Later that day, I was lying in bed, surfing through Instagram and Uni's forum. Pictures from Uni Day were still exploding everywhere. Especially Senior Aylwin's song, which was an unexpected performance. Without a doubt, Uni Day was a rousing success. For several weeks, it was the talk of the town.

My gaze strayed upon none other than the guy who was ruling hundreds of hearts at the moment. And I was ruling his.

He approached me, clad in a white sleeveless tee and black slacks. His hair was disheveled and somewhat damp from the shower. The fabric adhered to his body like a sheath of second skin. He made himself at ease next to me, handing me a cup of steaming coffee as I thanked him.

"Ethel called." He began, "He'd be staying at Charlotte's tonight."

"Oh." That was all I could muster. My thoughts were racing. I had a plethora of questions to ask him. The questions that needed to be asked right away.

"Ask away, Fresher." His rich voice drew me back in. His minty breath was fanning around my neck as I felt his fingers slowly stroking my nape. The hairs on my skin buzzed with the sudden gesture. The toe-curling sensation left me hot and bothered, wanting the essence to last for eternity.

At that point, the fact wasn't startling to me; rather, I'd say, it was gratifying and heartening to know that someone was aware of my worries, even in my serene silence.

I dropped the first question bomb at him, "Who are Jennifer and Lance Eldred?"

I anticipated a reaction from him. At the very least, a dilation of the pupils or a change in facial expression, but alas! It was all for naught. He remained the same. Passive with a poker face. As though he was cognizant of my question. He knew that I'd definitely ask him. And, to be honest, I would have undoubtedly inquired about the truth behind those names. However, we were both in the heat of the moment last night, which wasn't the ideal time for such matters.

Just near his heart was a tattoo of two magnificent feathers, nurtured in the nostalgic hues of baby purple with a scarlet undertone, as they curled around the ridges of his chest temptingly, guarding a name, "Lance Eldred," inked with a precise date in the rage of red hues. It looked painful and vicious, but most crucially, concealed within the curtains of confinement.

Another tattoo of a dancing girl with petal-like layers floating about her frame was embellished in the darkness of black ink seeping into his white tanned skin with the name "Jennifer" engraved along with something in Arabic calligraphy.

"Jennifer Eldred is my mother." Just then, I realized that I didn't know anything about his family. I'd been too busy with my own life to even ask him about his.

'Is.' I heaved a sigh of relief.

"What do the Arabic texts near her name mean?"

He exhaled softly, whispering ever so delicately, as though being carried away by the tides of nostalgia. "Broken beauty."

"Broken beauty? Why did ya give her that title? " I rested my head on his shoulder, our fingers intertwined. Soft calloused fingers clasped tiny-dainty ones. His thumb gingerly stroked my fingers. A devious game of pleasure and patience.

"My mother hailed from a very conservative family, where at each and every step it was about rules and regulations. Being the eldest and only daughter, she had to abide by everyone's words and go on with that. She was never given her own choices. Under the shade of responsibilities and her own ambitions, she was crumpled by societal thoughts. " I straightened up, firmly gazing at him. His expression did not waver a bit. Voice still intact.

He went on, saying, "I remember the times, as a child, when she would recite a part of her life to Almer and me as a bedtime story. We'd fall asleep on her lap as she would lovingly caress our hair. " He sipped his coffee and then resumed with a sigh after throwing a brief glance my way.

He got up and walked up to the window, peering out. The way he gazed into the night sky, tracing the contours of its celestial, got me wondering whether he was a nyctophile. He glanced at me as he took a sip of his coffee before continuing with another exhale.

"She had a passion for the law. She was determined to pursue it at all costs. Whereas her parents were against it, they wanted to marry her off to some rich businessman. If they were so insistent about it, she was no exception. The woman was stubborn as heck. Thus, she kept it secret. Never sharing her ambitions and thoughts with anyone. Somehow, after lots of fighting and argument, she was allowed to go to the Law College in California with the condition that as soon as her studies were completed, she'd be married. "

I slowly approached, noticing the shift in his demeanor. A slight waver in his deep voice. Wrapping my arms around his torso, I rested my head against his toned back. I could make out the ripples of muscles and the cutouts of his bones. I slightly nuzzled my head in his soft fabric, savoring the moment.

