Page 145 of Through My Window
12:15 a.m.
I was calling to wish you a happy new year, and you didn’t answer.
12:37 a.m.
Witch?
1:45 a.m.
Why don’t you answer the phone?
2:20 a.m.
Did you fall asleep?
9:05 a.m.
Raquel, I’m starting to get worried. Are you okay?
10:46 a.m.
Shit, Raquel, I’m really worried now.
That was his last message.
I bite my lower lip as I begin to type a response; however, I don’t even finish typing the first word when my phone rings in my hand.
Incoming call:Ares <3
My heart speeds up, threatening to burst out of my chest. I take a deep breath.
“Hello?”
There’s a second of silence, as if he didn’t expect me to answer, as if he was used to me not answering.
“Where are you?” he asks, and the seriousness in his voice surprises me.
“At my house,” I reply.
“Look out the window.” And he hangs up. I stare at the phone in confusion before my gaze falls on the window. It’s snowing again, so the window is closed. I get up and walk over to it, moving the curtains aside.
Ares is standing on his patio. He’s wearing jeans and a black jacket over a white shirt, and he looks a little tanned. His black hair is in that messy style that suits him perfectly, just him. I’d like to say that I’m getting used to seeing him, that I’m getting used to the depth of those blue eyes, the confidence of his posture, and how beautiful he is, but I’d be lying. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it, and especially now that I’ve gone two weeks without seeing him.
My body reacts to him as usual, my heart pounding desperately, my stomach turning, and my hands sweating a little. However, it’s not the physical reactions that always take me by surprise but the sensations, what he makes me feel, the excitement that fills my chest, how he makes me forget that there is a world around me.
Snowflakes fall on him, landing on his jacket and in his hair. I can’t believe he’s really here. I fumble to open the window. He gives me that smile that would take anyone’s breath away.
“Hello, Witch.”
I don’t know what to say. I’m speechless, and he seems to know it, because he quietly hops the fence that divides our yards and climbs up the ladder to reach my room. I step back, facing him. His eyes look right through me. I want to speak and tell him what happened, but from the way he looks at me, I know he already knows. Without warning, he pulls me forward until I crash onto his chest. He holds me tight, making me feel safe. And at that moment, I don’t know why, but tears well up in my eyes, and I find myself crying inconsolably. Ares just comforts me, caressing the back of my head.
“He . . . almost died . . .” I struggle to say the words. “I don’t know what I would have done if he . . . I feel so guilty.”
He just lets me cry and mumble all the things I want to say, pressing me tight against his chest. God, I’ve missed him so much. We break away, and he takes my face in both hands, his thumbs wiping away my tears, and then he presses his lips lightly to mine, giving me a soft, gentle kiss.
He rests his forehead on mine.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks. I step back, putting distance between us. I can’t concentrate with him so close to me.
