29 28. Sandstorms (1/2)

Julius' POV.

I pressed the doorbell button three times before it was opened by a young girl, almost six, in a pink dress. I raised my sunglasses and stared down at her. She was smiling.

”Yes, Sir?” She chirped, rocking on her heels with a wide grin, her missing front tooth making an appearance.

I reluctantly knelt and levelled my gaze with hers. ”Where's Auntie Samara?”

”I can't call her,” she said, wrapping her arms in front of her chest and shrugged. ”You're a stranger.”

”I am her friend,” I shook my head, trying to reason out with her.

”That's what all killers say.” She sang it and I stood up irritated by her cheeky attitude. I couldn't stand kids like her.

”Bianca!” I then heard a voice call from the inside. ”Didn't I say not to open the door-”

Amanda. Nice.

She then pushed Bianca out of the way and stood there, hands on her hips with a scowl on her face that interestingly highlighted her double chin.

”What are you doing here? Well, aren't you persistent?” She whispered harshly and I smiled nevertheless.

”Where's Samara?” I cut her off and she sneered before a sweet disembodied voice filled my ears.

”What's wrong-?” I inhaled sharply as Samara stood next to her in plain, baby-blue pyjamas that hugged her body beautifully and contrasted amazingly with her jet-black hair. First time to see her in colours, I realized. And I absolutely loved it.

She paused for a second before breaking into a huge smile that tugged at my heartstrings. I almost rolled my eyes at my heart's wussiness.

”Nice to see you again, Samara,” I muttered sweetly as Amanda glared at me.

”Julius! That's just a great surprise!” She exclaimed as her cheeks filled with colour. ”Please come in.”

I smirked, cocking a daring eyebrow at a fuming Amanda before entering. I was even still having a stare-down competition with her when I was surprised by Samara holding my hand and leading me through her luxurious home, up the spiralling stairs.

She closed her room's door behind her, grinning. I don't think I've ever seen her that enthusiastic.

”Next Thursday-” She whispered excitedly, leaning back on her door and smiling widely.

I approached her with a slight smile. ”What do you mean?”

”I'll do it!” She blurted, clapping her hands once and then pointing at her sunglasses. ”I'll do the surgery next Thursday!”

I stared at her, dumbfounded. ”You will? But Amanda said you were permanently blind-” I stated, raising my eyebrows.

”But that wasn't what the doctor said!” She beamed at me. ”All this time I was living with Amanda, she thought I was permanently blind!”

'Thought?' I frowned a bit but let it go as I decided to focus on Samara's happiness. She was so beautiful, standing and beaming as if proud of herself.

”That's marvellous, Samara,” I muttered with a big smile while approaching her and gently holding her arms before awkwardly dropping them. I didn't even know why I had touched them in the first place.

I was acting like a complete, utter joke.

”I know! Best part is-” She said, dropping her voice and head. ”Amanda doesn't know when! I'll surprise her!”

I stared at her astonished. Was this the broken, disappointed girl I was talking to a few days ago? No wonder why my heart persisted on fluttering every time I saw her. She was sure different. Extraordinarily, beautifully mature. I just couldn't help smiling.

”That's great-” I tilted my head and examined her as she pushed herself off the door and stood straight. ”I'm glad to see you've moved on-” I was whispering and hadn't noticed that I was cornering her to the door. ”I even love those pyjamas on you. I mean, if you see your hair and skin,” I touched her hair absently with my fingertips as I let my eyes trail down her neck, collarbones, and- I cleared my throat and looked up, heart galloping wildly in my chest. ”It all contrasts beautifully with the colour.”

She blushed furiously and I smiled, almost stepping closer. Stepping closer because being that close to her was a silence I decided I loved. It was a warmth I missed. A breath I needed taking. A memory I needed capturing.

Samara then cleared her throat shyly and I thought I wanted to die. Because watching her get shy and flustered around me was something I wanted to do for the rest of my life and for the eternity I believed existed after death. It never failed to bring a smile on my face because I realized, as I stood there, that close to her, constantly hearing her breath hitch as I grazed her arms and touched her hair- I realized that my heart wasn't the only wuss here.

”Thanks to you-” She uttered, making a way out from my proximity as she touched the walls and gripped any support to make it to her bed. And I was pleasured by the thought that maybe she needed all that support not because she was blind. But because of me. Because I made her needy of all that support. Because I broke her bones and jumbled up all her thoughts. And because that -bless her- made her unable to remember where her bed was.

I wanted her to feel the same.

”Me? What have I done?” I asked amused, dismissing all my thoughts.

”You were right when you said I had to be strong. Staying blind or wearing black wouldn't make me able to avenge Dad. I had to change-” She shrugged lightly and I slowly headed to her huge bed with white sheets to sit next to her.

We both faced the big white, glossy piano that shone under the sun rays, streaming from the window.

”But you never told me, Caesar,” she said, facing the piano and smiling. ”-why did you come?”

”Well...you never came to the park.”

”Yeah, Amanda said that the weather was terrible and I'm very allergic to dust.”

I retracted my head in surprise. ”Dust?”

”Yes. I mean there was a sandstorm, right?” She nodded at nothing in particular and I frowned.

”Then how did you get the doctor's appointment?” I asked curiously.

”I went immediately after our talk-” She said, sighing exaggeratedly and I felt uneasy.

Why was Amanda lying to her? There wasn't any sandstorm.

”Anyway, Caesar, back to business. Why did you come when you could've called and asked about me?” I watched her suppress a grin and fidget nervously with her fingers. And I had to smile watching her because I knew what was going on in her head.

I didn't mainly come here to see her. It was Amanda's sweet talk that raised my suspicions and deeply unsettled me. It dragged my feet all the way here when I could've been sleeping. But I guess that meant that I really cared about her. Samara.

”Don't know really. But I'm glad I saw you again, you know? I'm glad I saw you've changed your outlook on life. It's nice to see you as a mighty, fearless woman.”

Samara chuckled, shook her head, and frowned playfully all at the same time. ”I'm not fearless. I've just decided to take the bitter medicine of reality and factuality. That's all.”

”That's one powerful drug, don't you think? Worked so well-” I trailed off, smiling and she blushed again. I grinned, my heart deciding on divorcing my chest and eloping with my guts.

”Let's do some piano-” She decided to say.

”Who taught you how to play it?” I asked, trying to start a conversation. I really enjoyed her company.

”Dad,” she said, smiling and stretching her dark-blue, nail-polished fingers. ”You?”

”Same,” I tilted my head and stared at her. I was absolutely abusing her inability to see me, to stare and stare at her. To absorb her every feature and muscle twitch.

”I have an odd instinct that tells me you hate it-” She pointed out and I raised my eyebrows.

”How can you tell?” I asked curiously.