Dark Secrets (30 page)

“
So?”

He shut the engine
off, the sudden quiet making my ears ring. “My dark
world.”

“
Oh.” I looked to the
front, folding my arms, and left it at that.

David glided along
beside me, the guitar slung over his shoulder like a one-strapped
backpack, and the picnic basket in hand. The sun filtered down
through the tops of the trees in hazy lines of pale yellow and
white, highlighting the golden tones in his hair. I just wanted to
stop walking right then and run my fingers through it. But I wasn’t
sure our relationship was quite on the unguarded-impulse-control
level yet.

When we came out to
the clearing by the lake, the familiar lemony spice of wet bark and
the heavy clay scent of decomposing leaves awakened my senses. A
spectacular rainbow of nature greeted us, and I lost myself in the
awe of this secret place. With the autumn hovering on the horizon
of the approaching months, the deciduous evergreens surrounding the
lake began to turn a hundred different colours. An illustration of
mottled pinks, yellows and reds emulated off the lake’s reflection,
and dust motes settled on the water around the moss—giving it an
almost snow-like aspect. Across the lake, at the centre of the
tranquil masterpiece, several flocks of colourful birds disappeared
into the dense greenery of the island.

“
This place is so
amazing, David.” And my mood just lifted like an elevator up the
Empire State building.

David’s hands circled
my waist. He tucked his chin against the curve of my neck and
squeezed my ribs. “I can think of something more
amazing.”

Aw, how sweet.
I smiled, resting my elbows over his. “I like
that—the feel of you against me that way.”

David pulled away, but
stole my hand as he did, turning me to face him. “Come on, let’s
sit down.” He swept his arm outward, presenting a small square
patch of grass, flattened by the rug—picnic basket centred, and his
iPhone setting the scene with some soft music.

“
How did you set that
up so fast?” I looked back at David, my eyes quickly darting from
where he’d been standing beside me, to the rug, where he laid with
his ankles crossed and the cheekiest grin warming his eyes. “I’m
sure you’re not human.”

He laughed loudly. “I
think you’re the one who’s not human, Ara. I’ve become accustomed
to your trips outside your own head now. I set this up while you
were lost in thought.”

“
I should get that
looked at.” I wandered over and sat down in front of him. “Hey, are
you getting sick?”

“
Ouch.” David jumped
back a little when I touched the purple indent under his eye.
“You’re freezing,” he said.

“
Sorry. I always
forget that.”

He cupped my hands,
changing their temperature with the warmth of his
breath.

“
That feels nice,” I
said, watching him.

“
Did you know—” He
closed his hands a little tighter around mine and pressed his nose
against my fingers, drawing a deep breath, “—you smell like a
freshly baked cake?”

“
Yeah.” I gently
pulled my hands away, rubbing the moisture from his breath into my
skin. “That’s just my body wash.”

“
No.” He shook his
head, looking up at me. “It’s just you.”

I needed a subject
change before those green eyes of his, all kind and smiling, made
me lean forward and kiss him. “What’s this song? It has the most
heartbreaking melody.”

“
It’s called
Overcome.” David looked down at his hands. “The one I said I’d play
to you.”

The words of the song
danced around in my head, lilting softly over the wistful tide of
the piano, while David stared into the tree line, his mind a
million miles away. I watched his soft, angel-like face for just
long enough to see that he was more beautiful than I’d really
noticed before. He was always lovely, but with his eyes lost in the
splendour of the colourful surroundings, focused and totally
unaware that I was staring, I could suddenly see just how out of my
league he really was. His features were almost symmetrical, even
down to the width of his mouth on both sides and the sharp,
heart-shaped curve of his upper lip. There was this undeniable
allure about him—something—maybe an energy that just drew me in,
making me want to close my eyes and fall against him.

It was too late for
me. I’d never be able to go back. Never be able to live without
him. ‘Overcome’ was very suitable for how I felt about this
boy.

David looked up from
his reverie and frowned at my face.

I wiped away my pout,
forcing a look of composure, though inside, my heart was breaking.
I wondered how I could possibly ever be good enough for
him.

“
Do
you know why they say
love is
blind
?” he asked out of the
blue.

“
Um…” Okay, that was
a strange question. “Because…you can’t see straight when you’re in
love?”

He shook his head.
“It’s because you don’t need to see to fall in love. It’s purely
chemical. You can fall in love with someone before you’ve spoken
one word to them, and they don’t have to be perfect, Ara, just
perfect for you.”

“
What if you’re not
from the same species—can you be perfect for each other
then?”

“
Ara—” he sat up a
little. “What do you mean?”

“
I mean.” I toyed
with the hem of my dress. “You’re…perfect, and I’m…”

He sat back, exhaling
through his smile. “That’s what you meant.”

“
What did you think I
meant?”

“
Nothing.” He reached
across and took my hand. “Ara. I don’t know where you get this
silly idea that we’re not right for each other, but—”

“
I never said
that.”

“
No, you said you’re
not good enough for me.”

I looked down at my
pale white fingers wrapped around his golden skin.

“
I’ve never loved
anyone like this before. Ever. What do you think that means for me,
Ara?”

I shrugged, not
meeting his eyes, though I could feel them on me.

“
You are more than good enough for me—from personality to
spirit and all the way to superficial and unimportant qualities.”
He laughed. “I mean, you’re the single most
beautiful
thing I’ve ever laid eyes
on and, believe me, Ara-Rose, I have seen a
lot
of girls.”

One shoulder came up
to my jaw. “I guess I just don’t see what you see.”

“
Then I’m happy to
keep saying it until you do.” He touched the backs of his fingers
to my cheek. “Just relax into this, okay? We’re together—I’m not
going anywhere. Not ever.”

