Chapter Six

~Cesc~

The words had been dying to come out for so long. Silence hung in their air as he looked away, unable to take whatever expression had to be settling on her features – pity, disgust, annoyance? He didn’t know what she was feeling, but he knew he’d ruined their friendship. This one was beyond repair.

But how could he contain it any longer? Seeing how she went out of her way for that child had shown him he could never think of her as ‘just a friend’ anymore. No – she was always going to be what he compared other women to, and who he wished he could be with. No one would compare to her in his mind, and with those thoughts in mind, and with her selfless expression, the words had tumbled out.

Where they were parked had emptied out. It was only his car remaining.

The silence had become oppressive, but at last she broke it, “You love me?” He nodded, still unable to look at her. Instead he tried to hold back tears as he looked down at the steering wheel.

He nearly jumped when her hand came in contact with his cheek, gently brushing away tears.

“I’ve been trying for months now to figure out what I’m feeling for you. I don’t know if it’s love…but I want to try this – more than anything.” He looked at her, trying not to get too hopeful, in case he didn’t understand her correctly. “You mean…dating?” he asked unsurely. She nodded, smiling. “Take me to see The King’s Speech next week.”

“Anything!” he agreed rapidly.

The drive home was quiet, but the silence was not uncomfortable. Once at her condo, Cesc pulled over to the curb. He expected an awkward goodbye; sure she was going to take back what she’d said.

However, she simply leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek before getting out, and disappearing inside her apartment. The place she’d contacted seemed to radiate unnatural heat, and constantly his fingers were drawn back to it as he drove to his condo.

~Olivia~

Olivia was near the point of freaking out. She had been hanging out with Gerard and Marc in Aina’s apartment when out of nowhere their mother had appeared.

She was sitting on the couch, trying her hardest to arrange her legs in a more ladylike manner, instead of her usual careless posture. How did Aina normally sit? She tried to be like her friend, who possessed an unlimited amount of effortless poise. Alas, she just couldn’t replicate it. She settled for the gentile pose of crossed legs (in the ladylike manner, not the guy way), and placed her hands limply in her lap.

She subtly glanced down at her clothes, and winced. Jeans and a t-shirt, her normal attire, seemed frighteningly inappropriate. She wished she’d put on a dress, or at least a skirt. Her jeans had a large, rather conspicuous stain on them as well. Crap…

“So Geri, who is this young lady…?” his mother asked, thankfully in Castilian, and not Catalan. “This is Aina’s friend Olivia, or Liv, as she prefers. Liv, this is my mom,” the defender introduced.

“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” she replied as calmly as her nerves allowed. “Oh, dear, no need for such formality. Montserrat is fine,” the older woman corrected, fixing her hair idly. She was dressed sharply in a business suit, a decorative scarf hanging around her neck. Fashionable jewelry completed her look.

“So what’s the visit for?” Marc asked as he returned from the kitchen with a glass of water for her.

“I was hoping you would teach about this Skype thing…I miss my daughter,” their mother answered. “I’ll go get my laptop. Marc, how about you get mamá that thing Aina said to give her that I forgot about…”

Once the two brothers were gone, Montserrat turned to Olivia.
“So Liv, how did you meet my children?” she questioned. “Well, I met Aina when she brought me a welcome present, and we became fast friends. I met Geri when he came over to visit right before she left for England. Marc…a few weeks later, I believe.”
Gerard returned, laptop in hand, and showed him mother how to use a webcam, and helped her set up an account.

“Olivia, you work this evening, right?” he asked. She nodded. “Mamá, you have to try Liv’s cooking! Can we go out for dinner tonight?” The older woman nodded, to the female’s horror.

Stupid Rosy…

~Aina~

The King’s Speech had been wonderful. Cesc had been wonderful.
She had just gotten out of class, and was on the Tube home. Cesc was back at training, though he was being careful. For most of the time he would be doing strength building separate from everyone else.

