5. The Kiss

SOFIA

From the moment Adrian walked into the apartment, I started to feel self conscious. Everything looked horrible, and the longer I stared, the worse it became.

There were empty pizza boxes all over, clothes strewn all over the couch and on the floor, empty soda cans lining the TV console, and a horrible stench which I hadn't noticed when I walked out earlier. I was extremely aware of how disgusting it all looked, and I imagined he would look at me like a disgusting pig who couldn't even take care of herself.

But if he thought that of me, then he didn't make it obvious. He simply led me to the couch, picked up the discarded hoodie and moved it, then told me to sit down.

"Where's the kitchen?" he asked.

"Down the hallway to your left," I replied, feeling woozy as my head spun a bit. He headed off, then came back with a glass of water and he stood over me until I finished it. He then rolled up his sleeves and went to work. He proceeded to pick up all the clothes, empty pizza boxes and cans of soda. He tidied up the entire living room, opened up the windows, vacuumed the rug and dusted the furniture. He worked with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times already, and I just sat there and watched him. I felt like a stranger in my own home, but something told me Adrian wouldn't even let me lift a single finger.

Once he'd finished and taken out the trash, he came back to the living room and asked, "Do you have any groceries?"

I wanted to lie and say I wasn't hungry, but my stomach betrayed me and growled at that exact moment. He nodded silently and made his way over to the kitchen, and I followed him as well to see. He grabbed some eggs from the fridge, some bread and some spinach I didn't even know was there. In a few minutes he'd whipped up some scrambled eggs, french toast and sautéed spinach. He made me sit down and eat it, while he tidied up the kitchen while humming to himself.

I didn't understand why anyone would do all this for a stranger. Rescuing me was one thing. But bringing me home, cleaning the apartment and making me dinner, none of that seemed normal.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, looking up at him while he washed his hands at the sink. He turned around slowly to look at me, tilting his head to the side.

"Huh?"

"I'm not saying I don't appreciate it," I said. "But I just don't understand why you would go the extra mile after rescuing me. You could have just sent me on my way after rescuing me."

"If I had done that, you would be back at that bridge ten minutes later," he said. "And don't even pretend otherwise."

He was right, I realized. Him being here was stopping me from doing anything stupid. After being alone for several weeks, it felt nice to have someone to talk to and actually interact with. I had no issues admitting that if he wasn't here, I would have probably done something else equally stupid.

"I don't want to leave you in your current state," he said. "You're in pain, and you need someone by your side. From the stack of unopened letters, I can tell that you have been isolating yourself from everyone. That's not a healthy thing to do."

"It's just so hard," I said, tears welling up in my eyes. "Everyone tells me they feel sorry for me, and they tell me I should move on and try to find something to keep my mind off things. But they don't realize what I'm going through. They don't know what it's like to see that devil's face every time I close my eyes. I just..."

My hands started to tremble as I talked, but he quickly made his way over to me and wrapped his arms around me. It was a normal hug, but it felt so warm and comforting that I broke down completely. Adrian just stood there and held me, and his silence was more comforting than I’d expected. His presence was just so calming and relaxing, and he held me like I was a precious egg that was about to crack.

“It’s alright, Sofia,” he said. “None of this is your fault.”

“It is,” I sobbed into his chest. “It’s all my fault. I should have told the cops something at least. I know what he looks like, and I know his name. I should have said something so he wouldn’t do this to anyone else. But I kept quiet because I was afraid. I’m a coward, and I was afraid that he would find me if I snitched.”

I pulled back to look at him, and there wasn’t even a hint of judgment in his eyes. He was just so calm about everything, and it seemed like that was his strategy for keeping me calm. Maybe by not saying anything and acting so calm and relaxed, he was indirectly making me feel calm and relaxed as well. I could already feel my anxiety dissipating, and I could breathe a little bit easier as he held me.

Maybe it was something in the way he looked at me. Maybe it was his cologne, and it was invading my senses and causing me to lose focus. Or maybe it was simply the fact that I hadn’t been this close to anyone in a very long time, and the fact that there was still a little bit of alcohol in my system. But having him so close, holding me exactly how I wanted to be held, it just did something to my head and I couldn’t think properly.

So I did the one thing I would never have done in a million years if I was thinking properly:

I leaned forward and kissed him.

He froze as our lips made contact, and it was a strange feeling as a sudden warmth came pouring over me. Suddenly, every inch of my body was on fire. His lips were tender and warm as he kissed me, his hands slowly coming up and cupping my cheeks. It was a burning sensation, filled with passion, desire and a desperate need to have him right then and there.

