MARIA'S HOUSE WAS decorated in various tinges of warmth and earth. Evan and I were seated on barstools the shade of wood, the countertop—which was filled with desserts—a cream-coloured contrast. The shelves were sitting atop electrical appliances, and the fridge had magnets with pictures stuck underneath, none of which I could make out from where I sat.

There were at least five different types of cupcakes in front of us. I could see her chop some garlic to sauté. The kitchen was filled with mouth-watering smell of food, and acknowledging I felt overwhelmed would've been an understatement.

I picked a chocolate cupcake and took a bite, the perfect sweetness mingling with the cold layer of whipped cream on my tongue.

If Evan would've let me in on this spontaneous trip, I might've shown less tantrums on our way here.

But it was him we were talking about.

Of course he'd had to do it in a way which involved bizarre and sickeningly inane confessions as the sky poured down.

Thankfully, we hadn't gotten soaked. Whatever moisture hanging on our clothes had dried after spending some time in his Aunt's forest-clad sanctuary (alternatively read: her house).

I spotted Evan's grin from the corner of my eye. "What?"

He didn't reply with words. With a fleeting touch, he wiped the corner of my mouth and cleared the whipped cream I had childishly daubed on my face.

My cheeks flushed. Since the walk here, he and I had fallen into casual conversation—one which did not require any efforts. That meant my heart being allowed a tiny break from hammering down and lodging in my throat.

But now, as we sat so near each other with comforting silence and the frequent brushing of our limbs, that break was ending. My heart was going to give-in to the free fall.

Maria noticed me pause mid-bite. She didn't see the act that had just taken place, but her playful eyes told me she knew of everything that had taken place between us today. "Qué pasó? No appetite?"

"Not at all. I love these, Maria," I grinned. I had given up on translating languages. "The extra chocolate chip is adding years to my life."

She laughed. "Eat up, then. I have more things cooking up for you kids while Evan shows you around."

I was here to see things? "Tía." Evan's voice was a low groan, breaking my trail of thought. "No arruines el suspenso."

I drifted my eyes from him to her, lips upturned. Evan's mouth, despite the tone of annoyance, was tilting to a side with joy, eyes bright when they found mine. "I brought you here for a reason."

"Which is?"

He winked. "You'll find out."

Maria let out a small chuckle. "Finalmente trayendo a la niña a casa, cariño?"

This time, rather than acting confused, I dropped Evan a look. He met my gaze briefly, before sighing and uttering a defeated, "Maria."

"Lo siento," she laughed. I folded my hands on the table, taking a break from the half cupcake sitting demolished on my plate. "What are we talking about?"

Evan nudged my arm, and they replied in unison. "You."

I bit the inside of my cheek. "No complaints, I hope."

"Dios, no." Her eyes crinkled warmly at my apprehension. "All compliments, mija."

I gnawed at my lip, and found Evan grinning at me.

"I won't hold you guys any longer. Just come down as soon as food gets ready, okay?" She grabbed two cans of soda and tossed one my way, diverting her attention back to Evan. "Also, Suzzanne is going to be dropping Ania on her way to the doctor. Evelyn was supposed to come over to look after her, but you know how she is."

"Ania?" He fought a smile. "Why didn't you tell me beforehand? And what is this about Evelyn?"

Maria ignored him, eyes falling to me. "Suzzanne's a friend who does foster work. Ania is a little girl in her care, around six, and visits me sometimes," she explained with a smile. "Don't worry, I won't make you babysit. She loves Evan, though. Might intrude on you guys."

"And that," she continued with a sly smirk. "May be a worry."

"We don't mind." Evan glared at her. He stood up, gathering the plates in front of us and walking to the sink. I held on my own, but he insisted. Then, directing his voice to his aunt, he spoke: "Me estás avergonzando. Stop. Por favor. I'll do the dishes today."

Maria shrugged and patted his back. When he walked back to me, his hand was extended. Aunt's eyes were still latched onto us, but she hid her smile and scuttered the other way.

Evan took it as an excuse to pull me up the stairs. When we finally stepped onto even flooring, his eyes were searching for mine again. "You okay?"

I smiled. "Why won't I be?"

"She's a lot to deal with at times." He sighed. There was visible tenseness situating itself on his shoulders. "I hope it doesn't bother you."

"Evan, I couldn't understand half the things you said. I love her too much to be bothered." I argued. With joking eyes, I nudged him. "Or maybe you were actually complaining about me, and are now worried I might secretly be fluent in Spanish?"

"That might just be the case." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Can't have you knowing how I really feel, can I?"

