Chapter 43 - Simple

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(From Leandro's Perspective)

I stood up from the pool and went to my study room so she could change. I was a bit relieved to see her getting back to her previous self, but there was something about her that was not quite right.

She had whispered to save her. She called out my name. It was like she was having a nightmare, just like the other night. But she did not for once mention it. It was like she was hiding something, something so dark and awful that she did not want to think about it, yet it always came back to her.

I had held her all this time so she could calm down. I did not want to see the broken Ella. I wanted the brave chaotic girl back just like the way she was supposed to be. The thought surprised me. The way I changed for the girl, how much I wanted to hear her talking endlessly, how much I wanted her made me think if I was doing the right thing.

She would not betray me, I knew that. I would never believe so even if someone told me. She had made sure that I trusted her fully and I did not regret it at all. She had no idea how much she was helping me by both her actions and words, precisely saying merely just being with me.

Knowing that that boy was gay and they did not see each other more than friends made me relieved. I had no idea why I felt so strongly towards her. It was like she was the strongest magnet in this world that was pulling my metal heart towards her.

Even though Ella was behaving as if she was fine, I knew that deep down, she was not okay. She was still suffering, but she did not want to show it to me or to her own self either.

"Are you done, El?" I asked, knocking on the bathroom door.

"One minute," she said back from inside the bathroom.

I went to the bedroom and opened the closet. I took her t-shirt out. It was very large for her body that it reached up to her knee. But she looked very adorable in it.

I took one of her panties as well, matching the color of the t-shirt. She was going to need it. I got the urge to smell it, to bring it as close to my face as possible. But in the end, I forced myself to stop. It was going to be even harder to control myself.

I stood in front of the bathroom, waiting for her to come out. "Um_ Leandro?" she mumbled, opening the door slightly. She was hiding behind the door, with only her face peeking out through the gap.

"Here," I said, handing her the clothes.

She looked surprised, but then nodded and closed the door. After two minutes, she came out, wearing that t-shirt, her brown hair damp but clutched up in a bun, which I was sure she did because of getting frustrated by her hair.

"Are you okay now?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I want to go to bed and you'll come with me," she said.

She did not get embarrassed or show any sign of shyness that I brought her panty. It was surprising. Then it came to my mind. She liked talking about everything without getting embarrassed. Perhaps that was how she was. She could take things simply, the kind of personality that almost everyone lacked.

"No, I have some letters to write."

"To whom? Your girlfriend? Future wife? New ally? New informer? New spy? Your stepfather? Stepmother? Stepbrother? Stepsister? New friend?"

I did not say anything but just glanced at her, to see how she was reacting. Why was she like this? But at least, she had become her older self again.

"So is it your love interest? Are you going to write to her? Will you show me what you write?"

"Alright, I'll show you."

"What? You're really writing to your love interest?"

"Yes."

"Well, sorry for disturbing you. I'll just sleep," she grumbled. Her face suddenly darkened and her eyes clouded. It seemed like she was going back to how she was a while ago.

She left for the bedroom and hopped on the bed. She wrapped herself in the quilt and buried her face in her hands as if she was trying to breathe. I should not have teased her, at least not at this moment.

I quickly went to the bedroom and changed into my shorts. She did not notice me. I climbed on the bed and got under the quilt.

I pulled her closer to me by her waist. She was stunned. She tried to look at me, but I did not let her, rather I placed my face on the crook of her neck and stayed like that as she took sharp breaths in.

"What are you doing?" she asked shakily.

"Sleeping."

"You're not... you're..."

"I'm not kissing, Ella. I'm just holding you and that's all. We work together, right? This shouldn't matter that much. And it's not like it was in the deal that I can't hug you or hold you."

"Won't you write your letter?"

"To whom?"

"To whom?" she repeated. "You said you're writing a letter to your love interest."

"As if I need to write to my love interest," I mumbled. "And I don't really have a love interest."

"That's good," she said.

"Why is it good?" I asked.

She seemed uncomfortable. Her legs moved and touched my legs. She shivered in my hold like a little dove in cold.

"Did I tell you that I met your brother?" she asked, desperate to change the subject.

"You told me a bit," I replied. I decided not to make her too uncomfortable. She might get upset again. Perhaps I would tease her later when she would come back to her previous self fully.

"Well, your brother is not as tall as you, he is not short either though. He is athletic build too, but I think you're better. I mean, you're the best. He has blue eyes, kind of like the color of water when you add blue dirt in it. But I like your eyes more. They are dark brown, almost black. But of course, black eyes are not possible. There is a scientific explanation for that as well. Anyway, as you guys don't really care about science, I won't say it. What was I saying? Oh, your brother. Then he has blond hair, like your father. But you've black, raven black. Is it like your mother? It's cool, you know. I never knew black hair could be this gorgeous. God, I'm so jealous of you. Your hair is better than mine. It's silky and perfect. Did you see mine? It's rough. Horrible! And your brother's nose wrinkles a lot, kind of like Owen's. Do you remember Owen? I told you about him. He is Mom's boyfriend. I don't like him, he doesn't like me either. So that settles. Do you know I once heard Mom telling her friend that he likes Owen's smile? Jesus, Lord, I almost had a heart attack at that moment! Owen looks like a sick turkey when he smiles. Even turkeys are better looking than him. Do you guys have turkeys here? Have you seen a turkey? Have you eaten it?"

I smiled, looking at her as she was spitting out words like a tornado, looking here and there every now and then. She was getting back to her previous self. I stroked her hair, but she did not seem to care. She kept talking without stopping to take a breath.

"Your brother looks like a sea horse."

"I know what my brother looks like, Ella. Did you have to tell me this again?"

"Well, you knew from your perspective, but not from my perspective. It's important for you to know so."

"Why?"

"Because I want to tell you," she said.

"Why are you comparing my looks to him, El?"

"Because I like to. Oh come on, I'm proud to be with you. You're handsome and he is a sea horse. I have the most handsome co-worker. Of course, I should be proud," she said grinning broadly.

I could not believe what she was saying. Why was she taking everything so simply? Did she have no idea what her words were doing to me? Did she not know that she was making me lose control as a minute passed?

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