I don't believe in coincidences. I never have.
He haunted my soul for a thousand and forty-four nights. He kissed my face with smiles, and sometimes stained it with tears. He was my blessing and my curse. I loved him and hated him in equal measure. He was with me for so long that I never thought that one day he would simply vanish, that he would turn to ashes.
It's a strange feeling to lose someone who never belonged to you. I feel like I've lost him for eternity, and yet, deep down, I feel that I've found him, that we've found each other.
— Yanna!
I flinch and blink often when my name is called out, causing me to lower my voice. I arch my eyebrows quizzically as I lower my gaze to the familiar face on the phone screen.
— Olivia! I say her name slowly, mimicking her tone perfectly, trying to adopt a serious posture.
A weak smile appears on her face, and I swear I can read her thoughts for a few seconds.
— I'm glad to know that Nerja hasn't changed you one bit. You're still the same old bitch!" the silky voice comes again, stealing a giggle.
— It's impossible to change my whole personality in less than twenty-four hours! Even for me it's too much! I reply almost instantly, shrugging my shoulders in slight disinterest.
— Leaving unimportant details aside... What's it like there? What are the people like? Hot guys, mean girls? Olivia bombards me with questions, bringing a smile to my lips again.
I instinctively look around, scanning the room I'm in with my eyes. The pristine white walls, the huge windows hidden behind curtains that touch the wooden floor and the hanging plants everywhere make me think for a few moments that I'm in the Garden of Eden.
— It's beautiful, I reply simply, turning my gaze back to her.
— Beautiful?! It's absolutely gorgeous! You live ten minutes from the ocean! Not to mention I'd give my life to have orange trees in front of my house!
I blink a lot and frown for a few moments, looking around slightly bewildered when I realize Olivia might be right. A pungent citrus odor wafts through the house, but I've been unable to identify the source until now.
Last night fatigue took its toll, robbing me of every last ounce of energy and preventing me from exploring my new home. Although the house is not completely foreign to me, last night was the first time I walked through its threshold, and to say I was impressed is an understatement. As soon as I stepped onto the white wooden floor, I was mesmerized by my surroundings.
Pursing my lips into a straight line, I direct my steps to one of the windows in front of me, puffing out in utter shock when my gaze falls on an orange tree.
— How did you know... I ask slightly puzzled, stopping abruptly when I realize my friend is quiet, far too quiet. You're joking! Don't tell me you followed me! I gasp in utter shock, fixing my eyes on his face.
The sly smile that stains his face confirms my suspicion, making me shake my head slightly in denial. This girl is incredible!
— Hey! It's not my fault you left your location on. Besides, anyone who has access to the video footage from cameras in public places! she rushes to my defense, waving her hands like it's no big deal.
I sigh and tilt my head slightly to one side, wrinkling my nose. I glance at the screen, trying to figure out if he's telling the truth or if he's broken a thousand and one laws again.
— Oli, this is a residential neighborhood, I say after a while, chuckling slightly when his smile fades, realizing I've got it.
— Okay, okay! Damn! You didn't show any sign of life, and I was too curious to see what the place looked like. By the way, the postman just left you something in your mailbox, he adds with a sly smile in the corner of his mouth.
I frown and purse my lips, ready to give him a big lecture for breaking the law for some stupid reason, but I don't.
— I think it's time to find a more... slightly... illegal hobby, I mutter as I open the front door, fixing my gaze on the white box a few feet away.
I hear it puffing in the background as I tread carefully on the cubic stone. The sun unapologetically kisses my face as my nostrils are flooded with the scent of orange. I smile at the sight of the dreamscape, and for a few seconds I feel like I'm dreaming.
I've dreamed of this moment for so long that I've come to believe that it will remain just a dream, just a fantasy. Although salty tears stained my face last night when I decided to leave the past behind, my soul is now bathed in light. I am finally here, in the place I will call home from now on!
I never thought that "home" would be thousands of kilometers away from my homeland, but that doesn't matter, because home is not a place, but a feeling. The feeling that envelops my heart when I am close to those I love to the stars and back!
I'm about to open the mailbox, but I stop with my hand in the air when Olivia's voice comes again.
— You know, I think your outfit is more illegal than my hobby!
