NEVERMORE : A twist to the tale

“What an arrogant jerk,” I mumbled to myself in the middle of the deserted Tuileries garden.

I sauntered past the pink magnolia trees and manicured shrubs, the breeze wafting up the smells of summer blooms. Under the gaze of the statues and star-filled sky, Spectre’s words looped above the sound of my audiobook.

I finally found you.

The worst part in that story was that I had left him on seen for several minutes, probably ten, unable to come up with any worthy comeback. First of all, I had found him. I was the one texting him; he was delusional.

A notification from my sister popped on my phone. Luna was still online at midnight, and my obsessive mind was already imagining the worst. My fingers flew over the screen.

Me: What are you doing online at this hour?

I went back to the discussion page with Spectre, already tapping out my message, when Luna called me. I picked it up at the first beep.

“Hi,” my sister greeted me with a yawn. “I couldn’t sleep, so I was drawing my manga. Mom is making a birdhouse in the garden because Duchess has befriended a hummingbird, and Mom just read on Facebook that hummingbirds bring luck.”

My laugh echoed in the park. Duchess was the black cat I’d given her so she wouldn’t feel so lonely. Our mother was eccentric, going on the eternal quest for love despite the numerous boyfriends she had after my dad broke her heart. She still believed each of them would be the one—but a simple online check had proven they’d all been liars, indebted, or still married. I didn’t take after my mom’s sunny personality, but Luna did.

“Duchess is the only cat who is friendly with birds.” My smile faltered. “How is homeschooling?”

“Better than in the institute, even though I’m the one sometimes teaching new things to my teachers.” Her voice grew thick and unsteady. “I’m just not eager to start in a new high school again. My therapist thinks I’m ready, that I’m making progress.”

I felt an ache in my stomach. We were at the beginning of summer. September was still far away. We still had time. “First comes your birthday, which shall arrive very soon. Did Mom plan something?”

“She’s throwing me a pity party with Madeleine and all the old people. It’s gonna be hella boring.”

I heard the sound of Luna’s pencil strokes rubbing against her paper.

“Not boring since I’ll be there.” My voice was way too enthusiastic for this kind of event with all the hyenas craving the latest gossip. “In September, you won’t have to go through all of this alone. I’ll be back home. For good.”

That thought alone sent a spasm of worry crossing my face, and I made a mental note to check the train ticket price, which would probably cost me a month of kink tales.

“You better be!” she chuckled. “And I know what I want as a gift.”

“Anything.”

“I know you’ve submitted your novel at Ever After, and I want to read it. I hope you didn’t forget my dedication.”

Anything but that.

“The fact you’re not speaking means you’re hiding it from me to offer it on my birthday, right?” She did that thing with her voice where it was full of mischief when she was about to uncover a great secret.

So, of course, I did what any responsible and mature adult would have done: I lied.

“How did you know?” My voice was pitched high, and my whole face scrunched up. I felt the stares of the statues in the park falling upon me with shame, urging me to stop right there. “You’ll love it! I can’t wait for you to read it!”

I can’t wait to read it either.

I’m screwed. So screwed.

“You’re the best. Counting the days!” She yawned again, and I heard her walk across her bedroom. “Well, I’m off to bed. Love you.”

“Sleep well.” The moment I hung up, I complained to Rosie, “Why can’t I tell her the truth?”

The dog flared her nose at me as if she didn’t understand either.

“But deadlines are good, right? Now I have no choice but to achieve my goals by using all my means, even if they are psychotic and stupendous.” I gave myself a firm, tyrannic pep talk.

Speaking of pressure, I wasn’t nearly done with Spectre. I glanced at our discussion page I was still locked on, only to notice he’d had the audacity to send me another message while I was on the phone with Luna, thinking about my next move. Preferably a smart one. So yes, I immediately read his message, and he knew it, which made me look desperate.

Spectre: Scheduling a call tomorrow. Please, drop your number.

That was it. No hello. No beautiful, well-constructed sentences. Communication was definitely not his strong point—it was a time saver for someone so busy with his little self.

Nevertheless, contact with the enemy had been made. I shouldn’t complain. Now, I had to act and think fast.

Me: How presumptuous of you to think you found me while I’m talking with a phantom with no identity. It can’t be one-sided, and with the past we share, I’d say we’re close enough to be honest with each other. Care for FaceTime?