It had really hit her, though, just how soon she would be returning to Barcelona, and Cesc would be staying in England. They would be hours apart from each other. She saw that as no reason to end the budding relationship – after all, Leo and Antonella were continents apart and were still together. They had been together for years too. If they could make it work, she was sure she and Cesc could manage. Still, it was a frightening prospect.

Liv: What does your mom like to eat???

Aina arched a brow at the text, and responded with a question mark for clarification.

Liv: Your mom came over to talk to Rosy and Marc, and Rosy was clever enough to volunteer my cooking…

Aina: Ok, well, is she ordering, or expecting you to surprise her?

Liv: A surprise…

Aina: Go for Paella with chicken instead of seafood. That’s a favorite of our household. Go light on seasoning.

Liv: THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!

She smiled, and shut her phone as she back into the daylight, and walked the short distance to her apartment. Bailey was already there, having skipped class, and was making out with someone. She crept quietly to her room, and set her things down. She was heading toward the kitchen when she saw the other girl’s shirt being discarded. She quickly returned to her room, packed an overnight bag, and headed out.

She didn’t need to be kept up all night again because of fucking Bailey. She exited out the back door, and made her way down the fire escape.

She wrapped her FC Barcelona scarf tighter around herself as she ventured out into the open street and was hit by a gust of wind. England was far colder than Barcelona in the winter, and she was not accustomed to it. She was not going to miss that part of England at all.

She wandered around London, keeping an eye on the time. At last it reached six pm.

She opened her phone and dialed. ‘Hello?’ Cesc answered, sounding distracted. She heard jingling, and realized he’d accidently thrown his keys into his kit bag once again.

“Hey, is it alright if I stay the night? My roommate is screwing someone on the sofa right now…” she asked. ‘Of course – do you need a ride? Where are you?’ he answered. She looked at her surroundings, “No idea, at the moment. I’ve been wandering around trying to get jarring mental images out of my head…” She heard his chuckle, ‘Elaborate no further…the guys can be like that when drunk, and it doesn’t make for pretty pictures. Can you find a landmark?’

She huffed, “I see a bar, a pub, a shoe store, and a garbage can. I just described most of England!” “Fair point,” he conceded, “find a street sign.”

She laughed, “I’ll just take a cab.”

~Gerard~

Olivia had disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the three of them outside in a secluded booth in the restaurant. They were in the back corner to avoid attention if possible.

“So, you like her a lot?” his mother asked shrewdly.

“Yes,” Marc answered for him, smirking. He elbowed his younger brother who just sent him a smug glance. The younger sibling continued, “It’s more than like though.”

“Shut up!” Gerard scolded. The other two laughed at his expense.

“Is Aina alright with it though?” He nodded, “She hasn’t said anything against it, and has helped me a few times.” She smiled at him, “Well, I like her. She’s got spunk.” Gerard looked toward the kitchen just in time to see a head fly back. He smirked – she’d been spying on him. Well, them…but it pleased him nonetheless.

Twenty minutes later the paella was brought out, and it was delicious. He was sure, however, that Liv was convinced otherwise, and excused himself to the bathroom, and snuck back into the kitchen.

The temperature rose significantly as he turned the corner, and the smell of herbs assaulted him.

Drawn in further by the mixture of delicious smells, he found her giving instructions to one of the other chefs. He leaned against the large, stainless steel refrigerator. “So, this is what it’s like to be a chef?” he asked. She started, and spun around. “What are you doing back here Giraffe? I mean Rosy! No, I mean Gerund! Ack – Gerard!” she demanded, fumbling over his name. He pouted, “Giraffe? I came to tell you the paella is delicious. My mom loves it.”

He saw her relax, smiling a bit. “That’s good,” she sighed, scratching the back of her neck nervously. He smiled at her, “And for what it’s worth, she likes you a lot too.”

He turned, winked at her over his shoulder, and headed back out.

“Damn Rosy…” he heard her mutter.