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A warm feeling spreads through my chest, my earlier worries lessened by the weight of his words. In this moment, surrounded by the enchanting beauty of the orchids, I realize that even in the face of adversity, there is still magic and wonder to be found. All it takes is the willingness to see it.
“Thank you,” I say, my eyes meeting his in a moment of shared understanding. “Thank you for helping me find this place…and for reminding me that there’s more to life than just surviving.”
“Anytime,” he replies, his gaze never leaving mine. “That’s what friends are for, after all.”
We stand there, surrounded by the marvel of nature, but in my mind the word friends feels heavier than ever. And I hate it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Percival
AsIenterthegreenhouse, a world of vibrant colors and intoxicating scents envelops me. The air is thick with moisture, and I can feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the lush surroundings, but when they do, it’s like stumbling upon a hidden treasure.
I find myself unable to tear my gaze away from her. She stands among the orchids, her green eyes reflecting their vivid hues. Her delicate hands cradle one of the blossoms as if it were the most precious thing in the world. In this moment, she looks ethereal, otherworldly even, and I’m captivated by her beauty and unique perspective.
The sun filters through the greenhouse glass, casting a warm glow over the countless orchids surrounding us. Spencer’s green eyes sparkle like emeralds as she leans in to smell one of the flowers, and I’m struck by the intensity of my longing for her.
“Hey,” she says, her voice pulling me out of my thoughts. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Green,” I reply without hesitation, unable to tear my gaze from her captivating eyes. She chuckles softly and shakes her head, clearly amused by my answer.
“Of course, it is,” she teases, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“Only the ones with stunning green eyes,” I counter, forcing myself to look away as heat rises to my cheeks. I’ve never been one for commitment, but there’s something about Spencer that makes me want to change, to be better. And it terrifies me.
“Alright, Casanova, let’s get serious for a minute,” she says, her tone shifting. “Tell me something real about yourself. Something you’ve never told anyone else.”
“Something real…” I hesitate, wrestling with the vulnerability her request demands. But as I glance back at her, her eyes warm and encouraging, I find myself yielding to the sincerity of the moment. “When I was younger, I wanted to be a hero. But not like Superman or Batman, I wanted to be a hero like Donnie Darko.” The admission feels both freeing and frightening, laying my heart bare before her.
“Donnie Darko, huh?” Spencer’s eyes light up with interest, and I feel a spark of hope ignite within me. “I have no idea what you are talking about.Is that DC or Marvel?”
“Don’t you know Donnie Darko? Spencer, you need to be educated in good movies.” I say, surprised to find that I actually mean it. Donnie saved so many lives, sacrificing everything for the people he loved. Spencer saved my life, and I’d give everything for her.
“What movie?” she signs back, looking a little bit offended. Thank goodness, my thoughts are too scary lately. “I have great taste in movies.”
“I can’t believe you never have seen this one.”
“Ok,” she replies. “Tell me about this movie.”
“And spoil it for you? Wouldn’t dream of it. You must wait and see.”
“Tell me.” She insists, marking her words with her foot tapping on the ground.
“We have plans for tonight, but tomorrow…”
As we continue to explore the greenhouse, our conversation weaving from lighthearted banter to deeper revelations, I find myself torn between my lustful desires and the swelling of my heart whenever I look into Spencer’s eyes.
I grab her hand and take her out of there to lighten the weight of the moment. I’m navigating treacherous waters. It’s better to go back to sex, safe ground. There, I know how to move. Yes, in the most literal sense of the word.
The coastal scenery flies past us like an impressionist painting come to life, and I believe Spencer’s artistic soul will be captivated by the views awaiting us.
As we pull up to the house I rented for these days, its grandeur stuns even me—and trust me, I’m no stranger to opulence. Nestled atop sun-kissed cliffs overlooking the Pacific, the estate exudes sensuality and invites exploration.
“This place is amazing,” she signs. “You didn’t have to do it, Percival. I would be perfectly fine with something less… opulent.”
“Wait until you see the view from the living room,” I say, guiding her towards the door, then to said room and its floor-to-ceiling windows. As if on cue, a whale breaches in the distance, its massive form silhouetted against the horizon. Spencer gasps, her hands pressed against the glass as she watches the majestic creature dive back beneath the waves.
She breathes as if wanting to say something, her face lit with wonder. I savor the sight of her happiness, knowing that this moment—however fleeting—is one I’ll cherish forever.
