He looks like he might close the space between us. He looks like he wants to.
My brain supplies a dozen sane exits. My body refuses every one.
He looks as if he might kiss me.
So I do something- exactly the kind of crazy I'm proud of but later I reg...
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She's safe here now.
In my house.
I gave her my clothes, a hoodie and shorts, cooked her dinner, set the guest room bed for her.
She's safe here now.
With me.
I was just dropping by her studio, as I knew today would be the last day of her 2 week long break, and she'd still go. Cause Ballet brings her peace, and watching her gives me peace.
I like knowing about, Amara Fontaine.
I didn't go in and didn't interrupt. I just waited outside, like an idiot with roses in my hand.
I didn't have an excuse this time. No bakery run. No "just passing by." No kids asking or missing her.
But when it comes to her, I don't need one- there is no excuse needed.
Its just her.
And those roses, they reminded me of her.
Reminded me of the shade of her lips.
It didn't remind me of them in some casual way or just noticing way.
But In the way someone remember exactly what something looks like when they've been too close.
When you've had it right in front of you. When you've thought about it since.
Ever since the photoshoot I couldn't stop thinking about her.
And then she explained how to do the kiss, I messed up and I am not even complaining.
Our lips touched even if it was for a second or two.
Amara said not to involve the cops in this as she doesn't trust them- neither do I.
They ask the wrong questions, waste time with protocol, make you fill out forms while the threat walks free. Half the time, they act like you're the problem.
But still I did
For her.
I called it in.
Like I expected, they said they'd "send someone to assess."
When the officer showed up, he was more interested in interrogating than investigating.
"Are you sure the door was locked?" "Could it have been someone you know?" "Any signs of forced entry?" "So... it could've been nothing?"
Nothing?
She came home to drawers pulled open. Cabinets left half-closed. A family photo cracked across the floor.
You call that nothing?
They left after twenty minutes with a shrug and a stupid little pamphlet about home security.
