What could have been.

- Chapter 25 -

We've both shed a layer of clothing. My sweater is splayed out across my thighs. His Hoodie is crumpled up on the floor. We're both wearing a white T-shirt. Mine embarrassingly enough has 'Boobs' stitched across it in purple italic font, Whereas, his T-shirt is plain.

The movie finished about a half-hour ago. Cole and I fell into conversation the moment the ending credits started. I quizzed him further on his opinion on the movie, feeling smug he went on to illiterate his theory on thriller movies to me. Teasing him, I downplayed his suspicions on the movie's plot by arguing he'd obviously seen it before. In our heated exchange, I managed to find out his surname when I proposed maybe becoming a movie critic should be his chosen profession. "Cole -" I blinked, waiting for him to spill his surname so that I can continue my point. "Reid." He laughed out.

Like Spencer Reid from criminal minds. Of course his surname is the same as my favourite character.

"Why a red butterfly tattoo?" He asks, raising his chin in the direction of my left arm. I've scanned his body for tattoos on multiple occasions, especially at this moment with the intention of redirecting his question but I can't see any. He lifts his right leg onto the sofa, tucking his ankle under his left thigh. He settles into the sofa so that his back is resting on the armrest and his facing me.

"I like butterflies." I pause, "Have you got any-"

"-why a red one?" Jesus. Can he lay off on the questions regarding my tattoo? He stares at me. He's waiting for a response, one I've not practised. Unrehearsed on what to say, I begin my explanation. "I like that a butterfly was once a caterpillar." He's still staring. He wants more. "They were one thing and then they become another. I find it quite alluring. And I like the colour red." Would you know it, he's still staring. It's like his communicating for me to continue without verbalising it to me in any way. I mean there is more to it, but he doesn't know that. I continue, "Again, I like the idea that red can mean more than one thing. It can be anger, passion, love, pain. They're both more than one thing. They're seen differently depending on who's looking." His eyes no longer bore into me, instead, they're down at his hands.

"Is it the same for you?" He's playing with his rings. I've noticed that he's always wearing a silver ring that's engraved with an image of what I think is a fish, on his index finger. His other two rings that he wears occasionally on his pinkie or ring finger are plain silver band rings.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you want to be more?" Yes, that's what I want to say. I no longer want to be the girl that overdosed at a party. I want to be a normal student. I want to be more than who I'm perceived to be.

"Perhaps," is what I say, coyly. I try to disguise my misery. 

"You're a caterpillar wishing to become a butterfly."

I arch my brow. "Are you using my symbolism against me?"

"You're already enough." His tone has changed, it's deepened. Goosebumps spread over every inch of my body like wildfire. The urge to throw my jumper back on is disrupted by his words. "I think so, anyway." His words have taken me off guard. I don't know how to respond.

I shift anxiously, moving my body further away from his. The sofa that usually fits three even four bodies, can barely separate ours. "Thanks," I say barely audible.

I stifle a laugh when he readjusts himself and knocks a glass on the floor over with his foot. His arms reach down frantically, forgetting that it's empty. He looks back up at me shyly. 

"That was 100% intentional." He's humouring me and I'm glad. The mood has lightened, thankfully. Looking back on it, every moment I've shared with him has been intense. From the moment we met, in the middle of a fight when he found me crawling away, maybe not very intense in that case but a little unconventional. Him again, finding me in the middle of a fight outside Bruno's. And, the fight with Vince. Perhaps, intense isn't the right word to describe us considering our pattern is meeting each other near or being a part of a fight. Maybe, violent? Slightly, aggressive way to describe us. I'll just stick to unconventional and intense. My nervousness on what to say immediately vanishes.