TERRIFYING

"Yeah I can cook.... don't think I'm the best cook but I'm still alive aren't I?"
I grimaced up at his perfect face. "I seriously hope you aren't talking about boiling eyes and making toast."
"Seriously I don't know how to boil an egg...I've tried it twice and the york is still raw every time"
He laughed and I stopped short. I was about to laugh as well but at the sound of his voice I lost my resolve. My eyebrows shot up — I wasn't expecting his laughter to fill my heart with so much warmth.
I looked away from him, out the windshield, Zoe was looking at the car with impatience. I sighed, she was a reminder that Roman would soon leave.
"You're sad," he said, his voice concerned, a different sadness covering his face.
"You're about to leave," I mumbled, my heart crashing against my chest.
"Yeah." He seemed just as disappointed as I was. He held my gaze for a moment longer than usual. "I guess I could just stay here and wait."
"Right!" I chuckled. My laugh was cut short by the look on Roman's face. "As if I could concentrate with you here!"
"You won't even see me," he assured me.
"Really?" My voice was ice cold. "It's not like you're invincible, but... I know you won't believe me but — my body becomes aware of you way before my other senses pick up on you."
His eyes tightened at my tone. "If you don't want me to leave and you don't want me to stay..."
"If I don't want you to do either of those things...?" My heart rate quickened. I was already thinking of another way to make this work, hoping it was the same direction his thoughts had turned.
He laughed. "What do you want me to do then?"
I let out a shaky breath. "I can't really expect you to sit in your car until I'm done with school, so I guess... You can leave."
How could I tell him I wanted to skip school and spend the whole day with him instead.
"Are those your friends?" He asked, frowning up at Zoe and Harry in distaste.
"Yes."
"They seem... outgoing. Extroverts. The total opposite of you. Do you have any common interests with them?" His curiosity was genuine.
"Melissa is cool, I like her a lot. That's Zoe... she's quite a character, but she's a nice... person to know."
"When is your birthday?" He asked randomly, there was a strange glint in his eyes.
"December tenth."
He held my hand with a sudden jerk of the hand and I noticed he was shaking, I looked up, apprehensive, afraid I might have said something that upset him, and sure enough he was angry. But the anger seemed, distant, as though he was thinking about something.
My gaze fell on his hand, holding mine in a tight grip. I touched his cheek with my palm and he closed his eyes, leaning into my touch. The violent tremors subsiding.
When he opened his eyes the menace was gone. His eyes were soft when they fell on me.
He gazed out of the window into the sea of cars. The minutes passed. He sighed, and then looked at my face, apprehensive.
"My sudden change in moods must confuse you?"
I took a sharp intake of breath, surprised by the sudden turn our conversation had taken, from the light, buoyant humor, to the serious, grave atmosphere.
"Anton... might have mention you have — had anger management issues and that you got help."
He glanced into the now crowded parking lot and often stole glances at me through the corner of his eyes.
"You're so diplomatic about it." he paused and a few seconds passed before he spoke again, he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "I saw someone, a Dr. Hayes, a professional, but that didn't help me much, I think."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm an angry man, Nuru" — his jaw turned to an angry set, his eyes were a sly dart to my face and then fixed on the parking lot, again — "My father was a weak man. My mother cheated on him, she was abusive. She hated men. She hated me. She used violence as a defence mechanism. She had a rough childhood and her father before that. It was a generational cycle. One I was hoping to break."
"Kate...?"
"No. My biological parents."
He slipped his hand from my limp grip and curled it around the side of my neck. He held me as if I was fragile. I was breathless.
"I was angry at my father for staying with her, for loving her so blindly. I was angry at her for treating us so horribly. For cheating on my father. Angry that dad learned to live with it. Chose to deal with it.
"See, I grew up witnessing violence everyday" — his other hand swept loose strands behind my ear, every few seconds — "So, it doesn't matter, really, how many professionals I see. I'm still this bitter, hostile, furious boy who built this wall, who vowed never to be like his father and I've just realized that on leaning away from my dad, I'm desperately becoming an angrier version of my mother. And with that I've also realized that it'll take a whole lot more than just talking to a stranger to unlearn everything I've ever known to be normal."
He paused for a second, to look into my eyes with pointed intensity and then he half-smiled, shaking his head.
I frowned, confused, wondering where his thoughts had led him.
"I'm scared most of the time Nuru, scared that I'm no better than my mother and the very thought that I might become like my father... weak — terrifies me. You terrify me."
"Why?"
He shook his head angrily. "I want to stay away from you — I should be able to stay away from you — but then, you're this calm, ice water, slow to anger. The opposite of me. Somehow you're the only person who can distinguish the raging fire inside me, who can tame the beast within."
Suddenly he looked up, into my eyes, his eyes full of questions, surely he heard the uneven pounding of my heart.