"Go on." I encouraged him.

"That didn't stop her either. After completing her studies there, she stayed back there and worked as an intern. That's when she fell in love with one of her colleague."

He fell into a deep thought. The coffee mug remained touched by his lips as he gazed lazily. A mischief invasion of boketto. After a few minutes of silence and wandering thoughts, I eventually heard him exhale.

"Let's just say things didn't work out between them as planned and she was heartbroken and depressed for a while. That's when her parents called her back and announced the news of her marriage."

I adjusted myself properly, closing my eyes as I listened to him. The very little movement his breathing form made.

"She was already going through hell. Her career was at stake. While she was still coping with her past, she agreed to honor her promise and her parents. Not that she even had a choice. And that's how she married my dad." A clear evidence of a strong woman. No wonder her son was so tolerant and resistant to his surroundings. The strength with which he carried himself was a pure depiction of his mother's assets.

When all I heard for the following several minutes was silence, I partly fluttered my eyes, catching a glimpse of him. He took a long swig of his coffee while mindlessly grazing the cup handle. His eyes were still somewhere in the distance. Lost and unwavering. Hawk-like eyes soaked in the shades of shimmering hues that the sky devoured itself with.

Regal.

"Senior?" I whispered meekly, resting my chin against his stiff back and gingerly caressing the tattooed flesh. Feeling its existence beneath my flesh. That roused him from his stupor.

"My dad was hemophilic." Another piece of information. My jaw slightly dropped as I took in this brand-new information. His voice was barely above a whisper. Alas, I allowed him to take his time.

After a few sickeningly silent moments, he reluctantly said, "Ma was always overly protective of him, making sure he was safe. I've witnessed her struggle throughout her life, alongside my dad. Always making sure we're alright. When she learnt that Alana was hemophilic as well, that was it. She was devastated. She quit working."

I didn't say anything. Words were something I avoided at all costs in such situations. Such situations were not really my cup of tea. So I went to listen to him after another lengthy pause.

"She gave her entire being—her life, her time, everything—to her husband, her children, and her family. Her cries of the night weren't deaf to my ears. However, the child in me was too young to fathom the anguish she endured with each and every breath. So, for me, she indeed is a broken beauty."

The Aylwin Eldred, whose convoluted words had always hypnotized me, was then beseeching for simple words. Simplicity gushed from his lips, tangled up in his words, mirroring the nostalgia of his thoughts. The way he spoke about his mother in simple yet selected words unveiled another side of him to me. It introduced me to a guy who wasn't Aylwin Eldred, nor was he the man who risked his life for pleasure. Neither the one who always had a poker face on. No. He was the guy who was solely a mama's boy, who was tucked away within, suppressed by the superficial sentiments that slowly slipped away. His words were oozing with tenderness, candor, love, and nostalgia. The way he coated his words solemnly without an ounce of trepidation or stutter just concluded how much he respected his mother. The act of benevolent bondage brewed beautifully.

"Wow! That is the longest you have ever spoken. " I felt his fingers enveloping mine as he grasped my hand and brought me face-to-face. His hands ultimately got chained to my waist, while mine rested on his chiseled chest. A torrent of warmth burst within us, drenching me.

I melted in his arms, smiling. "You define her a lot, you know. I really want to meet her. "

"Umm... can I ask another question?" I peered at him through my lashes, only to catch him staring at me intensely.

"Mhm." My ears pressed against his rhythmic beating heart, his heartbeat mirrored mine in sync.

"What's that date about?" For a scintilla of a second, I felt his rhythmic beats fluctuate. A sudden change in the lub-dub rhythms.

"18. 12. 2016. The day my dad passed away. " His whisper-like voice faltered and faded away as the kingdom of stillness swiftly seized us, negligently.

"Um... actually, Ethel told me." I whispered back, after considerable deliberation and strife.

"Why did you move from New Jersey to New York?" In an endeavor to lighten the mood, I changed the topic.

"For change." His monotonous reply did no good to me. Instead, it provoked a flurry of lingering questions.

