Lilac's Lies

32

There are different types of silence.

There are comfortable silences, like the married couple who don't need to say anything at dinner. There are uncomfortable silences, like when you're painfully searching for something to say in your mind. There are awkward silences, like when you tried to make a joke but failed miserably. There are painful silences, like after you've been told your loved one is dead.

There are so many types of silences, yet I couldn't think of single one that could be used to describe the silence right now. The silence between Roman and I.

The silence that started when I refused to answer his question about Jesse. The silence that I kept when I nodded that I wanted him to take me to his apartment. And the silence that didn't break the entire car ride there.

Roman placed his hand on my back again, once I stepped out of his car. Just like he had when we left from the party. My mind was still quite a busy place, all the shelves inside were occupied by thoughts of what happened tonight. Yet, somehow, my mind still had space enough to focus on the way his fingers were touching me. Even though, they weren't really touching me, they were touching his own hoodie that I was still wearing.

Roman led me into the lavish building, only nodding towards the doorman in acknowledgement. He led me towards the elevator, stepping aside for me to enter once the doors opened. Once those same doors closed, however, that's when you could really begin to feel the silence again.

You know how in every single romance novel, and every single steamy love movie, they talk about the tension in the elevator? I've always thought that was a load of bullshit. I've never been pulled to someone just because we were in an elevator. Hell, even the last time I was on this elevator with Roman, nothing. Yet, for some reason, as we were forced together in this tiny metal box, I could feel the way he was looking at me.

Like his eyes were leaving their own touch on my skin, I couldn't ignore it any longer. I brought my gaze up, meeting his. He didn't avert his eyes, or shy away from the direct eye contact. Those blue eyes that I remembered so vividly, they didn't move an inch. So, we stared. We looked into each other's eyes as the elevator flew through the air, and I wondered what he was thinking about? What was going through his mind as he looked at me, so intensely that I swear he could see right through me.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked him, the words slipping out of my mouth before I can even stop them.

"I'm thinking about you," Roman told me without skipping a beat.

I nodded, feeling a resurgence of those feelings I felt in his apartment yesterday, you know... the ones I got right before I attacked him with my mouth.

"What are you thinking about?" Roman asked me, not breaking eye contact for even a split second.

"I'm thinking about you," I parroted his words, because it was the truth. I was thinking about Roman, and I was actively thinking about him. Yet now, I wasn't only actively thinking about him, I was actively remembering the way his lips felt when they were pressed against mine.

Roman didn't nod like I did, he didn't smile, he didn't chuckle. He simply continued to stare at me, those dangerous eyes asking all of the questions his mouth wasn't saying.

Even when the elevator dinged, and those steel doors opened, we still stared. Our eyes remaining connected like an invisible bridge was suspended between them. Even when the doors started to close on themselves, we still stared. Until Roman's hand extended out, blocking them from closing completely.

Once the moment was broken, the silence returned. It was silent as we walked into the dark apartment, and it was silent as I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, waiting as he turned on all of the lights.