I freeze for a few moments and swear under my breath when I take a quick glance at my clothes. I swallow dryly when I realize Olivia is right. It certainly isn't very classy of me to walk around the front of the house while wearing a set of satin pajamas and a robe that doesn't cover much. The set I'm wearing could be considered by many a set of underwear, not a set of pajamas.
I rush to grab the envelopes from the mailbox, feeling my cheeks catch fire as the gaze of a woman passing on the street falls on me.
— Damn! How is it that you make me do stupid things from thousands of miles away! I exclaim in utter embarrassment as I lift the envelopes to my face to cover my face.
I suddenly stop talking when my attention is caught by a black envelope with my name on it. Olivia's voice can be heard in the background, but the only thing I can focus on is the bright red ink my name has been marked in.
— I gotta go. I'll call you later, Oli, I mutter half-voiced, ending the call despite my friend's shrill voice.
I swallow dryly, opening the envelope with some reluctance. I frown when my gaze falls on a piece of paper, and freeze when I realize that the yellowish paper I hold between my fingers is identical to the one that was handed to me the night before.
My lungs empty of oxygen at the sight of the cursive handwriting I recognize, and a strange feeling comes over me as I read the words written in the same deep red.
"Leave before you pique my interest. If you don't, you'll be next, you sweet little butterfly.... "
I moisten my lips and take a deep breath, trying to process what's happening, but finding it impossible. I glance at the paper again, running my fingers over each letter.
My gaze lingers on the last word longer than it should. My thoughts run to El Comandante, and I can't help but wonder if he isn't the one behind the words. Mariposita... that's how he addressed me last night, but why would he tell me to leave when his gestures have asked the exact opposite?
I wince slightly when a quiet noise caresses my eardrums, causing me to shift my gaze in the direction it came from. I blink often, fixing my gaze on the black car as it drives forward on the stretch of cubic stone in front of the house to my right.
I swear under my breath when I realize I'm dressed totally inappropriately to greet my neighbors. I don't even get a step as the driver's door opens, causing me to close my eyes for a few moments, downright embarrassed.
I sigh as a pair of footsteps walk towards me and I open my eyes, flashing a smile that's meant to be friendly, but it fades as soon as my gaze falls on the one walking towards me.
— You've got to be kidding me! I mutter to myself, forgetting to breathe when my eyes meet his.
A smile of a million smiles blooms on his face as he reaches my face, and the only thing I can do is look at him.
— Good morning!" his low voice catches my attention, making me throw my head back so I can look at him.
My first instinct is to pinch my arm to make sure I'm not dreaming, but I don't, as his coffee and whiskey-flavored scent floods my nostrils, a clear indicator that I'm wide awake.
I arch my eyebrows in mild surprise when my gaze falls on his body, and I wish I could give myself two witty slaps when I linger with my gaze on him longer than I should.
Though his body is covered by a plain, black t-shirt rather than a simandering shirt, he hasn't lost an ounce of the tarnished air of authority, caressed by elegance.
I straighten my voice and give him a quizzical look while displaying a weak smile.
— Morning. Good morning was two minutes ago, I murmur softly, glancing theatrically at the watch I wear on my left hand.
He purses his lips, wanting to say something, but changes his mind. He runs his fingers through his ebony hair, a gesture that captures my undivided attention, which he notices, for his face is marred by a shadow of a smile.
I look at him with an attention that illustrates curiosity when he turns his head to one side to look carefully at the house in front of which we are standing. An awkward silence falls over us, but it is soon broken by his low, whispering voice.
— I apologize. I didn't realize that you and Dima... he clears his throat, letting the sentence trail off. I won't tell him about last night.
His Adam's apple rises and falls slightly as he swallows dryly, finally turning his gaze on me.
I prefer to remain silent when our eyes meet again, sending cold shivers down my spine. We stare at each other for what feels like hours, and no matter how much reason screams at me to pull away from him, I simply can't do it.
His intense gaze leaves me breathless, causing me to lower my gaze. My attention is caught by the black couch that covers his arms in places, and I feel the ground shift out from under my feet as my attention is fully caught by a patch of color that covers part of his forearm. I moisten my lips as I outline the lilac blossoms with my eyes, feeling for the thousandth time breathless in his presence.
