18
-Chandler was, regrettably, a very good singer. He favored classic rock and alternative as his music of choice, and it took everything in Elena not to jam her fingers in her ears as he sang along. His voice was low and smooth without frills or fancy embellishments, but it made the hair on the back of her neck rise, and therefore, she didn’t like it.
-He was also freaking relentless in trying to engage her in conversation even though she was doing her very best at ignoring his existence until she had no other choice. It took until the last forty five minutes of their drive before she finally cracked and started to really talk to him.
“So, love, when did we start dating?”
Ignoring the unsteady gallop of her heart, Elena had kept her voice even and emotionless every time he asked her something that she felt forced to answer. This time she didn’t do so well.
“What?” she asked, as her eyes widened.
Chandler grinned, but he wasn’t looking at her. He’d been thinking of something to say that would really get her attention, and now it seemed like he’d finally gotten it.
“At the party,” he explained as if he was saying the most normal thing, “people might want to know how we met…How we started dating,”
“But we’re not dating,” Elena told him.
“But what if we told them that we are…”
“No”
“Fine. We are not dating,” he shrugged.
“And we’re not telling people that we are,” Elena added, giving him a serious look so he’d know she wasn’t kidding. He nodded, but he wasn’t done with her yet.
“Fine, we won’t tell people we’re dating,” he said, and stroked his jawline with a finger, “but if we were, I’d imagine I’d tell people that we met… Ermmm… Let’s say…. six months ago.” Elena said nothing, and two songs later-songs he knew the harmony to-he tried again. “So back to my story…. ”
Tearing her eyes away from the window, Elena begrudgingly let her gaze turn in his direction. Which was a mistake, because Chandler, in the tux, with that scenery and that dark hair along his jaw, was like something ripped out of Rugged Man Magazine, and she was not here for that. Not here for it.
At all.
He gestured back and forth between them when she didn’t say anything. “I mean our made up dating story. If we met six months ago, then how did we start dating”
Elena’s mouth fell open. “I-I don’t know. Does it matter? It’s not even real.”
Chandler’s shrug was careless. “Yeah, I know that, but I’m trying to make small talk. If I’m not with you in real life, it doesn’t mean I can’t be with you in fantasy land. I’m having fun with my fantasies, Elena, so maybe you can just go with the flow.”
Elena studied him for a while, then she gave in. “Fine,” she hedged, “We’re in your weird fantasy land, and we are dating. I guess maybe you and I just … I don’t know… found ourselves in a relationship after a while”
Swallowing, he nodded. “Right. But don’t you think the story needs more…. Details? People don’t just… wake up one day and find themselves in relationships. I mean, there must have been one moment,” he said. “Maybe you were spending the night at my place.”
Elena closed her eyes. She didn’t want to play this game with him. Didn’t want to imagine whatever he had in his head because it was probably vivid. She shook her head, “No.” She said,
But Chandler went on, “Fine…. Maybe I was spending the night at your place instead.” He tapped his thumb on the wheel, and the lights glinted off the solid silver ring he was wearing. “You couldn’t sleep, so I found you in the kitchen, staring into the fridge.”
Carefully, Elena tucked her knees together and hugged her arms around her body. She didn’t want to imagine this. Her safe choice of going along with his fantasy didn’t feel so safe anymore.
“No one would believe this story even if it was real,” she said quietly.
Chandler ignored her. “Maybe you offered me a drink because you were going to have one. One turned to two. Just enough that you were willing to lower your defenses around me, love. First time you ever did that, I’m thinking.”
Elena raised an eyebrow. “Taking advantage, are we?”she asked.
“Hell no. We were relaxed. Not drunk. I don’t sleep with drunk women because trust me, that’s a whole different world of trouble when you wake up the next morning.”
“This story is leading to all sorts of romantic places.”
He grinned. “In my mind, you grabbed me and planted that first kiss on my very unsuspecting lips. A hot kiss too.”
Elena rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were flaming. “Of course, that’s how it would work in your head.”
Chandler licked his lower lip. “You tasted like cherries. After that, I was all but whipped. I was yours to command, and I’ve never looked back.”
Turning her face back to the window, Elena tried some deep breathing exercises. Her heart was racing terribly. “Well it’s a good thing no one will be asking us such questions because your story is ridiculous.”
He laughed. “It’s not ridiculous.”
“It sure sounds like it is,” she muttered under her breath.
Oh, he heard her, and he thought that was hilarious. “You know, I like it when you’re around me, Elena.”© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.
No, no she would not feel a flush of warm, gooey happiness at that statement. When you were a twin, particularly an identical twin, there was a strange emotional tangle that went along with it. Inevitably, you’re linked with that person for the rest of your life. In a lot of people’s eyes, you come as a package deal. Friends in high school and even early college when they lived in the dorms were shocked if only one of them showed up to an event.
Elena and Emily.
Emily and Elena.
People taking a second to make sure they knew which twin they were talking to. Like they weren’t completely different underneath the surface of their skin. Half the time, she wasn’t even sure they cared if they knew which one was which. She didn’t have much problems with it until she met Elijah, and for the first time ever, she’d wanted someone to see her, not Emily… Not the both of them…. Just her.