I could have sworn that time slowed down as he tilted my head back and deepened the kiss. It wasn’t rushed or demanding, but rather soft, steady, and impossibly gentle. It was like  he was afraid to break something fragile, and he somehow knew exactly what I needed in that moment. His hand brushed my cheek gently ,  with his fingertips barely grazing my skin, and I swear I forgot how to breathe. My eyes were tightly closed, and everything else faded until all I could feel was him.

There was a kind of peace and quiet in it, like a silent question he didn’t have to ask. And somehow, I answered every single question he asked without words. I leaned in just a little more, melting into the warmth of him. And in that silence, with our lips moving slowly and tenderly, I felt everything I hadn’t felt in such a long time. I felt safety, longing, and something dangerously close to desire.

But then, suddenly, he pulled away and growled like an animal in pain. My eyes flew open, and I was shocked by the pained expression in his eyes. He looked like he wanted to drive his fist through a wall or something, and he walked as far away from me as possible, as though being so close to me was causing him pain.

“This cannot be happening,” he growled. “Fuck!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I can’t do this,” he groaned, turning around and facing the wall. “I’m sorry.”

I was so confused that I just sat there and stared at him. My lips were still tingling from his kiss, and I couldn’t stop the fire that had sparked in my chest. It felt like something had finally been awakened after so long, and now I didn’t know how to stop it.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, turning to face me with a cold and distant look in his eyes. You’re clearly intoxicated, and I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that. I’m sorry.”

“Adrian, I kiss you,” I said. “And I’m not drunk.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “It’s never going to happen again.”

I felt so small and stupid the way he said it. I wanted to argue with him, to yell and bang my fists against his chest while I told him that I wanted to kiss him so my sorrow would disappear. I didn’t want to feel so alone anymore. I needed to feel something. And kissing him had made me feel something for the first time in weeks.

“Come on,” he said, taking my hand in his. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

I tried to protest, but he kept a firm grip on my wrist, and it was clear that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He walked me to my bedroom, where he ordered me to go into the shower and clean up. I paused at the door to glare at him before I did as he said, washing the sweat and grime off my face and body slowly. He sat by the door and waited for me, and a part of me knew that he still didn’t trust me to be by myself.

Kissing him was a stupid move. I shouldn’t have done it. But I was confused because he had reciprocated it. It was obvious that he wanted this too. So why did he pull away? Was there something I didn’t know? Was there something I hadn’t figured out yet about him? I felt like I was missing several pieces of the puzzle, and I didn’t even know where to find them.

By the time I came out of the bathroom, Adrian had laid out a pair of sweats and a large t-shirt on the bed. I was surprised by how he had picked out the perfect outfit to sleep in, but I knew better than to ask questions. He still looked like a wounded animal, and I was afraid that if I pushed, he was going to start yelling at me.

The last thing I needed was a stranger losing his mind in my apartment.

“What?” he asked suddenly, and I realized I’d been staring.

“I need to change,” I said.

“Go ahead,” he replied with a shrug.

“I’m not changing in front of you,” I said. “You can stay outside.”

His lips twitched slightly, and my eyes were immediately drawn to them. I shook my head and turned away from him as he walked out of the room, and I quickly changed into the clothes he’d laid out for me. He walked in as soon as I finished, and he glanced at his watch.

“Are you staying over?” I asked.

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

He sat in the chair beside the bed, and as I got under the duvet, I thought back on how crazy today had turned out. Here I was, lying in bed with a stranger who was treating me like a little girl, only a few hours after I’d nearly done something stupid. It all seemed so surreal, and as he reached out and smoothed the hair out of my face, I wondered if this was fate or destiny at work. I didn’t believe in stuff like that, but maybe some sort of higher power had driven Adrian to stand on that bridge tonight. Maybe he was always meant to save me, because there was something I was meant to do.

But what could it be?

He’d told me to find something to live for. But what exactly was there to live for? Marco had taken everything from me. I couldn’t think of anything that I would want to stay alive for.

Except maybe to watch him die.

The thought came to me so suddenly that I nearly jumped out of bed. But I remained under the sheets, a sudden and overwhelming desire for revenge washing over me as I saw his face in my mind. Surely that was enough reason to stay alive, just to make sure that he paid for his sins.

Revenge. That was the answer. I was going to live for revenge.