I blink often, and turn my gaze back to him, realizing he is already watching me. Fragments of last night rewind in my mind, making my heart skip a beat.
— Eternal love or eternal death? I ask suddenly, without thinking too much.
He looks at me puzzled.
— The lilac. In Europe it's considered the flower of eternity. To some it means eternal love, to others it means the eternity of death, I say somewhat absently, referring to the tattoo that hugs its skin.
— What do you think it means to me? Love or death? He looks at me from under my eyelashes, seeming interested in what I'm thinking.
— The eternity of death... I suddenly raise my head, meeting his gaze. The white lilac signifies innocence, purity... first love, eternal love, and the dark purple lilac signifies spirituality, mystery, death.
I'm amazed when a smile blooms on her face and she nods slightly. But I can't tell if he's surprised or amused by my response.
— Have you made a habit of underestimating people? He arches his eyebrows quizzically, referring to the line I gave him the other night.
— Oh! I beg your pardon, Mr. Know-it-all! I chuckle genuinely amused, rolling my eyes, slightly irritated by his retort.
The smile fades from my face as he strides two steps in front of me. I swallow dryly when he leans down to whisper in my ear, and a few stubborn strands of ebony caress my face.
— Mariposita, I may not know many things, but I know one thing for sure. If you had been in my house, and not Dima's, no one, but absolutely no one, would have dared to look in your direction at this moment, and if they had, you would have been the last thing they would have seen, his hot breath hits my skin, chilling me.
My heart starts pounding madly in my chest, and I suddenly realize that the man in front of me knows absolutely nothing about me.
I look at him with undisguised curiosity as he moves back, averting his face from mine. I snort slightly amused when his gaze falls on my body and I shake my head in denial under his burning gaze.
— You see, the difference between you and me is that I rely on evidence when I 'underestimate' someone, but you... comandante, I tilt my head to one side, pursing my lips into a straight line.
— Comandante?! Are you sure you don't have misinformation? he asks surprised, chuckling slightly. My name is Enzo, Enzo Martelli, his voice sounds like an enticing whisper.
- Well, Enzo, it was nice to meet you, but now I have to hide behind walls, lest you be the unfortunate one who dared to look in my direction.
I bite my lower lip to stop the giggles from rolling off my lips at the look of astonishment crossing his face. I turn my back on him without warning, arriving a few steps in front of the door. I stop with my hand on the doorknob when his voice is heard again, causing me to turn to face him to look at him.
— I would say the same, but you neglected to tell me what your name is, a genuine smile blooms on his face as his gaze probes me curiously. You're not going to tell me your name, are you? He leans his head back slightly, half-middling his eyes.
— That's right, I murmur, glancing briefly at the front door.
— Why? he frowns for a few seconds.
— I don't think it's unCaesar to know my name, I answer simply.
I turn my head to one side just in time to catch the expression crossing his face. He chuckles in amusement at my behavior, shaking his head slightly in denial, apparently not believing that I'm playing with him.
— But I want to know who is the stranger whose face I will see for the last time! she shouts behind me as I turn my back again.
— Your neighbor, apparently... I mutter in a half-voice, just loud enough that she can hear me before I hide behind the wooden door.
The door closes behind me with a soft thud, bringing me to my senses. I bite my lips hard, and shake my head in denial, not believing what just happened. My gaze falls on the black envelope I'm still holding in my hand and my heart clenches.
I almost run for the stairs with only one thought in my mind.
I detect the danger from hundreds of feet away, and it exudes annoyingly much danger and mystery. A sweet, tantalizing danger that lures you in and a mystery that makes you want to know all its mysteries, and that's exactly what I intend to do.
A thousand thoughts race through my mind as I make my way towards the library, soon taking shelter in the shade of the thousands of books. I fix my eyes on the desk in the middle of the room and swallow dryly as I reach it. I drop the few envelopes onto the cool wood and fix my gaze on the modestly sized screen that lights up in a few moments, seemingly urging me to avail myself of the information that technology holds.
I almost laugh at the thought that twenty minutes ago I was prepared to lecture Olivia about her bad habit of breaking the law, and now I'm about to do the same.
It may not be ethical, and it certainly isn't legal, but I have no regrets as I type those two words.
Enzo Martelli.