Olive's P.O.V.
After talking with Joe for most of the afternoon. I decided to head to the bookstore. The one, that according to Joe, dad's girlfriend works at. He told me her name and described her in Joe terms.
"Blank skin, very plain. She's got a long neck that could use some free birds. Dark hair, and a round face that screams innocence. She's young too." He told me.
So now here I am, stepping inside some book shop to spy on dad's girlfriend. I wonder if she even knows about me? Has she seen any pictures of me. There was only one that hung on our walls. Any that had mom in them had been burned away when I turned 12, leaving just one hanging frame of me when I was a baby, sporting a big toothless grin. I don't think she'd be able to recognize me from that picture, even if she had seen it.
I grabbed a book off a display table, flipping it and looking interested in it as I eyed the dark haired woman behind the counter. Her name was Daisy according the name tag. She had a round face, a long neck and dark hair. So it's gotta be her right? I continued to walk around the store, looking at her through the shelves or past books. I hid in an aisle with my head peeking out to watch her. She would rub the small bump on her stomach every now and again, letting me know she was pregnant.
This must be her.
Joe wasn't kidding, she looked young. Probably around my age. That's so fucking gross.
Why would she be with dad?
I forgot to pay attention to my surroundings as I watched her closely. I was looking to see if she had any marks on her. My eyes were trained at the hem of her sleeves to see if any bruises would show when they moved. She didn't seem to wince or act like she was in pain. For now, she seems safe, and so does my little sibling.
"Red?" His voice sent a chill down my spine. It was a voice I had dreamt of countless times, only it was deeper, raspier with age. I gripped the edge of the shelf in front of me, trying to keep myself from turning immediately. I swallowed down the emotions that were building up inside me. "Is that you, Red?"
What is he doing here?
I turned slowly, meeting those blue eyes I had once fallen in love with. He'd grown more, but he wasn't as tall as my knight. His hair was still that golden blonde, but he styled it differently. It was long at the top falling towards his ears in a purposeful mess. It seems, like wine, he had only gotten finer with age. His eyes met mine, and I almost lost my grip on my self control.
"Ian?" I finally spoke.
"So that is you!" He smiled more widely now, making my heart race the way it used to for him. "You've changed, Red. You look great!" He added, only making me blush.
"You too," I said awkwardly.
He stepped closer, invading my personal bubble, for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me. I panicked, almost punching him before I realized he was going past me. He peered his head around the aisle curiously.
"What are we looking at?" He asked me as he scanned the place. I'd forgotten how carefree he was. I grabbed the back of his loose jacket, pulling him into the aisle again before he was spotted.
"You're going to get me caught," I lightly scolded him in a hushed voice.
"Ooo, who are we spying on?" He gave me that playful smirk of his. The one that let me know he was ready for mischief and gossip.
"That's none of your business." I brushed him off. As much as I have missed him, he's the one that chose to end our friendship when he didn't reply.
"Oh, come one, Red. Pretty please?" He gave me the same smile he used to give me in high school. His pretty please smile, I called it.
"That's not going to work anymore. I've grown, Ian."
I started to walk away only to be met by dad's figure approaching the store, blocking my only exit.
"Shit," I muttered under my breath, causing Ian to lean over me again to see what I was looking at.
I felt the warmth from his chest radiating off him against my back. His shirt lightly grazed my own. Before I knew it, he was pulling me back into the aisle. He took his jacket off and placed it on me, pulling the hood up to cover my hair. I placed my arms in the sleeves, only because I needed the jacket to hide.
I pushed all the red under the hood and tightened the strings. Ian leaned forward again, closing the space between us. My heart was racing against my chest. His sweet eyes held mine for a moment before he put a book in front of it. He handed me a thick book, having me cover my face with it. His hand stayed leaning against the shelf over me, covering me from the main aisle.
A few minutes passed, and neither of us moved. I kept my eyes on the book he had handed me. I was actually reading it, trying to distract myself form Ian's close proximity. It was about how to forgive those that have wronged you. I have a hard time with that one. I tend to just drop them from my life and pretend they don't exist.
Seems healthy enough to me.
"I see who you were spying on now." His voice tickled my ear as he whispered in it. "He brought her food."
I sighed, finally looking into his eyes again. Damn him, damn those eyes, and damn these emotions that are wanting to confuse the hell out of me.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Bull. You totally want to talk about it. I can see it ready to burst from those lips."
"I don't want to talk about it with you. Is he gone now?" I asked him, moving away as best I could.
"He's gone." He nodded with a sad smile.
"Thanks for your help," I said, taking his jacket off and handing it back. "Goodbye, Ian."
I started to walk off, only to be grabbed by the wrist and pulled into his chest. He held me tightly in that warm embrace he'd give me when he knew I was going through something rough at home. His familiar scent enticed my mind and my heart. A sweet nostalgia gripped my heart tightly.
"I swore if I saw you again I wouldn't let you go. Why didn't you write to me, Red?"
My heart squeezed, feeling like it would pop soon. I pushed away from his chest, only to be gripped more tightly.
"Why didn't I write to you? Why didn't you reply? I wrote to you. I wrote to you many times actually, and every day I would check the mail and there would be nothing. It was maddening, and eventually I just gave up, snuffing out the last ray of hope in my life." I pushed him hard, making his grip loosen enough for me to see his face.
"I never got one, Red. I checked every day too. I wrote to you as well, only they'd always come back, return to sender. They were left unopened." He looked at me tenderly. He didn't sound like he was lying, but it was hard to believe.
"That doesn't make sense. I never saw your letters, not once." I shook my head, furrowing my brow as I thought.
"I'll show you, Red. I kept them all." He relinqushed me from his embrace only to take my hand and rush me out of the book store.
"Ian, hold on," I said lightly. He was so determined that he didn't hear me. He continued to drag me down the street amongst the historical red bricks of almost every building. "Ian!" I said his name loudly this time. He stopped immediately, turning to face me.
"Red, please. You don't understand." He shook his head.
"You don't understand." I told him as I ran towards the nearest trash can and puked my guts out. All these surprises had turned my stomach sour again.
I felt a large warm hand rub my back as I puked. It was comforting. It seems it didn't matter how much time had passed. Ian will always be Ian, and my heart will always hold a bittersweet feeling towards him.
"Are you okay now?" He asked me when I finished throwing up.
"As good as I can be." I wiped at my mouth with the back of my sleeve.
"Where are you staying? I'll drive you there."
"I'm at the Water Street Inn, but I can get there just fine on my own," I told him, standing straight to try to appear better than I felt at the moment.
"Alright, I'm going to grab those letters from home. I'll see you there, Red." He ran off, knowing I was going to argue.
"Ian no!" I yelled after him, seeing him stick his fingers in his ear to pretend like he couldn't hear me. He's still so annoyingly playful.
What's he doing here anyway?