C11 Amelia Rose

‘To my Queen,

My love for you, my fair queen, has blossomed like a Rafflesia Arnoldii. Yet, how much longer shall we contain our forbidden love? Your tender touch caresses my dreams. I long for your warm embrace once more. Will my queen indulge me tonight?

With love,

R.M.’

“‘To My Queen’ is a beautiful book.” The raspy baritone voice startled me. It sounded like it was right behind me, but there was no one there. I might have imagined it, I was notorious for getting enraptured in a book, especially romance books with fancy dialects.

I frowned, peering around the semi-crowded library, until I found him; my intensely mysterious admirer. His dark rusty brown curly fade framed his light brown skin perfectly. He grinned from behind his coffee, letting his dimples show; He was...I can’t even describe it. Yes, I can, ethereal, but darkly and charmingly. Dark and charming, that’s not a good mix.

He sat his To-Go cup on the side table and turned it, showing his name- Eli. I wasn’t sure if he was shy or if this quiet mysteriousness was part of his charm. Either way, that darn smile was digging into me like it was filling out the foundation in my heart to build its home.

“Amelia Rose,” I dipped down into a mini curtsey. His entire being screamed ‘I came from the 1800s in a time machine but adapted quickly’. He didn’t say anything, so I sat on the couch next to his. “You’re right; this book is beautiful. I’m still not sure who R.M. is yet, but I have already fallen for him,” I laughed and waited a moment for him to realize it was a joke, and discuss the book with me.

He smiled, admiration glinting in his eyes. He took another sip of his coffee before leaning back on the couch. “The king isn’t in love with her, but he’s so jealous. How does that work? You are one with the male race. Can you enlighten me?” I stared him down, coaxing him to engage with me. I was trying to yank him out of this shy trance. He leaned in and tilted his head to the side, presumably pondering the question.

“I’m not one with them anymore; I lost that privilege long ago.” He leaned back against the sofa, taking another sip of coffee. I was hoping it was a joke, but he didn’t laugh. We sat there for a moment, looking at each other. His voice had wrapped around me like a warm hug. My heart didn’t race; it slowed and leveled out. It puts me at ease. There were so many layers to him, and I wanted to peel through them. What trauma lay behind the fading facade? It was clear he wasn’t comfortable with me yet. And I wasn’t sure it was safe. He was calm, and his emotions low, making it easy to forget he was stalking me and possibly dangerous-but I wouldn’t.

“You are a curious one, Mr. Eli. You like all these books. You make me eager to learn what’s inside.” I paused, soaking in more of his smile. I was stroking his ego to see it. “Why did it take so long for you to talk to me?”

His eyes grew wide, and he lowered the cup from his lips slowly. He recovered his expression quickly, glossing over the surprise and smacking on one of fake confidence. “I was...I…” The confidence fell quickly. I clenched my fingers together and furrowed my brows at them. When I looked up, he was gone. I scanned the room but didn’t see him.

He settled on the truth; I think. “You intrigue me,” he was...in front of me when I turned back around. My heart dropped and took off running to only God knows where, but it certainly wasn’t pumping my blood anymore. His gaze was so intense it felt like the sun was blazing on me. If he stared at me much longer, I would sunburn. However, somehow, I was enjoying it. It felt like I was in one of my books.

I’m not sure when I stood up, and I wasn’t aware I was walking, but I could feel his breath on my lips now. Goosebumps formed all over, and my lips tingled, edging closer to him. He didn’t move. His eyes flicked back and forth from my lips to my neck, his chest heaving. I was so caught up in living out my own romance novel, praying it didn’t turn into a ‘who done it’ mystery, I nearly forgot we were in a library. I closed my eyes and started to lean in, but I couldn’t do it. I didn’t even know him. I stepped back and opened my eyes. He was gone. I groaned at the ceiling, silently fussing at myself for running him off.

“Getting cozy with your mystery man, I see.” Before I turned to look, I already knew who it was. The giggle she didn’t even try to stifle was confirmation.

“Caylie, you spy.” I rolled my eyes, laughing, and faced her. “Have you ever even been in here before?” We plopped on the couch.

