ALL THE WORDS WE COULDN'T SAY

Was Persy Leos actually considering this?

The fact that she even bothered to hear me out was surprising enough.

"Then give me a chance to prove myself."

She paused, probably to weigh the options of going through with this. A burst of anxiety rose within me once I realised if this was actually a good thing. Even if I help her, would she forgive me? Would she forgive a bully? Would she forgive the person who she trusted and and then left her out to dry?

'I will never forgive you.' Her words from that party boomeranged back to me. She'd made up her mind a long time ago. Maybe this was a bad decision. Maybe I should just leave her alone.

"Okay. I'll let you tutor me. But it's not for you to prove yourself. Like I said before, I will never forgive you. You may have changed but what you did never will. We do this and once my marks get better, we go our separate ways."

"Done." You fucking idiot, you haven't even though this through yourself?

"And we don't speak about anything other than the work."

"Of course."

She set her books down on the desk and took a seat. "Now fucking do your job."

•

Something happened between Persy and me after she'd shared what she'd gone through. At first I wanted to call the police, but I knew better. Her family depended on that cruel man so it wasn't an option.

We felt like true friends. Like we'd crossed some imaginary bridge and arrived at our final destination. The air between us felt lighter, more breathable.

Now I was bringing her over to my house. My parents were out being lawyers and wouldn't be back til late. But that wasn't the only thing I was nervous about. I never had a girl in my room before.

I watched Persy look around. "It's so big." She complimented.

"Thanks."

"But why does it look like a hospital ward?"

"What do you mean?"

"White walls, white curtains and sheets. You don't even have any posters."

"I have books." I defended. Persy smiled.

"Yeah, you have books." She leaned against my bookshelf. She looked so effortless, so flexible. I wished I was more like that. Instead, I looked like the Nutcracker. Her body looked so relaxed and unbothered, her limps moved gracefully with every step that she took.

"So... urm what are we going to do now?" I swung my arms awkwardly at my sides.

"Well, we know you can act when under the influence. But can you do it without?"

"I'm not sure..."

"Let's take it from Act 6, scene 2."

I froze. That was the one scene I had been dreading. It was the kissing scene. Yes, I was fucking aware there'd be a kissing scene in this play, but I never thought I'd practice it with Persy. How was I supposed to tell her I never kissed anyone before? I always felt like it'd be easier to kiss someone on stage who I barely knew, but now that we'd gotten closer, my mind couldn't stop stressing about it.

"Killian? I said Act 6, scene 2."

"Can we do another scene?"

"Why?" I knew she knew why. She just wanted me to say it.

"I-I just feel like we should do something from Act 4 again." I scratched the back of my neck. Persy pushed herself off the bookcase and made her way toward me. My heart began to jitter in my chest.

"Have you ever kissed someone before?"

"Would you believe me if I said yes?"

"No."

"Then no."

She smiled. "What are you worried about?"

"I don't know." I looked down, unable to meet her gaze.

She moved past me and sat on my bed. A girl, not just any but Persy, was sitting on my bed. While I may not have kissed anyone before, the sight made my trousers feel tight and my chest warm.

"Kiss me."

"What?"

"I said kiss me."

"I don't know how."

"Then let me kiss you."

A kiss with Persy was in my eminent future. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. As I sat down on my bed, my nerves started to take over. What do I do? How does a kiss even start?

She turned around to face me and crossed her legs. I did the same. Her lips had a sheer coat of cherry-flavoured lip balm. It mixed with the lavender scent of her body, making me feel both calm and excited. I noticed that she wasn't taller than me anymore, her torso must've been shorter than mine as we were now eye-level with each other.

Warm hands cupped my cheeks and brought me closer. Holy fuck I was going to die! The blast of electric adrenaline soared through every limb, every organ, every blood vessel I owned. I stopped breathing. How could I breathe when there was no more air between us? As Persy got closer, I watched the slow-moving flecks of gold and green dancing with each other in her eyes. It was the last thing I saw before she ordered me to close my eyes.

The darkness felt both comforting and scary. I reminded myself that this was Persy and that no matter what, I trusted her.

I could feel how close she was when the warmth of her skin reached my face. The patience was killing me. My skin itched with the urge to just move my head a centimetre closer, and it became overwhelming.

Then it happened. Her lips touched mine. They kissed mine. I finally tasted the cherry flavour that lay on top of her soft skin. They felt like heaven. They felt better than any grade I'd ever gotten, every reward I'd ever received. There was nothing in my entire, miserable life that could be compiled to make me feel like I deserved this. No amount of money my family owned felt enough to be awarded such a pleasure. No drug on earth felt comparable to this. This.

Then she pulled away. My neck was still outstretched, yearning for the pure bliss I had just received. Like a flower arching itself towards the sun. I pursed my lips, they tasted like cherry. Suddenly, I could breathe again, but I hoped I didn't look too exhausted of air.

"Not too bad." Persy remarked, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

I smiled sheepishly as I pushed my glasses higher up the bridge of my nose.

•

Persy was studying law. Fucking law. Reading the material felt like I was in my father's office all over again. One thing he hated was that I declined Cambridge. The other was that I didn't pursue law, despite studying it in school. I remember he had me memorise important cases, figure out how to defend a case and what strategies worked better in court.

But it was a shock. Persy never felt like the type to study law. She was a performer, a fan of the arts. But I guess a lot had changed since five years ago.