Take The Night Away

He was standing in front of a picture, studying it carefully. In general, it was some kind of explosion. He was sure of that. Its epicenter was pitch black, then, cascading from it were small pieces of shattered glass, mixed with thousands of other different objects. Flowers, books, lips, some dots and spangles, stars and sunsets, splashes of red here and there. Even a little house and a black cat in the corner.  From the first sight it looked like a huge funnel and under further examination you would be able to pick out all these items.

―Care to explain? - he looked at the girl next to him. Maybe she was the art student or something.

―Everyone sees it differently, - she said, knowingly.

―Well, how do you see it?

She shifted her gaze back to the picture.

―Blackness in the center,- she began, furrowing a little,- resembles the remnants of a broken heart, which turned into a black hole of some kind, sucking in all the memories and plans the lovers had, turning them into nothing.

―That’s how I see it, - she added cheerfully.

Miles cleared his throat looking at her. She definitely has to do something with visual arts.

Before he could say anything, someone called her and the girl left, smiling at him apologetically.

―You got to talk with the painter, - said Phil approaching him with two glasses of champagne in hands.

―She is the artist? - Miles looked at him disbelievingly. Phil nodded.

Well, that kinda explains her awareness about the meaning of the picture.

- It's called "Her Favorite Nightmare", - he said in a matter of fact tone, when he saw that girl, the author of all this now, approaching him. He couldn’t figure out why the portrait of some red-haired guy could be someone’s nightmare.

- That's what the badge says. So, yeah, - her voice was light and playful.

- Reminds me of something...- his voice trailed off and soon was muffled by the chatter around them.

- Yeah, I know what you mean, - sly smile found its way into her face. - Arctic Monkeys album. Good record, actually.

Upon saying this, she seemed to forget about the man by her side, zooning out into her own world. Miles eyed her with a curious squint.

- Do you like them? - she asked suddenly, turning her head to him and meeting his dark eyes.

Miles blinked at her, shaking his head lightly. He hasn't heard from the one and only front man of a so not subtly mentioned band for three months. It was reflecting on his nerves and mood accordingly.

- Yeah...- he snapped out of his daze. - Yeah, they're quite awesome.

Miles averted his gaze back to the picture, giving her a perfect opportunity to study him. He pretended not to notice it.

―This is really good. All of these, - he vaguely gestured at the walls around them.

She shrugged.

―I wouldn’t be so general about it. Some of it, yeah.

―A bit of self-criticism never hurt, - he assumed.

―Definitely.

She wasn’t flirting with him. Miles could recognize flirt, he sees it a lot. Maybe, she doesn’t know who he is?

Sounds appealing.

Some boy came rushing to her, mumbling something about Bred being late.

―Okay, - she sighed and turned to Miles.

―It was a pleasant chat…- she began.

―Miles, - he extended his right hand.

―Miles, - she repeated, shaking his hand. Her grip was firm and her fingers were cold. ―I’m Emily.

―Nice to meet you, - he said, smiling.

‘It could be the beginning of something interesting’,- he thought, watching her leave.

***

Soon after their third so-called date, she learned that he wasn't the owner of a music shop back in Wirral. But she couldn't blame him for lying. In her eyes, it was an attempt to hide. So she could respect that. And after all, he sells music. Who cares if it's his own?

- True romance is what I'm after darling, - she sang imitating his voice after opening the door that evening.

He stared at her, wide eyed, for a couple of seconds, before hanging his head with a tired sigh.

- I guess it had to happen sometime.

He had a bouquet of some red flowers with him. Delightful smile spread across her face.

- Is it for me? - she holds a hand to her chest in exaggerated amusement.

- Um...Yeah, - he gave her a puzzled look.

- Sweet, - she smiled at him briefly, then grabbed the bouquet and retired into the flat without so much as a "Don't stand there all day" directed at him. Miles furrowed a little, trying to find some logic in her actions and failed. But he likes the way she occupies his mind, her jokes and irrational antics. That's why he keeps coming.

He closed the door and took off his shoes. Her flat smelled like oil paint, dried fruits and clean clothes. Not many things have changed since he's been here last time.

- What brought you here? - he followed her soft voice into a small but fancy kitchen. She was perched up on the counter, her thin legs dangling from it. A vase with flowers was already placed to her left.

- We haven't met in like...- she cringed while calculating the amount of time he hasn't showed up, - in a year and half?

- Yeah, something like that, - he shrugged meekly, leaning into the wall.

- Shit! And I haven't even gave you a proper hug! - she shook her head disapprovingly.

- You could always make up for it later and give me a proper orgasm.

She laughed lightheartedly.

- I was hoping for it, actually.

No uneasiness or awkward questions. Maybe she could see what he feels. Like she did the first time. See that he's still broken and missing that one person who could've fix him.

- I haven't googled you if you're worried about it, - she said after a few moments of them studying each other, taking in the visible changes.

- Why? - he looked genuinely surprised, stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets.

She hopped off the counter, slowly approaching him.

- 'Cause I've met you in person and I want to keep knowing you in person, - she grabbed the collar of his leather jacket, bringing her face to his and breathing in his scent. - Not as some fame trashed celebrity, who wears designed clothes and falls over pretty boys.

- You said you haven't googled, - his hands stopped, holding her waist.

- It's just general assumptions, - she said despite that knowing look in her eyes. - Am I right then?

- About designed clothes thing, - he smiled lightly, placing his hand on the small of her back and pulling her closer. - What's wrong with it though?

- Nothing, - her face was few inches away from his. -As long as I can take it off you, - she said, sliding the jacket off his shoulders carefully.


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