I held his stare. How could I tell him I'd be happy as long as I was alongside him?

He spoke: "Still, I should've asked you—"

I moved closer before I could form a thought. His back against the wall, my shoes grazing his. I held his hand, eyes searching his, and let myself tip-toe enough to press my lips on the base of his throat.

He froze. His pulse skipped, quickening under my touch.

"Too bad." I grinned. "Because I have a feeling I know exactly how you feel."

Seconds slowed, warping into agonizing hours as his gaze swept over mine.

My feet had a mind of their own. They created appropriate distance in less than a millisecond, and my eyes darted around us in case someone had the displeasure of witnessing what had happened. Heat emerged on my neck, crowding my ears and my whole body.

But—Evan Parker had a look in his eyes utterly anew: light flickering in the pattern of hell-fire, mouth twisted in his classic, boyish grin. A look which traversed my body and imprinted into memory and made my heartbeats shoot through the sky.

Reality often realized itself in deathly-slow, terrible, terrible tides. One of which was now swallowing my body whole.

I flattened my hands beneath my pockets when he didn't stop staring. "What?"

He bit back a laugh behind his fist. "Just wondering why I pined in secret for so long when I could've had more of that."

My face set aflame. "I barely did anything."

He grabbed me by my belt loop, twirling me to face him. "Yet you're crazy blushing."

And I was growing even redder every passing second.

"Have I ever told you how attractive that is on you?"

"Stop." I tugged at his sleeve. Smooth-talking asshole. "Evan."

"Stop what?" He let go, pressing his fingers on my elbow as we continued to head forward into the hallway. Wherever he touched, my skin came alive. Hummed to a tune I wasn't familiar to, but knew straightaway.

I huffed. "Stop teasing me."

Now, his arm circled around my frame, lips a breath away from my ear. "Last I checked, you were the one pinning me to the wall, mi amor."

"I hate you." I said feebly. "I told you how I don't understand—"

"My love," he whispered. "That's what I said."

Unknown warmth trudged all over my chest, blossoming into something far beyond reach. "Can I ask for a favour?"

He brushed stray hair out of my eyes. "Anything."

"I want to learn," I hesitated. "The language, I mean. If. . .you'll teach me."

"Of course I will." He broke into a breath-taking smile. "I'll do whatever you want me to."

▂

I COULDN'T STOP PAUSING every three steps we took. Evan had to drag me along for the most part, yet my heels managed to fixate on the ground, eyes stuck on the wonder covering the entirety of the walls in this particular room. Paintings. So many of them, and all worthy of being stared at for hours on end.

"Did she do all of this?" I gaped. "Every single one of them?"

He smiled with the calmness I hadn't seen him carry for the whole day. "Yes. Amazing, isn't it?"

His mother was a painter, and that much I'd known when he showed me the photograph in his room. What I hadn't known was that she was an artist who had found mastery over the brushes and each of her strokes. It was ethereal, to put it simply. Artists were one-of-a-kind.

And Evan understood that, because there was a reason he was showing me this and picking out a few.

"Mom didn't have a lot to look forward to after her chemo's. She was too exhausted to get to household work, so she would try and sit in the garden and sketch whatever would hold her interest the longest." He spoke, tearing his eyes from the frame in his hands to my face. "I helped her work with some of these, but I'm not a painter, so she wouldn't let me do much, worried I'll spoil it even more. Most of these are pre-diagnose, though."

Silence fell through the conversation, and I walked to him to eliminate the distance. He continued, "I remember this one time when she was offered to have a few of her paintings displayed in this annual exposition for the first time. She was working back then, trying to make ends meet, because my dad couldn't be generous enough to pay her rent after kicking her out." He looked away. "She was beyond happy to have the opportunity, and had called me immediately to give me the news."

I looked at him. "Did the paintings get to the exposition?"

He shook his head, and grabbed another painting hung to the wall with his unoccupied hand. "Her health started deteriorating then. With so many rounds to the hospital, it no longer stayed her priority. It should've been mine. I—I shouldn't have forgotten her only dream."

"You haven't." I grazed his arm. "You're making them come true now."

I took in the sight of all the ones he held in his hands, and smiled. "I can now see where you get that imagination of yours."

"Come on," he looked at me with a twinkle in his eye. "Everything remotely artistic is up for discussion. I could send over one of Ania's drawings and let it be interpreted as the rendition of the Mona Lisa. And let me tell you, even her stick figures are illegible."

I laughed at that. "Ania and I are going to be best friends, then."

