Dust stirs with each of her shallow breath, the ground pressing hard against her ribs.
It... It hurts to breathe.
Her blurred vision settle on the overturned car, grey smoke curling upward.
Limp arm, dripping in blood, hang from the shattered window.
Her fingers twitch, her head throbbing as a sharp ringing pounds through her ears.
She wants to move, to pull them out and save them.
What happened...
She was there, just moments ago,
laughing with her parents, singing along to the music that played in the car.
The air thickens with a nauseating stench of blood and gasoline, when a deafening rumble rips through the stillness.
Glass and metals shatter and twist in the air.
Orange and blue flames surge upward, burning the road flanked by woods.
Heat slams into her, searing through her skin, the relentless roar of fire devouring what's left of her.
Neva gasps awake,
her heart pounding in her ears as the ceiling ripples above her before the pale palette ettles into focus.
She curls onto her side, tugging the duvet up to her throat, seeking warmth that she cannot feel.
The incident from eight years ago still haunts her, returning through
recurring nightmares on unpatterned nights.
She wishes it had vanished, just like the rest of her memories of ten years. Her parents' faces, especially her mother's, are always blurred anyway.
And Neva still wonders why her aunt and uncle only had photographs of her father when he was younger, as there were none of her mother.
She had simply assumed that, somewhere along the way, the families had drifted apart.
But had she really never received any of their belongings after they died?
Her aunt had always said they were lost in a fire.
But she never quite believed her.
Perhaps her aunt had never shared a close relationship with her brother and sister-in-law, yet they still took her in after the incident.
The grief of losing her parents had been sharp and brutal during the initial days.
But as the pages of the years turned, the agony lessened, and only a bearable longing remained.
Still, sometimes, she misses them so much, especially after the first terrors of the nightmare fade away.
Gosh...
A whimper escapes her and she buries her face beneath the duvet.
Her first day of college, and the morning had already begun so terribly.
Now, all she can do is pray to her Father to please... please let today be kind to her.
The sharp chime of her alarm cuts through the hush of her room, and she slips a hand out, feeling for the device before silencing it.
She had set her alarm for six, and after lingering for a moment longer, she rises before she can fall asleep again and makes her bed.
A long, warm bath does enough to soothe the remnants of fear and anxiety within her.
Yet, since it's the first time she's had the nightmare since moving in, and there's no Aunt to comfort her here, her mind remains clouded as she steps out of the bathroom, dabbing her wet hair with a towel.
After prepping her skin for the autumn season and drying her hair with a blow dryer, she leaves it loose and touches up her face with light makeup.
Crossing into her little walk-in closet, she searches for the outfit she had already picked out beforehand.
She tucks her hair behind her ear and puts on a tiny gold earring before considering her outfit in the full-length mirror: a deep-wine milkmaid blouse with lace trim, paired with charcoal-grey flared denim.
Hopefully, it won't be too cold.
It's seven past thirty, and her college starts at ten sharp, so she still has some time left.
Plopping down in her chair,
she studies for a while, until the time reads exactly eight on her slim, gold-bracelet watch.
She says her prayers, snatches up her black handbag, slips into her ankle-length, dark-brown boots, and steps out of her apartment.
The morning chill brushes against her cheeks as she adjusts the leather straps of her bag on her shoulder, carefully descending the stairs.
"Where are you going, Angel?" comes the wind, carrying his voice.
Swaying slightly, she turns just enough to catch a glimpse of the mysterious man.
The... mysterious man.
The mysterious man?!
He lingers in the apartment's balcony corridor, leaning against the railings, his forearms resting upon them.
A sheepish grin plays across his oh-so-handsome face.
Heat floods her cheeks as the memories come rushing back... their first meeting, the absurd proposal, his following her around everywhere, and the fact that she nearly called the cops on him.
Neva turns away, her heart hammering so hard she can almost feel it leap out of her chest.
She starts forward, her steps shallow and subconscious, almost as though she's floating in the air.
Why now?!
It's been a whole week since she last saw him, and the seven days passed much like the ones before, except
for the embarrassment that had her shrieking into her pillows or covering her face with her hands or a book whenever she recalled accusing him of stalking her.
She could have gone her whole life without seeing him again, yet sometimes she found herself glancing towards his apartment door.
Not because she missed him!
But just to check whether she could avoid stumbling upon him. Just that. Of course.
She squeezes her eyes shut as fresh mortification washes over her again.
Dear Father, why?
Her spine straightens as light footsteps draw nearer, until his warmth blooms behind her.
The next thing she knows, he steps in front of her, blocking her way.
She goes still, lifting her eyes to meet his.
He leans in, his voice dropping to a murmur. "I asked you something, Angel..."
"U... University—" she whispers unconsciously.
He parts his lips in a silent oh.
Pressing her lips together, she steps aside.
Her hands curl around the straps of her handbag as light footsteps trail behind her once more.
He falls into step beside her just as she passes through the gates and onto the sidewalk.
She pretends he isn't there, quietly trying to steady her breathing.
Then she tries to focus on the cool, shadowed stretch of the sidewalk and the shafts of sunlight slipping through the trees, warming her for the briefest of moments...
But the faint woody scent of the mysterious man walking beside her makes it impossible.
No one, not a soul passes by.
It's just him and her walking like they have known each other for forever.
"Why are you walking with me?" she whispers.
"Hmm?" he says.
She glances at him for the briefest moment before looking away, though not before catching the faint smile playing on his lips.
"Why, you ask?" A pause hangs between them.
"What kind of man would I be,
if I don't escort the woman I'm dying to court?"
"You can't be serious," she says.
"But I am." His tone is soft, light.
Then he pauses for a second, a hint of surprise flickering in his voice. "You don't think I am?"
"No," she replies curtly.
"Oh..." He nods slowly, as if the realization is only dawning on him.
"Then how should I make you believe," he adds, "that I do, in fact, really want you."
Gosh... Gosh!
Can he stop?
He's so infuriatingly casual, almost diasarmingly upfront!
"Do we start by getting to know each other—oh, wait—" He cuts himself off with a soft laugh.
"I never even asked your name, did I, Angel?"
Neva huffs. How dare he?!
"I'm not telling you." She keeps her gaze fixed ahead as the path leads them towards the quiet, town-like heart of Vernellia.
"Then would you prefer if I found out on my own?" he teases.
"Follow you around, all day... maybe even sit with you during the lectures?"
Neva whips her head toward him. "You can't do that!"
"Oh, I sure can." A grin tugs at his lips as he slips his hands inside the pocket of his oversized black leather jacket.
She presses her lips together, her nose flaring.
"Neva." She surrenders her name.
"What a beautiful name," he murmurs.
"Will you leave me alone now?" She glances at him.
He squints, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his eyes. "I never said anything
about not walking you to your college."
Neva plants her foot firmly on the ground.
Her chest swells with absolute frustration.
And there, just ahead, the soft yellow glow of a sign catches her eye.
Bournville Bakery & Café.
A shame, truly, one of her favourite places, and yet the setting of their second encounter on that crazy day.