Snippet July 2021 - Silence
Alya’s first words to Luka did not endear her to him. He didn’t like being reminded of his akumatized mistakes--he doubted that anyone did--so he greeted her with raised brows, and yes, stony silence. He sat on his bed, peering at her with an expression he knew was sour.
She blinked at him, shuffling on her feet in his mother’s houseboat. “Okay, um… I’m waiting for my friends, so… Is your sister around?”
“No.” Luka twanged a chord on his guitar, feeling inexplicably disappointed that Alya would ask for his sister. “You don’t need to be nervous. I won’t bite.”
Alya smirked. “Unless I ask you to?”
She had the unmitigated gall to laugh at him. “Sorry.” Pointing at the guitar, Alya beamed. “You don’t need to fret. I’ll leave you alone.”
Luka was stunned. She’d gone from a shrinking violet to a cougar--would she still be a cougar since he was older than her?--and then transitioned to a pun-cracking daredevil faster than he could blink. And definitely faster than he could process.
Alya turned to leave, but he released his guitar, holding his hand out. “Wait.”
Alya stopped, glancing over her shoulder. “Yeah, Luka?”
At her curling her tongue around his name, Luka’s cheeks exploded with heat. He had no idea why he was having such a reaction to this girl, but he couldn’t deny that she had an effect on him.
A startling effect, one which he couldn’t decide on whether it was welcome or not.
Luka stared resolutely at his shoes, his cheeks flaring with warmth. “You don’t… have to go.”
He watched Alya turn towards him out of the corners of his eyes, but he was stunned when she bent over to peer directly into his face. “Hey. You okay?”
Luka swallowed hard. “Uh. Yeah. I’m just really bad... with words?”
Alya smiled up at him. “You prefer silence?”
“Not really, no.” Luka’s fingers slid into their familiar positions on his guitar. He played one of his original melodies, a song about unrequited love. “I prefer music.”
Alya placed her hands on her knees to better balance herself and nodded. “Yeah, me, too.”
Luka raised his head. “You play?”
“Nah.” Alya straightened, placing a hand on her hip. “But I love listening. And I love dancing, too.”
The request was out of his mouth before Luka knew what he was saying. The burning in his cheeks crept up to his ears and down his neck, balling up in his throat. “Uh, no! Sorry, I’m just--I’m an idiot; you don’t have to dance for me--what was I thinking?”
Rather than whirling away from him in disgust like he expected, Alya laughed. “Easy, tiger.” The term of endearment made Luka’s hands slip on his fretboard. He gripped it tighter instead. “Sure. I can dance for you.”
Alya took off her purse and set it aside on his nightstand, leaning over him. He caught the scent of honeysuckle... something, possibly a lotion or a shampoo, and breathed deep.
“Um. Thanks.” Luka bit his lip. “What should I play?”
“Nothing slow.” Alya winked at him, backing up to give herself more space in the middle of the room. “Jagged Stone.”
Luka obeyed, playing the hardest song Jagged had released. Luka’s fingers flew over the strings, teasing the music out by heart. And it was a good thing he’d memorized the song, because he was mesmerized by the girl in front of him.
Alya had started out slow, moving her hips as if she were hula hooping in slow motion. The movements were fluid and seemed easy; she was utterly confident and comfortable in her skin.
When Luka’s song sped up, she followed suit, raising her arms above her head. Alya spun, combing her hands through her hair and sweeping them down her body. She shook her hips, turning in a slow pirouette. She moved as if she weren’t aware of anything but her dancing, the music seeming to sweep her away.
She struck a pose on the last note, throwing her head back and placing a hand on her forehead while resting the other on her heart. By the time Luka’s fingers rested, his hands were trembling. Alya was panting, and both their faces were sweaty.
Luka needed air. He sucked down precious oxygen, unable to breathe deeply enough to keep from vibrating with nascent vertigo. He knew he had to comment on her dance. He had to say something, anything. Even thanking her would do.
But Luka was bad with words; his thoughts dried up on his tongue before he could give them a proper shape.
Alya was squinting at him, her face expectant.
“Wow,” he finally choked out, his face once again resuming the inferno from before. “Just… Wow.”
Alya nodded, seeming to accept that critique of her dance. “You’re welcome.”
“T-Thank you.” Luka ran a hand through his hair and pressed his knuckles to his mouth. “So, uh, your friends will be here soon, I’m sure. A-And my sister, too. But… until then, maybe we could get a drink?”
Alya crossed to him. He leaned back, wide-eyed and completely unsure about what she was planning to do.
But all she did was retrieve her purse. “I’d like that.” Alya smiled sweetly. “That was a workout.”
Luka knew then that his attraction--which had hit him like a truck, hard and fast and completely without warning--was totally one-sided.
Which was all to the good. He knew he couldn’t handle a girl like Alya.
“Sure.” Luka gulped, still trying to breathe. “Let me get you that drink.”