When he resumed his work, I glared at him. "Don't try to divert the topic. You don't give yourself enough credit for being so talented, you know."

Evan's voice was low as his hand brushed mine in the gentlest of touch. "Flattery is uncanny of you." He intertwined our hands, our palms pressed tightly, and brought my wrist to his lips while maintaining eye-contact. "Or is that an attempt at wanting to see how wild my imagination actually gets?"

Oh, my God. "You're so," I groaned. One word wasn't a good enough summation of this boy.

"Charming? Handsome? Alluring?"

"Vexing," I rolled my eyes.

"Only with you." He smiled.

Someone's voice rung out in the hallway. "I'm about to walk in, and hopefully not on something scarring. This is your final warning."

I jumped ten steps away from Evan at recognizing who it was.

Evelyn walked in, in her arms the cutest little girl I had ever seen. Her bangs were obscuring her vision as she slowly digested the fact that she was being transferred to Evan's hold.

"Sorry to do this to you when you were clearly having a moment," Evelyn stuck her tongue out. "But I need you to take care of her while I'm gone. I'll be back sooner than you'd realize!"

Evan's eyes were wide. "Where are you headed?"

She ignored him, eyes landing on me. "Oh, and by the way, don't let her have candy. She's had plenty on her way here."

"Evelyn." Evan's voice was stern, but the little girl in his arms started to squirm and wriggle, making him distracted. "You and I need to have a talk, right—"

"Not now," was all his sister said. She disappeared without any further explanation.

Weren't the Parkers' a real surprise. I laughed, and Evan dropped me a glare.

Ania grew antsier in his arms. He crouched and made her stand on her feet, simultaneously letting out a string of curses in his native. It was the best for him to do that. I didn't want the little girl understanding any of the filth that often left his mouth.

"So," his eyes dropped to me. "Ever babysit before?"

I grinned. "Never too late to start."

Ania clutched onto my clothes, as if finally acknowledging me, and I lowered myself to face her. "Hi."

She grabbed onto Evan's sleeve, making him scoot closer to me. And as if it was confidential information, she whispered in his ear while pointing at me. "Is she. . .an angel?"

I would've been highly offended at the way Evan broke into a fit of laugh had I not be laughing myself.

He asked: "Who told you that word?"

"I did." Maria walked in like it was the most casual thing to do, and her hand slipped in mine a single candy.

I gaped. She winked at me, pointing at the little girl who was on a hunt for more sweets. "Who's an angel, Ania?"

She pointed at me. Evan's eyes were intense as they landed on me, but I did not give him the satisfaction of staring back. Instead, I picked Ania in my arms and handed her the candy I was given to bait her.

Her eyes lit up. She took it into her tiny hands, and then beamed.

Kids were so gullible. I rose an eyebrow at Evan, as if challenging him to beat this.

"Stop feeding her candy. She won't have any lunch." He glared at Maria instead, having seen the transaction between us, and then held his palm open in front of the girl busy toying with her candy. "And you—give that back."

"I don't like you anymore." Ania huffed at him dramatically, as if nothing mattered except for the sugary treat in her hand. She had the antics of a princess. "You're...a devil."

Evan's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Who in—who told you that word?"

"I didn't," Maria chimed in, defensive hands in the air.

"Do you want to play?" I asked. Her nods were eager. She hopped out of my arms, and then popped the candy into her mouth as she motioned for me to follow her. I could feel Evan's gaze on my back, and I braced for the mockery I'd receive for getting ahead of him in the competition this had just become.

But when I turned around, his eyes had warmth lingering in them.

He was smiling. Not the teasing, I-got-you one, but the gentle, appreciative one—the exact turn of his lips that made my pulse quicken. Heat rushed through me, and tripled when he grabbed my hand in his and pulled us out of the room.

When I looked back one last time, I caught the ghost of a smile on Maria's face.

• • •

a/n: i know i haven't updated in months. IM SORRY. even though there was no concept of a schedule to begin with, i didn't want to disappear for months on end, unannounced. (which is exactly what i did). this year has just been crazy for me since it started; i have been swamped with work and school and writing has been non-existent. my exams finally ended, i have this month and the next to myself, so i am planning to make up for the lack of chapters for sure. i hope you guys can be patient and understand.

if the translation of the spanish phrases are slightly off, i apologize.

if you guys want snippets for other stories that i have in works, or snippets for this book's future chapters, OR simply want to reach out, make sure to follow me on twitter (abrialtales). i mostly scream about books, writing, and anime :)

let me know what you thought of this one !! hope you're doing well.

you're golden,

abrial