“Yes, I have,” she nodded matter-of-factly, “When I was like 8. That is beside the point. Look at this picture I took of you and the mystery stalker.” I leaned in to get a better view of the picture. She captured us nearly nose to nose. My eyes closed, waiting, anticipating his touch. His eyes seemed to absorb every detail of my face, satisfied with his findings. It should have been weird, but the fluttering in my stomach and the faint rise in the corners of my lips told a different perspective of our growing story. I would see him again. I could feel it in my bones.

“By the way, you’re smiling at this picture. I can see you’re still not weirded out by this guy. Come on, Meli, red flags!” Her lips kept moving, but my ears could only hear his warm voice crawling through me; its deepness vibrating, awakening all my senses. “Amelia ROSE!” Her voice pierced through my little daydream.

“Yes, Caylie, I know he seems creepy. It’s just that something feels different. His eyes-”

“Are dreamy, I get it. Charisma is always hard to see past, but you’re smart and strong enough to resist.”

“I was going to say,” I paused, “sad. His eyes are so sad.” Caylie’s eyebrows furrowed, and she looked at the picture again.

“He looks hungry to me. Like he wants a big bowl of Amelia Rose soup.” She cupped her hands up against me, then drank from my invisible essence.

“Oh, shut up.” I gave her a shoulder bump before the laughter burst out of us. “Why are you really here?”

“Okay, fine. I was following you to make sure he didn’t kill you.”

“The truth.” I leaned back on the couch. Caylie’s shoulders slumped.

“Can’t I just be at the library?”

“You can, but you’re not. Something is up, I can tell. What is it?”

“Ugh, you and your empathy powers!” We smiled, and she turned her whole body to face me on the couch. “Lemaitre dumped me.” She stared at her fingers, fiddling with her sandals. “I called him to meet up so I could break it off. He beat me to it. Turns out I’m not good enough for him.”

“Did he say that, or is this the ‘he was supposed to let you break up with him and then be miserable without you, but he’s not’ talking?”

“Both.”

“What! That jerk let those words come out of his mouth!”

“He got promoted. A mediocre photographer apparently doesn’t look as good on his arm.”

“Wow, he is an idiot who is going to find love very difficult to find with those perimeters. Your art is beautiful, and there’s nothing mediocre about it. But you don’t need me to tell you how great you are or how dumb he is-”

“It definitely helps, though.” We laughed although it sounded more like quick, heavy breathing. I held out both of my arms, and she knew from years of friendship what was coming after this hug.

I called Aria and explained what had happened. She, of course, knew exactly what to do. We met at our favorite spot. The state park had little nooks everywhere, perfect for semi-private parties. One, in particular, sat on a hill mostly hidden. Perfect for watching the sunset and rise again, something we did often. The view of the park and city lights twinkling in the distance below us; couple that view with a mini grill, your best friends, and a camera, and there is no way you can stay upset about anything. Nothing made Caylie perk up like a photo-op, especially with Aria’s special kind of crazy in the mix.

The tension between Aria and Ryan was so thick I was choking. Every time he tried to talk to her or touch her, she dismissed him. When he gave her the space she was asking for, she watched him like she wanted him to come back. She laid down on the blanket, and I joined her. The sun was still high, so there were no stars visible yet. So, we looked up into the baby blue sky, watching the clouds slowly make their way around the world. It was peaceful, peaceful enough to bring her emotional aura down.

“Do you think you two will be ok?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I still want to be his. I just-” She trailed off.

“What’s stopping you?”

“The better question is what’s stopping him from doing to me what we did to Tasha? If I hadn’t stopped him, we would have made wonderful, passionate love to each other. The entire world would have disappeared and it would have just been me and him becoming one,” she sighed, “but it wasn’t.” I thought for a moment. I knew it would devastate her. What can you say to ease that fear? I laid on my side, propping myself up on my elbow.

“Do you regret meeting him?” She sat up abruptly.

“Of course not!” She all but screamed.

“And if you gave him a chance, and he cheated, would you regret that time with him?” She frowned, taking in the question, really considering the answer.

“No, I wouldn’t. Every minute I get with him is special to me. Even these when I’m mad at him.”

“Then why take those moments away from yourself for something that may not even happen?” I watched her go through a few different expressions before landing on a smile. A smile she was giving him. A smile he was returning. Hope. What a beautiful thing.

His phone rang. I couldn’t hear his conversation, but it didn’t sound good. Aria and I both went to him when he hung up.

“It’s ma, something’s wrong she said I need to get back home like now.”