Raven's point of view.
His words confirmed my doubts, Azure Family has an ulterior motive. Nobody is willing to befriend my father for no good reason, not when they already got rid of him from their lives.
Uncle Edward must have heard that my father is about to sell his biggest piece of land. He must have introduced some weirdly good project to him and asked him for an investment in pretext of friendship.
This has happened so many times, that I am getting good at guessing the situation. I wish I wasn't. I sighed deeply, knowing I won't be able to stop my father from wasting his money.
I turned to Aidan and asked, "Your father must be here too, perhaps for a business deal."
"Yes, how do you know?" He raised his eyebrows, taken aback.
I smirked and said nothing. Now I can bet my entire savings. Azure family needs a stupid investor like my father.
The bus stopped, and I asked him, "Get aside, let me go. The stop is here."
He stood up, glancing at me with hateful eyes. The fourteen year old me would have shattered but now I don't care if he hates me. It would be better if he hated me even more.
It should have a reason, though. At first, he hit me, but I didn't hear him apologise to me. Nobody has ever slapped me on the face. I should be the one with that deep hatred.
MEN
"Wait, where is your car?" I asked, suddenly remembering the obvious.
"I gave it to my friend, he will bring it to my home. You were right. I was too exhausted to drive. I didn't think you cared about me that much." His words sounded casual at first, but my observant self caught that peculiar tone. Some might think he is just flirting. But I know he is looking for something. Something that he shouldn't.
His impression on me. His place in my eyes.
There is no need for me to give him what he wants. He must have been anxious, not getting much validation from me. One thing that I learned from reading tonnes of books is that a man's ego is as delicate as cotton candy. They are hurting easily. I see how I am not affected by him after all these years. He must feel down.
…
He followed me to the elevator, and as soon as we reached the floor where my father usual stays, he stopped me and said, "You didn't get a dress."
"I am dressed in the best attire I have." I replied, he hadn't said much in a while, he must have been in his daydream and just came back. I hurried to put on a mask to hide the marks on my face. If my father sees it, he will ask numerous questions, but I am afraid he won't ask any.
"No wonder Uncle wanted you to get a dress." He looked from top to bottom and said.
"Thank you for the compliment." I said, bowing my head slightly and knocking on the door.
My father opened the door with an unpleasant look, I got inside and he followed me there as well, I was puzzled at first but then I saw Uncle Edward, he had that sinister smile of a bandit.
"I sent him so that you can come here quickly, why are you so disobedient?" He asked, sitting on the sofa across from Uncle Edward.
"We talked about this." I sat down as well. I had been running around all day, getting the gigs done and earning as much as I could in the last minute. It was my birthday, but the next day, it was my parent's anniversary.
"This is the dress you got her?" Uncle Edward raised his eyes and asked his son. He was about to speak but I interrupted him and said, "Yes, I bought the dress I could afford."
"You made her pay?" He glared at Aidan. I couldn't help but say, "I don't like to touch the money that isn't mine." I looked at Uncle Edward, my heart was full of bitterness. He was the same person who had badmouthed me to one of my distant aunt whom he met at a wedding. That aunt of mine hates me, but even she was embarrassed and offended by his words.
He said and I quote, 'She always pretending to be sick to get away from chores. She has no demeanor of a young lady. So arrogant, she thinks she is some princess, my daughter wanted to take her to a party and she refused. What is she afraid of? Someone will like her? O this fatty is always daydreaming.'
"You were quite happy when Richard bought you that expensive brush pens." My father didn't waste the opportunity to humiliate me.
"That's a different thing. He paid me for ghostwriting his articles." I cleared the misunderstanding right away.
"Whatever, I don't care if you want to be dressed like that in the meeting." He rolled his eyes and stood up, buttoning his suit, "When I call you, come down to the 7th Avenue with Aidan. Be nice, there would be many big shots."
"What meeting?" I don't know why my eyes turned to Aidan for explanation.
"You will know." He said and left the room with Uncle Edward, I rested back on the couch with a deep sigh, 'So, he isn't here for my birthday.'
"I swear I have no idea about the meeting he mentioned." Aidan sat down and said.
I didn't respond to him, even if he did, I didn't care, I figured out everything, and I am even betting my entire savings on this. It should trouble me, but it didn't; my father didn't ask why I was wearing a mask.
Seeing how Uncle Edward didn't either, I guess, he knows that his son slapped the hell out of me. He must have told his father so that he could defend him if I complain to my father.
"Raven." He called my name in a serious tone. I looked at him, his eyes filled with…a glow, a fire. I shook my head, I must have lost my mind. It was the similar gaze from ten years ago, no, it isn't. That time, it was my fire that reflected in his eyes and I mistook it for love. I wouldn't do the same mistake.
My silence allowed him to speak further, "Do you really not blame me for slapping you?"
I chuckled softly, reminded that I should treat my face or else I will get a scar, I stood up and turned to the giant mirror, and took out a wet napkin from the drawer, which is always placed there. I removed my mask and began to clean it.
I looked at him through the mirror, he was still waiting for his answer, I took a deep breath and applied the ointment that I always carry, it is from China, effective for all sorts of bloody wounds, "No, I don't. Why would I blame you? I should rather apologize on behalf of Richard, he hit you first."
"It seems like you are taking my side, but why do I feel you are protecting him?" His words sent chills down my spine, what did he mean by that? I am not taking anyone's side, I am stating the facts. I had no words.
"Let's say, someday, I hit him or anybody, will you apologize to the victim on my behalf?" His strange question threw me off the cliff. He hit someone, what does that got to do with me?
"Why would I apologize?" I laughed to brush off the potential tension between us.
"But you just did, on that Richard's behalf." He spread his arm on the couch's edge and titled his head.
"Richard hit you because of me." I nearly threw the ointment, but then I remember it was glass, so I restrained. Aidan was getting on my nerves.
"So will I…" His soft breathy voice and narrow eyes pierced me.
"Why would you do that in first place? And you can't go around hitting people and say it was because of me. Why should I take the responsibility of your ruffian acts? And you are constantly comparing yourself with Richard. Let me get this straight! He is the head of my literary club, he is not usually that violent. He has a good temper. He is my…"
I began to explain but then he stood up, enraged, gritting his teeth, and clenching his fist, "Before you say boyfriend, I better leave or I might not be able to hold back."
I froze, but then a laugh squeezed out of my mouth, "You are weird, Aidan. Why are you behaving like you really are my husband. Don't forget who you are."
A sarcastic smile played on his lips, and he stepped closer to me, each of his steps made my heart race against my chest, what was he doing?
He placed his hands on the table, cornering me, locking me in the prison of his body. He was too close. I almost fainted from the strong scent of his body, "You are too close…" I barely uttered those words. He tried to look into my eyes, but I lowered my face, because if I didn't our face would only be an inch away.
"Who am I?" His voice carried a strange pain, as if his anxiety was making it difficult for him to stand straight. A man who didn't remember me a few hours ago, he is asking me who he is to me? Isn't it obvious? He is a mere acquaintance. A stranger. An estranged crush.