I just had the time to drop my number that he was already typing.

Spectre: I heard your honesty, and I’m giving you the opportunity to insult me over a call. Let’s not skip the steps.

My fingers crushed over the screen at full speed.

Me: Coward.

“Did you hear him, Rosie?”

She snorted in a piggy sound, searching for whatever was on the grass as I switched to another chapter of my audiobook, letting myself be lulled into the story despite the fact I was imagining throwing golf balls at Spectre.

Spectre: Save your insults for tomorrow, or you’ll run out of them.

Me: When it comes to you, I can be pretty creative and list an alphabetic version of everything you are.

Arrogant. Brute. Coward. Dick. Egomaniac. F—

Spectre: No one ever did that for me. I’m flattered.

“Fucking jerk!” I screamed for the F letter.

Spectre: Goodnight, Aurore.

Reading my name written by him made my blood boil. I refocused on the audio chapter narrated by a male voice. It had directly skipped to the steamy part, while I had no recollection of the chapter before.

“That’s it, baby. I want to hear you scream from those precious lips of yours.”

Another person would probably have a crimson blush spreading through their cheeks, but I didn’t. I was listening to erotica with a straight, unapproachable face.

Rosie suddenly stalked toward the fountain at an athletic speed with the same excitement as if she was going to be reunited with her dog lover returning from pet jail.

“Rosie, what’s happening?” I followed that stubborn dog, who now stood on the small ledge of the fountain, hurrying me up to tag along with her barks. “You’re feeling adventurous tonight, huh?”

I stepped on the ledge, a breeze caressing my nape. On my tiptoes, I moved forward, keeping my balance with my arms like one would walk on a wire suspended in the middle of the void. “You got what you want. Now what?”

Rosie hated water. Logically, she shouldn’t have tugged on the leash and chased like a boar in the middle of the fountain, splashing me without remorse, but tonight, she did.

“Rosalind Schneider, don’t you dare—” I lost my balance, having the good idea to stand on only one leg. I stumbled backward, losing my equilibrium, and snapped my eyes closed. My fall was nearing.

But nothing happened.

For a moment, I thought this could be a dream if it wasn’t for the fact an arm was wrapped around my waist in a strong grip, holding me secure. My balance was restored, and my heart fluttered at an extreme speed. The smell of white musk and cedar wafted up in the air like a citrusy breeze on a salty, stormy ocean. I safely opened my eyes, only to take in the sight of Rosie casually seated in the middle of the pool of water, her tongue lashing out in victory.

“I got you.” The masculine voice of my savior leaped above the one in my headset.

His hand left my waist, and a shiver chased in its wake.

“I didn’t need your help,” I grumbled, finding a semblance of composure before reeling around to face the stranger.

Eyes the color of an obscure night were set on me. Dark hair was pulled back with class. The stranger was imposing, his posture regally straight. He had a squared jaw and chiseled face like those of the Olympian statues. He sure was the epitome of a book boyfriend coming to life, which meant I had probably fallen asleep, and this was a nightmare.

I pinched myself to test my theory, but nothing happened. He observed me in the midst of the growing silence with a detached expression I couldn’t quite detect. I managed a friendly smile, and not even one of his lips lifted to return the favor.

“You sure looked like you did,” he said with calm.

“I’m not a damsel in—” As I stepped away from the ledge to prove a point, my headset had the audacity to crash on the floor at this exact moment.

Oh no. My audio continued playing, this time out loud, and my shame ravaged me inside. I wanted to plummet myself to hell, already imagining what would be written on my grave.

“If you misbehave, you won’t come.” The audio broke through the silence, and I dipped to my phone to pause it and delete my existence. Unfortunately, I couldn’t, and the audiobook continued with “What a good girl you—”

I finally shut it off and hid my phone in my sweatshirt pocket, pretending nothing had happened. I didn’t notice until now how tall the stranger was. Tall enough to make me feel like a small moth, and I’d never defined myself as short. An unreadable expression plastered on his face, he was still scrutinizing me with a deadly coldness as if I was the strangest creature he had ever laid eyes on. He didn’t speak, and that made the situation so much worse.

“I’m Aurore, and you are?” I held out my hand with the little self-esteem remaining in me.

“Ajax,” he simply stated, skeptical of accepting my hand, which I retracted right away.

