26 An Almost K-

Jade.

     I sat there, lost in the cryptic whorls of Vasilis's Tartarean eyes that were slowly unfurling themselves to me, showing me glimpses of the secrets that lay beyond.

Pain. Longing. Loneliness.

He was just as tortured as I was.

'I Come From There' is a poem by Mahmoud Darwish, that speaks of the poet's struggles and feelings of isolated despair during the years he spent in exile, after being banished from his country by an opposing government that had been raining genocidal attacks on the innocent citizens of his country for decades.

The poem resonated so deeply with me because in a way, my life reflected slight similarities with that of a prisoner in exile, drowning in endless pits of agonizing home-sickness.

Everyday, I woke up feeling and knowing I did not belong where I was. No matter how much we moved all over the world, constantly living new lives over and over again, my homesickness and yearning for a place that did not exist never ceased.

I was not home. Not ever. And I so desperately wanted to go home.

Looking at Vasilis, now in a clearer light, I could see his longing; The desperation of his yearning splattered all over his face in shades of agony that had my insides knotting up brutally.

I wanted to hug him. Pat his hair softly and tell him that I understood, but I looked away from him instead, scared that the pit of emotion opening up within me would swallow us both if I did not pull myself together.

But it was such a wonder, how one tiny piece of information could tell and reveal so much about a person.

That's what art does. It unravels. It picks people apart and bares their truest selves.

I wondered if Vasilis knew how much of himself he had bared to me, just by telling me his favorite poem.

But a look inside the darkness of his irises told me that he did. I saw myself reflected, almost naked in the soft silver specks floating about in the abyss of his eyes, and I realized that we had both knowingly bared parts of our souls to each other.

An ocean of apprehension awakened with a roar within me.

I wanted to pull away, create a storm and make him forget the magnitude of what I'd just shared with him.

My loneliness was mine and mine alone. My lifelong secret. I did not wish for anyone else to know it like I did, or associate me with it.

I was spiraling into a pit of panicked regret, my heart beating wildly in my chest as I wondered what to do. I'd never been this vulnerable in front of another human being before, and I was quickly realizing that open vulnerability was not my thing. Nor did I want it to be.

I shifted away from Vasilis on the sofa, heart racing, chest tight. I was feeling nauseous.

But then a hand clasped around my wrist gently. Soft, cold fingers reached for my chin, pulling me in, pulling me close until I was looking into an abyss of overwhelming darkness again.

A breadth of space was all that existed between us.

From up close, his lips looked even more inviting. I was growing warm all over. The urge to lean in and close the small gap between us was so maddening, I had to hold my breath.

"Hey," his voice was soft as early morning clouds, heavy with precipitation, yet soft and dreamy. "It's okay." He said. "It's okay," as if he knew what was happening inside of me.

As if he understood, the eeriness of being vulnerable.

And I found myself listening to him.

It's okay.

My heart slowly stopped racing in fearful regret, its heavy thrumming now of something different. Something burning. Something related to Vasilis's fingers on my cheekbones, my lips. His thumb trailing along softly, carefully, igniting volcanoes in every spot he touched.

I closed my eyes and leaned closer to him, desperate for the feel of his lips on mine, and I thought I felt him lean closer too.

I could taste his breath now; Honeysuckle with a hint of mint. I could feel my body growing achingly full with want. I yearned to cover the gap between us and taste more than just his breath.

My hands reached out to wrap around his neck, and the distance between our lips was finally closin-

"Guys! Come over here! This has to be the COOLEST domestic elevator I've EVER seen! OH MY GOD!"

A loud screech split through the air and suddenly we were flying away from each other, eyes wide in realization.

Oh my god...

OH MY GOD!

My heart hammered against my chest, my breathing erratic as I struggled to get a hold of myself.

I was sitting on the far end of the sofa now, heart still racing 100km/h and my eyes wide at what I'd almost done.

I couldn't even turn to look at him. Embarrassment burned through every inch of my body at the pang of regret that was rapidly filling a part of my mind. I was realizing almost painfully, that the mortification would have been worth it, if I'd actually kissed him.

God, I wanted to kiss him so bad.

Even as I sat, seething in my embarrassment, all I could think of was moving back to him, wrapping my hands around his neck and kissing him.

Brittany came bubbling into the lounge, emerald eyes flared wide with excitement.

I wanted to smack her head so hard.

"Jade! Oh my god! Your house is so friggin cool! Can I move in?! Oh my god! I am totally moving in! As soon as I meet your parents, I'm getting on my knees and begging them to adopt me! Ahhh! This is insane!"

She continued rambling in a high screech, coming to sit on the sofa between Vasilis and I, completely completely oblivious to the tension crackling in the air, and how neither of us could meet the other's eyes.

An alarm suddenly blared to life, cutting Brittany's ramblings short.

"Oh shoot! We should have been knee deep in the project by now!" Her eyes went wide.

"You set checkpoint alarms for us being knee-deep in work?" I couldn't help but ask as my brow shot up.

"Yes," Brittany answered simply. "There are certain levels we need to have reached at certain checkpoints and we're so behind already!" She dumped a huge duffel bag on the table and started hurriedly pulling out books, pens and her computer.

"Alright comrades! Let's get to work!" She held up two pens, like swords ready to war.

I shook my head as my eyes met Vasilis's in a shared humor, non-redolent of our almost kiss.

"She's crazy," we said at the same time.