“
Promise?”

He looked at me for a
long moment. “Yeah. But only if you promise to look in the mirror
every day and tell yourself you’re beautiful.”

“
Okay.” I smirked. “I
will.”

“
Good. Hungry?” He
jumped up with a movement as light and fluid as a man on the
moon.

“
Um, yeah, I am,
actually.” I hadn’t even noticed it, but my stomach felt like a
hollow pit. It might’ve even growled at one point, but I’d been too
lost in David’s flawless face to notice. I could’ve starved to
death and probably wouldn’t have cared.

“
Here.” He handed me
a small bunch of grapes and sat across from me, grabbing my
guitar.

“
Thanks.”

I picked at the plump,
round fruit, while David plucked the strings; the squared tips of
his fingers finding the notes so effortlessly, as if he knew every
one like his own flesh.

“
Do you realise,” I
said with my mouth full, “that I’ve never actually heard you play
guitar?”

“
Yes.” He smiled,
keeping his head down, twisting the pegs atop the neck. After a
strum and a nod of satisfaction, he started playing.

My eyes tried to close
again as the sound touched my heart, but I forced myself to open
them and watch the phenomenon that was David’s every note. In
comparison to him, my musical ability was substandard, clumsy even.
I hated that. “You make me feel like an amateur.”

“
Well, I’ve been playing for a
very
long time.” His laughter
sounded like a release of tension, and as I sat back, watching the
midday sun beam across his neck, he stopped
playing.

“
What are you
doing?”

He shuffled over and
picked a grape off the bunch, then popped it in his mouth, chewing
thoughtfully. “I wanna play you a song.”

“
Okay.” I dumped the
grapes back in the basket, readjusting my seat. “Do I know
it?”

“
You might. It’s by
Muse.” He propped his left leg up, resting his forearm on his knee,
and strummed the guitar. “It’s called Unintended.”

I picked through my
music brain, but didn’t recognise the melody at all.

With each chord
change, my mind began to wander, the wind-chime notes carrying me
to another place—a dream-like world where emotions were displayed
in melody. This one, with its harmony balancing on the edge of
sadness, would be the song of a night sky that fell in love with
the sun—forever forbidden to be together, watching over a world
that would end if one didn’t exist.

David looked at me,
and as he sung, the notes starting low and rolling up through the
scale, his lips curved into that sexy smile. He tried to hold it
back, but it crept onto his face anyway. And I closed my eyes,
feeling a tight pull, like the blood in my brain suddenly gained
ten pounds, filling my skull, David’s perfect voice surrounding my
thoughts. He made me want to cry—to be a part of him, part of his
voice—and though I couldn’t see anything but the golden light
turning my eyelids red underneath, I could feel the colour of the
lake around me; an image carved out in melody.

As the song came to an
end, the last notes hovered in my subconscious for a moment. I
wiped a fingertip under my eye.

“
Ara? You’re crying.”
Sudden warmth spread through my cheek, the bright red glow behind
my eyelids becoming shadowed as David’s hot, sun-kissed fingers
touched my face, pressing it against his heart.

“
I’m sorry, David,
it’s just that—” I pulled away and wiped my face with both hands,
“—music is something that comes from a really deep place in me. I
feel things so much, so completely, and that song?” I leaned back
and looked into his emerald eyes. “It was so beautiful.”

“
It reminds me of
you—of us.”

“
Why?”

“
Don’t you see how
much I’m in love with you?” He grabbed my face, his gaze
penetrating my watery barrier, making my heart forget how to beat.
“Don’t you get it? Forever doesn’t have to be a curse for me. Not
anymore—not now that I have you.”

Motionless,
breathless, with the only connection to the real world being the
burning sun above, my mind fought for reason. “But we don’t get to
live forever.”

“
What if we did? What
if you could have an eternity with me?” His thumbs pressed into my
cheeks a little firmer. “Would you take it?”

I nodded. “If
eternity were real—I’d give my
soul
to spend it with you.”

“
Ara?” He squeezed my
face. “Open your eyes. Look at me and say that.”

The sun brought
momentary blindness with its bright glare as I looked at David. “I
didn’t know they were closed.”

He studied me
carefully, his brow tight in the middle.

“
What did you want me
to say?” I asked.

Nearby, bee’s buzzed
with a gentle hum and a few birds chattered noisily in the treetops
above us, and David’s round eyes stared, glassy and distant, his
lips sitting parted—no words coming out.

“
David?”

“
Nothing.” He dropped
his hands, shifting away from me, weighted like the
dead.

A cool breath lifted
my chest in a long, slow gasp, and a strange pull of energy—or
maybe warmth—detached from the physical space between us, like hot
ribbons had bound us, and now, snapped and tore away.

A spell had been
broken.

The cold breath rushed
out of my lungs too quickly, tightening my throat. I touched my
fingertips to the racing pulse between my collarbones. “David? I
feel dizzy.”

“
It’s okay.” He
rolled me onto his lap, brushing my hair from my face.

“
What just happened?
I feel so sick.” I snuggled my brow against his denim jeans,
closing my eyes around the icy torrent of blood draining all the
warmth from my cheeks.

“
Come on.” David
patted my back and lifted me to sit. “You need to eat. You get
dizzy when you’re hungry.”

I forced a smile.
“True.” But that was different, I was sure of it. That felt more
like my soul had been connected to his for a split second. I felt
so drawn to him, like I could’ve stayed there forever—died in his
arms and have been grateful for that one, close moment. Now it was
gone—that warmth, the breathtaking intensity of our bodies so close
to each other—I wanted it back. I felt like it belonged to
me.