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I sigh. “I think Cleo, only because she needs me more than Chanel. As a sister, I know how well-versed and independent Chanel is. If she were to move to a new country and I would never see her again, I wouldn’t be as worried.” It takes everything out of me to say those words.
He nods and then gazes as the sun starts to set in front of us.
“If you had to choose between your mom or never talking aboutThe Simpsonsagain, which would you choose?”
Xavier gasps dramatically. “How could you ask me that?”
I give him a deadpan look. He’s acting as if he didn’t just ask me to choose between my two sisters.
“I can’t answer that.”
“Hey! You just made me choose.” I point a finger at him.
“I refuse.”
I get on my knees and closer to him, trying to prove my point. “That’s not fair,” I tell him.
He just smiles at me and replies with a “nope.”
“Absolutely not, you will answer!”
Catching me off guard he starts to tickle me, trying to distract me from how he’s cheating at the game. But I am stubborn, and it will never get past me.
His hands start assaulting my side and I fall onto my back. They roam my body as he tries to distract me and to be honest, it’s kind of working.
“Stop,” I tell him in between giggles.
“Never.”
“Xavier!” I tell him as he goes for my neck.
I laugh and laugh, short of breath.
“Please,” I plead.
“I’ll stop, only because you asked me nicely.” Once his hands stop, I open my eyes.
I notice how close he is to me. We’re face to face, and it’s as if time stops.
He notices as well, and his eyes move down to my lips. I’m suddenly hot and I realize that I want him to kiss me. His plump pink lips look inviting. His smell overtakes my senses.
He smells like the ocean, my favorite scent. It’s enticing and if he were to kiss me right now, I would let him.
Our breaths mingle as mine becomes shaky.
He snaps out of our trance before I do and pulls away, sitting up. Running a hand through his dark locks, he turns his gaze away from me.
I get up as well, trying not to make the silence even more awkward, but it’s as if anything between me and him isn’t uncomfortable.
I can still smell him.
“I would choose my mom,” he says abruptly.
I turn away from the sunset, which is turning into a lilac-magenta sky.
“The Simpsonsis already ingrained in my mind, so I wouldn’t need to talk about it as long as I have my mom with me. I would give up anything in the world for her.” He answers my question and a small smile spreads across my face.
He turns toward me without a smile, but he seems at peace, and this is the Xavier I love to see.
