“What?”

He doesn’t answer my question. Instead, he moves around the table.

I’m confused as he comes up behind me, his hands resting on the counter on either side of me, trapping me between his body and the counter.

Then he presses himself against me, and I gasp softly as heat floods my face.

~What is he doing?~

My smile fades into a nervous line as he buries his face in my neck, making my body melt against him.

“Of course I’m good with my hands. I made you come while you were still dressed.”

His voice sends shivers down my spine, and I suddenly find it hard to breathe.

He brushes the wet strands of hair from my neck, and my stomach flips as he kisses my nape, his lips cool and wet against my damp skin.

His hands grip my arms, and then he presses himself harder against me.

I hold my breath. “Blaze.”

“Mm?”

“I-I think we…we should eat.” I close my eyes, feeling his arousal pressing against my lower back.

~He’s being sexual again, and we’re alone in his house. My heart can’t handle this.~

My body trembles with anxiety, and I know he can feel it because my arms are shaking under his touch.

I feel him smile against my skin.

“Okay, let’s eat,” he whispers, and then he moves away and goes back to the other side of the table, leaving me breathless.

I grip the counter, trying to steady my shaky legs, and gather my wits before climbing onto one of the gray stools and reaching for the fork on my plate.

I try to forget the intimate moment we just shared and focus on the pasta, twirling a forkful of the cheesy dish.

The moment it hits my tongue, I’m speechless. It tastes like heaven; not too salty, not too bland, just the right amount of flavor.

Who would have thought he could cook something this delicious? I guess the saying ‘never judge a book by its cover’ is fitting in this case.

There’s something thrilling about uncovering new facets of Blaze, and I have a hunch there’s a lot more to him than meets the eye.

I flash him a grin, giving him a thumbs up as I chew. “This is fantastic!”

His smile widens as he takes a bite of his own food.

“Let’s watch a movie while we eat,” I suggest, and he nods in agreement.

“Sure. That was the plan, wasn’t it?” he says, pouring orange juice into two glasses.

We carry our plates over to his couch. I settle in, tucking my legs under me, and immediately dig into my meal.

He places his plate next to him on the couch and grabs the remote, turning on the TV and scrolling through Netflix.

“What kind of movies do you like?” he asks.

I shrug. “I guess...romance.”

“Hell no, I can’t watch romance.” He laughs.

I pull a face, my mouth full of food. “Why not?”

“Seriously, romance?” He shakes his head. “It’s all so fake.”

I narrow my eyes, suddenly more interested in this conversation than the plate of pasta on my lap. “What’s fake about it?”

“Two people meet, fall in love, have sex, break up. Then they get back together and live happily ever after. That’s not real.

“I bet a few years down the line, the guy’s sleeping with some random woman, or the girl’s cheating with some fake-ass dude. Then they break up for good and go on with their lives like they never fucked each other.”

“Well, it’s a movie, Blaze. The story ends when the credits roll.”

“I get that, but I’m saying that romance movies are misleading. They make you think love is permanent or genuine. Love is just a front,” he says matter-of-factly.

“People pretend to love someone just to sleep with them, or to get their money, or some other messed-up reason.”

I stare at him. ~Is that how he sees the world? Does he not believe in love?~ I’m afraid to know the answer, so I decide not to ask.

For most girls, that would be a huge red flag, a reason to stay away. But for someone like me, who can’t help but see the good in people...I’m still here.

~I don’t know what kind of pull this guy has on me. I just can’t seem to leave him alone.~

“Okay,” I say, twirling some pasta onto my fork. “We don’t have to watch a romance movie then.”

“No, we can if you want.”

“No, I don’t want to.”

He narrows his eyes. “Are you sure?”

I nod. “Yeah, let’s pick something else...”

He sighs and leans his head back against the couch, absentmindedly playing with the hem of my dress. “Did I ruin it for you?”

I shake my head, twirling my fork in the pasta but avoiding his gaze. My eyes are too revealing right now, showing things I’d rather he didn’t see.

“No, we can watch something else. I’m not really in the mood for romance either.”

“Okay, um...” He sits up and squints at the screen. “How about ~Saw~?”

I stiffen and finally look at him. “Isn’t that a horror movie?”

“It’s more of a thriller, but it’s not too bad. If you don’t want to watch it we can pick something el—”

“No, let’s give it a shot.”

~I absolutely despise horror and thriller movies.~

“Are you sure, green eyes?” He’s grinning at me, probably sensing my apprehension, and I try to act nonchalant, shrugging my shoulders.

“Yes. I’m sure. Let’s see what it’s like.”

“Okay...” He nods, biting his lip to suppress his smile. His eyes are sparkling with amusement, and I start to dread what’s coming.

He selects the movie and it starts to play while I stuff my mouth with pasta.

~I can handle this. It can’t be that bad, right?~

***

“Oh my God, skip this part!” I cover my eyes, turning my head away from the screen and burying it in Blaze’s shoulder as the characters’ terrified screams fill the room.

~Why did I agree to watch this with him?~

While I’m curled up in fear, Blaze is perfectly fine. He’s laughing and eating noodles, and I’m completely baffled.

What’s so funny about a thriller movie? Am I missing something?

“This is way better!” he says, grinning. “This is so much better than watching two people pretend to be in love. This is the real deal!” He chuckles.

“Are you actually laughing at a guy torturing and killing people?” I peek at him through my fingers, looking up at his wide grin.

He chuckles as he takes another bite of pasta. I have no idea how he can eat while watching such gruesome scenes.

“Yeah, I mean, they’re the idiots who got caught by a guy with a clown face.

“Look at that blonde girl—she’s just sitting there crying when she could have run away. That’s just stupid. I hope he kills her first.”

I gape at him. ~Is he serious?~

“You’re unbelievable,” I mutter to myself.

A loud scream from the movie makes me cringe. I bury my face in the space between Blaze’s back and the couch, feeling his body shake with laughter.

I feel like I’m missing out on some kind of joke, so I risk a peek through my fingers, only to immediately regret it when I see nothing but blood.

I try not to gag. I can’t eat any more pasta, not with people being butchered on the screen in front of me.

I set the bowl down on the coffee table, and Blaze gives it a quick glance before turning his attention back to me. “You don’t want this?”

“No, Blaze. I can’t eat while watching that.” I make a face.

“Ah, well, more for me then.” He grins at me, scooping the food from my plate into his bowl without taking his eyes off the screen, as if he’s afraid he’ll miss something.

~I’ve never met anyone who enjoys watching people get tortured.~

“I can’t watch this.”

I start to rise from my seat, but he quickly grabs my arm, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat as he pulls me back down. “No, stay. I like watching it with you.”

“But I don’t like it, Blaze.” I fold my arms across my chest, and he just smiles.

“Okay. Just don’t look, okay? Come here.” He tugs me gently towards him, and I scoot closer, keeping my eyes firmly away from the TV.

“Turn your back to the TV,” he instructs. I do as he says, tucking my legs beneath me. He places his hand on my right cheek, guiding my head down onto his shoulder.

“See? You can’t see anything now,” he murmurs into my hair, and I can’t help but smile.

I listen to the steady rhythm of his breathing, taking in the clean, fresh scent of him that I’ve come to love. It’s not cologne—it’s just him. Pure and perfect.

He’s laughing again, finishing off my noodles, and I find his deep chuckles far more entertaining than any movie.

^~“You’re dancing around on my mind every second. I’m under control till you’re in front of me. Maybe I’m scared, I don’t care, I’m addicted.” —James Bay.^~