We Never Happened

Jasmine

Two years. That's how long Sloan had been a silent enigma in my life. In that time, not once had he uttered a single word to me. It was as if he existed in a parallel universe, always present yet perpetually distant.

Since the night I ended things with Rico, Sloan had become a familiar presence in my father's cartel. I soon deduced that he worked for my father, but there was something about him that I couldn't quite grasp. Whenever he was nearby, I felt a strange sensation—a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, like encountering something both foreign and familiar. To be honest, I was scared then and I'm scared now.

Despite my efforts to engage him in conversation, Sloan remained resolutely silent, as if I were invisible to him. It was unnerving, to say the least. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye, something lurking beneath the surface that I couldn't quite decipher.Sloan was a mystery, and his silence only served to heighten the intrigue surrounding him. Humans fear what they don't understand, and Sloan was the epitome of the unknown—a puzzle waiting to be solved, a secret waiting to be uncovered.

He stood on the balcony's edge, a solitary figure in the dim light, his presence both imposing and mysterious. Ignoring the world around him, he withdrew a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, the flicker of the lighter casting an ethereal glow on his features. He was an occasional smoker, yet there was an intensity in the way he indulged, as if each drag held a secret he couldn't bear to share.

I often wondered why he smoked so fervently, knowing full well the toll it would take on his health. It was a challenge of sorts, a silent invitation to unravel the enigma that was Sloan. All I knew about him was his name, and yet I longed to know more, to peel back the layers of mystery that surrounded him.

With measured breaths, he took three deliberate drags of his cigarette before pausing, his gaze fixed on some unseen horizon. Time seemed to stand still as he stood there, lost in thought. Then, with a decisive step back from the edge, he turned towards me, his gray eyes piercing through the darkness with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.My body tensed involuntarily, my heart racing as he approached. Why was he coming over here? The question echoed in my mind, anticipation mingling with apprehension as I awaited his arrival.

As he stood before me, the air crackled with anticipation, a palpable tension hanging between us like a veil of mystery. With each passing moment, the distance between us narrowed, until he was mere inches away, his presence looming over me in an intoxicating haze.

I seized the opportunity to finally voice the question that had been burning within me, but as I opened my mouth, my words caught in my throat. His blond hair, a stark contrast against the dim light, beckoned my touch, tempting me to run my fingers through its short, buzzed texture. But I resisted, holding myself back as I sat in silence, waiting for his next move.

From this close vantage point, I could see a tattoo peeking out from beneath his collar, its intricate design teasing my curiosity. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't discern the inscriptions clearly, adding to the allure of the mysterious man before me.Every aspect of him intrigued me, from his enigmatic presence to the subtle nuances of his appearance.

Gosh, he's magnificent.

With a gentle gesture, he reached out, as if searching for something in the empty space beside me. Then, with a daring lean forward, he drew closer, closer still, until suddenly, he recoiled as if struck by an invisible force.Fear etched across his features, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. For the first time, I saw a vulnerability in him, a crack in the facade of indifference he typically wore. Whatever had transpired in that moment had left him shaken, like he did something he shouldn't have.

He turned and made a move to leave but before he could walk out I was on my feet, "Don't go," I pleaded , tired of his constant avoidance, "Please." My voice barely a whisper.

His halted, his back was turned to me, "Today was a shit show, I could really use the company, I promise I won't bother you or say a word." He stood there for a moment, contemplating, before turning back towards me and walking to where I was and nudged his head in a gesture to get me to sit then he sat beside me.

We sat in silence and for a moment time seemed to stand still and it felt like it was just the two of us.

Because it was really just the two of us.

I took a deep breath, intending to keep quiet as promised, but I couldn't resist the urge to speak, "You have such beautiful eyes." I blurted out,mentally cursing myself.  Beautiful eyes? Seriously, Jasmine, it's like you don't even know how to conversation anymore. Get it together.

I could see him visibly still at my words, I must have made him feel uncomfortable so I tried correct my mistake, but it only got worse.

"Not like your eyes are are your only attractive quality, I mean you've got your hair, jawline,  those lips I know a lot of girls that would want to sit on your face and your hands—"

"Be quiet."  His deep voice resonated, instantly cutting me off from my ramble.

I felt like kicking myself in the shin, could I just stop embarrassing myself in front of him. This was my chance to finally connect with him and I was blowing it.But on the plus side this was the first time he ever said anything to me, sure it was to shut me up but hey, a wins a win. His voice was alluring, like a magnet. Rough yet oddly relaxing.

After a few more minutes of uncomfortable silence, I said, "I'm sorry." I waited for him to say 'it's okay' or 'no worries' but nothing. So like the idiot i am, I took it as an invite to keep talking even though he just told me a few minutes ago to shut it.

"My father drives me crazy." I confessed, the words pouring out in a rush. "It's like he's constantly trying to control my life in a way I don't know, it's always —you could have done this Jasmine,or you could have done that,  it's never—want to you want Jasmine, or do what makes you happy Jasmine. I work so hard to meet his expectations but it just feels like I'm never doing enough. I remember this one time..." I'm not sure how long I talked but it didn't seem to bother him, he hadn't uttered a word in response.

If I'm being honest, it stung to know he wasn't listening , but at least I could vent. I didn't even care if that he might tell me dad , I just needed to talk to someone.

"What the actual fuck are you doing here," I looked up to see my stepbrother, Rafael, his expression clouded with anger.

I rolled my eyes at him, annoyed by his interruption. "Rafael, now is not the time—"

"I wasn't talking to you, Jas" He snapped, cutting me off instantly, his attention fixed on Sloan, he gritted out, "You're asking for a death wish, Sloan."

"Been asking for it a long time now." Sloan retorted, his response dripped with sarcasm. I didn't even know he was capable of sounding sarcastic.

Rafael's rage intensified, his body trembling with fury. He inherited his anger from our dearest father.  I couldn't fathom why he was getting worked up about Sloan merely talking to me. It's not like he caught us in an intimate moment.

His gaze still piercing Sloan he said, "Jasmine, leave us."

He's not the boss of me. Ignoring Rafael's demand, I started to interject, but Sloan's voice stopped me.

"Jasmine," Sloan said, staring off at a distant, "just go." his tone was pleading. My name sounded so ethereal against his lips, his voice wrapped around my name like a caress and I try to ignore the warmth in my belly.

I nodded and rose to my feet, deliberately bumping my shoulders against Rafael as I walked past him, which earned me a lethal glare. He'll regret this.

Before leaving the balcony, I stole one last glance at Sloan, his presence lingering in the air like an echo. I held his lighter close to my chest,praying that he doesn't find out that I took it.