This man wasn’t cold. He was ice-cold. The unapproachable, superior kind. I was either bothering him, or his aloof attitude was disturbingly casual.

“Ajax? Like the Greek warrior? The one who—”

“You’re wet,” Ajax cut.

“Wet?” I gulped, my mind wandering through the memories of the audiobook.

“Yes, your…” His eyes assessed my outfit, and recognition flashed across my features.

I was wearing purple unicorn pajamas.

“Attire,” he described it as such. “Do you want to dry yourself with my jacket?”

A jacket he was already taking off to give to me. One from a fancy black tux that probably cost more than my rent. A jacket that seemed to have been ironed like a control freak. And he was offering it to me so I would use it as the fanciest towel of all time, to the point he couldn’t possibly wear it afterward.

He held it to me, and I drilled my eyes on the sharp lines of the satin fabric of his dress shirt clinging tight to his herculean biceps and broad shoulders. Ajax. I was getting the name now, having peeked at his aesthetically pleasing muscles. Focus, Aurore.

“No, thank you, I’m fine. I like being wet.” Damn it, that came out wrong. “I mean, it doesn’t bother me. I like rainy, gloomy days, for instance. I usually walk everywhere, and, well, when it rains, I still do it. I find it pretty romantic and—” Romantic? Abort. Now. “Just saying a few drops of water won’t kill me.”

That monologue was mortifying. I had apparently chosen today to do a contest for the most embarrassing thing that could come out of my mouth, and I was breaking all the records. My dream was to be a novelist, and here I was, unable to put two words together to save my life.

Ajax simply nodded, keeping his devastating eyes on me as he secured his carefully folded jacket in the crook of his arm.

“You’re an author?” That sudden interest destabilized me.

“How do you know?” Probably from the audio I was listening to, or was it the literal vibe I was giving? Or—

“Your sweatshirt. It says, ‘please do not annoy me or everything you say may end up in my novel.’”

Of course, the sweatshirt. Hand me that gold medal right now.

A ghost of a smile slanted his mouth ever so slightly, giving away a glance at the human underneath. “I’ll make sure to remember that. I wouldn’t want you to name your next villain Ajax.”

“I like villains,” I affirmed. “They’re just misunderstood, interesting characters.”

After all, I was much closer to the villain than the hero, allowing myself to be selfish and bad, too exhausted to reach perfection. Over time, I had lost my empathy and become unfiltered; even if I were to hurt people, I didn’t care. Except when it was about Luna.

Ajax didn’t reply, but that thin line stretching his lips didn’t move away as the soft shimmering blue light of the moon licked through the sharp edges of his face.

“You have nothing to worry about. From what I saw, you’re more of a hero in disguise. The dark knight in a shining suit.” I couldn’t just shut up. Thankfully, I hadn’t referred to him as a look-alike Superman with a mysterious loner vibe.

I shifted my focus to Rosie, hoping to find some support, but the traitorous dog was sitting at Ajax’s feet. She was unbelievable. Not only was she infatuated with this stranger more than she ever was with me, but she betrayed me, giving him the puppy eyes to charm him.

“And are you into heroes, Aurore?” His deep voice brushed on my skin like black velvet, the edge of sensuality prickling my senses at the sound of my name. “Or the misunderstood ones?”

“The nonexistent ones,” I hastened to drop with raw sincerity. Romance was an art, not a reality. That’s why living multiple lives through books wasn’t enough for me anymore. I grew bitter over them and the false feeling of hope. Reality just wasn’t like that.

“You write about romance.” This wasn’t a question but an affirmation. I was an open book to him while he was a shield, not letting anything pass through him.

“I do.” I omitted the fact I was struggling with a lack of total inspiration. “And you? Are you into business or something? Or maybe your date ditched you tonight, so you’re swallowing your sorrows in the park.”

I made a mental note to my author-self to stop making scenarios inside my head and, worse than that, expose them.

“No. No date,” Ajax deadpanned. “Why would you assume that?”

“You’re alone at midnight in a park, dressed up super fancy. Your face is closed off. You’re all serious and cold, so you don’t scream friendly. You seem annoyed, even, with writing plastered on your forehead to leave you alone.” I bit my tongue, and his brows slanted inward, processing my words. “So unless you work in the mafia or do some shady business, something is troubling you.”

“What’s troubling you, then?” he countered back.

“Oh no, I’m only here because Rosie needed to—” Realization flashed across my features. I wasn’t holding Rosie’s leash anymore. “Rosie!”

