XL
Even though he's much less nervous than he was before, I can still see the tension in him as he drives us to some restaurant.
"Some day I will leave this town and go somewhere nice and warm and not as much of a shithole as this." he says while driving.
"Maybe somewhere where there's a nice, beautiful beach." I continue with his fantasizing. "I would take a walk every morning with the dog I would have and just watch the waves, washing away everything that happened yesterday."
I glances at me and slowly starts to nod.
"But not somewhere too crowded, just better than this shit." he says.
"Yes, I wouldn't like to have too many people around me, either. I could write." I say, deep in my imagination. Walking on the beach, laughing with Axel while a puppy runs around us. I'm wearing a long, grey, cotton cardigan, a white plain shirt and black thighs because the weather isn't so warm anymore. Axel's wearing black sweatpants which hang low on his hips, making him look absolutely delicious, and a white tight shirt through which you can see all of his tattooes.
"You write?" he asks, bringing me out of my day dream.
"A bit, yes. I have periods of time when I write every day and then there are times when I don't write anything for half a year."
"What do you write?"
"Books, but I've never finished one. And poems."
Axel licks his lips. "Tell me a few poems of yours."
I shake my head. "No, they're not good. And they're more of quotes anyway, they're short."
"Okay, so tell me one. Tell me your favourite one."
I bit my lip and look at him, contemplating whether I should or shouldn't.
I have one in mind, the most recent one.
As I watch him driving, his brown curls not falling over his eyes for once because he gelled them, the poem comes out by itself.
"She couldn't understand," I begin, whispering, and gulp, still observing him, "why she found comfort in the dark, when all her life she had a fear of darkness."
He glances at me and I blush, finally looking away from him. He chuckles.
"Is that one about me?" he asks and I shrug.
"I don't know, it really feels like it is but I wrote it before I even met you." I explain.
He purses his lips, deep in thought, and puts his hand on my thigh, over my dress.
"Here we are." Axel says and pulls up in front of a restaurant on the other side of the town. This is the best restaurant in town, where everyone goes on a date because there's no other place around here.
"You deserve better than this place, but you know..."
"It's hours away, I know." I smile. "This is not bad at all, Axel."
He smiles and exists the car. I open my door and go out as well.
"I was supposed to do that." he pouts and I laugh, taking his hand and begin to walk towards the doors of the restaurant.
"I've never been here before." I tell him.
"Me neither." he grins, dimples in his cheeks. "Come."
We enter and go to the employee. He is a young boy with light hair and he smiles at me. "Good evening."
"We have a reservation in the back room." Axel says, pulling me to his side.
"What's your name?" the receptionist asks.
"Jarvis." Axel replies and he nods.
"Come with me."
He leads us with him to the back, where I can see now that there's a private room. It's quite beautiful; the walls are white but there's a lot of flowers, painted on the wall and in the vases.
There's a small chandelier on the ceiling, lighting up the room. In the middle there's a single table with a candle in the middle and for a second I wonder how much this cost Axel.
Axel sits me down on the table and sits down in front of me. This is so nice, him showing so much effort. I never thought anyone would do so much for me.
"I'll bring the wine you ordered, sir, in five minutes and take your order." the waiter smiles and gives us two lists of meals and drinks they have. He leaves after that, leaving me and Axel alone.
"This place is very beautiful." I say and smile.
"I thought you'd like it."
"Yes, I really like flowers." I repeated.
"I noticed the day you spent ten minutes observing my rose tattoo." he says and I laugh.
"Sorry about that." I say, blushing.
"It's no problem."
"So... I can ask anything I'd like, right?" I ask and he nods, hesitantly. I take a deep breath, hoping this won't go too bad. This feels unreal, I'll finally get some answers.
"Where did you go? When you were gone, I mean." I ask and he shuts his eyes closed.
"To Canada." he replies, as if in pain. "I really shouldn't be telling you this."
"But you told me that I can ask anything."
"You can," he says, not waisting a second, "I want you to know this because I want you to trust me, even if I don't know how you'll trust me after this at all.
"I'm just saying that for the... safety reasons it would be better if you didn't know this stuff." he concludes.
"Safety?" I ask and he nods.
"Your safety. I will protect you no matter what, but it still makes me nervous." he clarifies, gulping, his fingers crossed. I consider his explanation for a moment. Would I be in danger or something? What is behind all this? I want to know. No, I need to know.
The waiter comes with our wine and two champagne glasses, pouring our glasses. I make eye contact with Axel.
He's staring straight at me, his expression serious, not to be messed with. I squirm. I notice that it's the red wine he's pouring. Does he know that I'm still underage?
"What would you like to order?" he asks and looks at me. I quckly glance at the list of foods in my hands and pick out the first thing I see.
"Fried calamari with fries and tartar sauce."
He nods and looks at Axel, completely proffesional.
"Same as her." he says and the waiter leaves.
"What were you doing in Canada?" I continue.
»Working." he replies.
"Working?" I ask, confused. He works?
He nods, slowly, as if afraid of the next question. "Yes."
As I observe his body language, I realize that this is what it all must've lead to. The money, the people who beat him up and threathened him, the being able to live by himself, the strange trips. I ask the question, as afraid of the answer as he was of the question.
"What kind of work?"
"You must promise me to not tell anyone about this." he says, with a warning voice. "I am breaking rules by telling you, if anything ever happens you have to act like you don't know anything, okay?"
I glup, simply looking at him.
"Okay?" he repeats, slightly louder.
I nod. "Okay, I promise. Now tell me."
He takes a deep breath, breaking the eye contact and shoulders slumped, almost like he's ashamed. He clenches his arms and hands, fingers still crossed, knockles white, and he speaks with a low, dark voice:"I am a smuggler."