"Or running away?" I retorted with a fierce rejoinder.

"Perhaps I'm still being chased away." Yet another obscure reply. Chased away? By whom? What the hell was the meaning of the game of running and chasing?

"And here I thought, you loved risk. You race with them. " I caressed his cheekbones, tenderly, sensuously, grazing them down his angular jawline. I knew I had his full, undivided attention. Hawk-like gaze fastened on me with intense emotions blazing brazenly. He scrutinized every movement I made while I was too absorbed in exploring the splendor of the universe.

"Only when the cost is my life." My fingers froze halfway through. His words exasperated me. It infuriated me.

"Don't you value your life? Do you think your life is so cheap? To be wasted by petty risks? " I chastised him, confronting his actions and awaiting a firm answer.

However, all I received in return were ripples of amusement playing hide and seek behind those orbs of crepuscular abyss shaded eloquently in the hues of magnificent blue. His kissable lips tugged faintly, which I could easily have missed had my gaze been drawn to it by chance.

"Calling yourself cheap and petty? The value of my life is unfathomable. Don't make me commit sin by justifying it. " It took me a while for his divine, deep, and profound words to sink in. And the moment it did, all I could do was gawk at him with slightly parted mouth, rogue emotions, and a maelstrom of unspoken returned messages. Basorexia exploded throughout my cells, unleashing an inhumane amount of ludic along with confronting amate. He leaned closer, kissing my lips while I was still dazed.

The quiddity of redamancy elicited selcouth sensations. His laconic words etched themselves within my bosom as it blossomed and burgeoned, blooming brilliantly. I was captured yet again. I stood there, spellbound, staring at his serene stance. How could I forget that the querencia of mine was also my abyssopelagic zone? The calloused hands that worked wonders on my flesh possessed the steely power to consume me totally and utterly.

For the magician has spelled his spells,

And remained we,

Star-struck in the

Nefarious novalunosis of the naïve night.

I relaxed again, reverting to my querencia. His arms tenderly enclosed my body. My mind was whirling with all the information. I was still trying to lap it up. He was opening up to me. The very notion drove ripples of unbridled giddiness flooding through my chest.

"Where have you been for the past two days?" My fingers drew circles on his fabric-clad, sculpted chest. The thin second skin-like fabric was doing nothing more than a good favor to me as my flesh could easily make out all the grooves and cuts of his chest.

"With my ma." A concise response. It certainly didn't satiate my thirst for further information, but somehow it sufficed for the time being. Until then, I let myself loose once again. Lost in thought with the mellifluous music of stillness permeating every crevice and cranny of the room.

"What happened after my accident, Senior? I know you know everything. Tell me, what's going on? " I shot the arrow that I had been storing for quite some time. If I'd already asked far too many of them, why not try my luck with the last one as well?

When he didn't respond for a good five minutes, I was dismayed. I imagined him changing the topic, but my mirror of illusion broke along with his silence. "Austin saw someone pushing you off the ramp. That's it. "

"Really? That's it?" He couldn't be that evasive. I needed to know about my accident. What happened then? Who was behind it? I was hoping that it wasn't the ones I was thinking of. I was afraid about whether he knew anything about those bloody, gruesome letters and shitty parcel I had received a month ago.

"You ask lots of questions, don't ya?" He asked with an arched brow and a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

I smiled at him, acknowledging his act of denial. "Back to dodging, aren't ya?" His features morphed back to emotionlessness. A terrific exhibition of poker face. When his lips gave up on moving and silence was all he could offer me, I sighed.

"Can ya blame me, eh?" I whispered softly, maintaining the battle of the dark oceans against hazelnut.

"There's nothing to be worried about." He cocooned me, his tall, towering self perfectly securing my own petite one.

"One day, Fresher." His lips grazed my head. The sensation left me craving more. It was relishing. Reviving. Luxurious.

"One day." Incandescent rays of appetence bedazzled my bosom with vivacious warmth. I trusted him. I trusted him with all my heart. So I obeyed his words, and he lulled me back to the world of tranquility with his beating heart as a messenger of the night.

For we were the amorist of each other,

Painted in the coccineous shades of intimacy.