I searched on every corner to the point of having torticollis, only to see that my stranger in the shape of a living Greek warrior was holding her leash in his hand casually, to Rosie’s grand happiness.

“Oh, thank god, I thought I lost you!” I scooped down to pet her. “I’m sorry, princess. I’ll give you your nonfat yogurt once we’re back.”

Looking heavenward, I realized I was kneeling before a perfect stranger. My sight was at the uncourteous height of his zipper. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and I rushed to get up.

“Thank you. Again. I should be heading back now,” I rattled off like I had a train to catch.

Once standing, our bodies almost collided, leaving only a few centimeters of space between us. Our breaths intertwined, and that single microsecond was enough to make my heart skip a beat. I hurried to take a step back. His presence seemed larger and more intimidating. He exuded a raw magnetism, just like his scent, both masculine and sophisticated.

“Do you live far? I could call you an Uber,” he offered.

“No, that’s okay. Plus, Rosie likes to walk too.” To that, she growled as if she knew I had told a lie.

Ajax handed me back the leash, and with the contact of our fingers brushing against each other, a small spark of electricity shot the length of them. He retracted his hand and spread apart his fingers in a tense move. Was I repulsing him? That was my cue to stop embarrassing myself.

“Well, Ajax, I hope you find whatever you were looking for tonight.” I meant that. “Sunrise brings a new beginning and often an answer. Goodbye.”

The corners of my mouth twitched upward, and I inhaled a deep breath, pulling away from him. I took the scenic way back home, the golden gate of the exit a few meters in front of me.

“Perhaps I already did.” Ajax’s voice breached through the emptiness, freezing me in place.

I reeled around, some meters now distancing us. It was my turn to scream, “What?”

“Can you two be quiet! I’m trying to propose to my girlfriend here!” a man yelled at us.

I searched through the illuminated streetlights, and looking closely, I saw a couple by the shadows of the trees. The man was on one knee in front of her, and the woman was seated on the bench with a bouquet. A phone was recording on a tripod, and I could see the small street orchestra waiting nearby for her to say yes.

“Oh, come on, you didn’t rent the park!” I complained before mincing my way backward, but something in me couldn’t stay quiet. Leave, Aurore. Do not interact. I repeat, do not—“I could snap you a picture? I’m good with a camera, and no offense, your tripod is not set up straight, so if you plan on doing a proposal only once, do it properly.” I looked at the bride-to-be in question. “You don’t have to say yes if you don’t—”

“Please,” the man hissed.

I mouthed, “Sorry,” at him in a sarcastic way and swiveled my eyes back to Ajax. But he wasn’t that far away anymore. He had prowled toward me, his gaze fixed on mine, not taking into account the couple at our side.

“I didn’t even see you walk towards me. What do—”

“Would you be my date tomorrow night?” It was blunt. Direct. Efficient.

Ajax succeeded in muting me. My eyes widened, his question throwing me off guard since I couldn’t tell if he was even interested in me.

“It’ll probably be boring and formal.” Jeez, he didn’t know how to sell whatever it was. “I just arrived in town tonight for tomorrow’s opening of a temporary art exhibition at the Louvre. My friend Isaac works in art.”

For some reason, imagining this stranger being friendly with other beings was almost impossible for me. His gaze roamed my face in search of a reaction from my side, but it was my turn to not give him anything. Nothing came from my mouth. My right to speak was revoked. Plus, my relationship with anything artistic wasn’t at its best.

“And I would like you to accompany me.” The way he pointed that out felt as if acid was burning down his throat into admitting that.

“Why?” It was the only thing that slipped through my lips.

“Because having you by my side will make this event far less painful.” He smiled grimly. “And far more entertaining.”

“I—” Say something. Anything. But my mouth was working against me, still hanging open.

“Think about it.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll be waiting for you in front of the entrance at 7:00 p.m. with the invites. The choice is yours, Aurore. Good night.”

He walked off, cloaking the night, and I remained stone-still, taken by surprise.

That stranger wanted me to be his date.

“You should have said yes.” The woman from earlier showed me her engagement ring, laughing and jumping into her fiancé’s arms with an infatuation I struggled to understand. “It’s not too late!”

The orchestra started playing music for the happy lovers.

It wasn’t yet dawn, but something told me this day would change everything.