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I kissed her. Damn. I kissed Liv, no matter how many times I told myself not to since I entered the room and seeing her all right and smiling. Damn. Why did I do that?
Because she had looked so beautiful and oh so fragile despite the anger lurking behind those eyes, and because I had been secretly wanting to do that for ages since we became close to each other.
Damn.
I had always imagined what Liv’s lips would feel like. If they were anything at all as soft as her skin whenever we hugged or as smooth as it looked like when ever she smiled. I didn’t expect it would feel like this.
She was soft, and warm and everything a kiss should be and more. I sound like a Precious Hearts novel, but it was. I had leaned in to kiss her, wanting to startle her into silence as well as satisfy my need to feel and see that she was all right, not realizing that I had wrapped one of my arms around her shoulders, the other cupping her small cheek, the one that wasn’t swollen, and pulling her closer towards me, to kiss her better, to taste her better.
I was surprised to feel her succumb to my touch, as if she had wanted me to do this all along but had never told me to do so. I felt her hand fist around my shirt and pull me closer, seeming to share my desire of bringing our bodies closer. She kissed like one who wasn’t kissed before and I kissed like I hadn’t kissed for a long time. But I let go of all those thoughts and just focused on kissing her.
Too soon did I feel her push her hands against my chest and too soon did I pull back to see her expression. I was delighted and a bit more than smug seeing her somewhat dazed and glazed expression, her eyes seeming to see something further away than her room at that moment.
“Liv?” It was my turn to coax her out of her reverie. She still had the glazed look on her face before I reached out to touch her un swollen cheek. She jumped as if scalded and looked at me with more than confusion in her eyes. There was also something like hurt?
“Are you okay?” I asked and my voice had dropped again to its usual deep cadences that I was sure she would notice. Sure enough, her brow, if it was even more possible, furrowed in more confusion. I had to smile at her expression.
“I somehow didn’t expect the aftermath of that kiss to be like this.” I said giving a light chuckle. That made her strangle out a response, I noticed.
“You just kissed me.” She said in a shell-shocked voice as if she couldn’t believe it. And after everything that happened to us, I wasn’t surprised she felt surprised.
“Yes.” I said in a voice as if we did it all the time. She frowned like when she was struggling to understand a difficult problem before looking back at me.
“You’re gay.” She said a matter-of-factly as if that denied everything else and I had to chuckle.
“Nope.”
“You’re not gay?” she asked incredulously and I must say there was never a moment in all my time I had known Liv that she looked cuter than she did now, still looking utterly confused about something.
“I’m sorry,” I said in a voice I was sure held no regret or remorse. In fact the smile on my face said otherwise.“I’m not gay.”
“Oh.” She said after a while as if that was the only thing she could say. I wasn’t prepared for her next actions however.
Liv had opened her mouth, breathed in and shouted at the top of her lungs: “Kuya!!!!”
Sure enough moments later, Viggo came running in, his face contorted in complete panic then after spotting the two of us, it came a look of utter confusion to match that of his sister’s a few moments ago.
“Liv?” he asked incredulously, pushing his glasses up higher.
“Don’t you ‘Liv’ me,” she huffed and I had to stifle my laughter behind my hand lest she turn all her wrath upon me. “You told me he was gay.” She said angrily.
“Who?” Viggo asked, not really seeing where she was going with this. I merely shrugged my shoulders at Viggo’s questioning look towards me, wanting to enjoy the show for all it’s worth.
“You told me Bench was gay!” she shouted and it sounded very much like a child throwing a tantrum when her dad wouldn’t give her what she wanted.
“Uh,” Viggo trailed off, unsure of what to say, and deciding feign ignorance he looked back at her. “What, you mean he isn’t?”
I snorted at the lame attempt at lying Viggo did; He never could do so convincingly to his sister. Liv, true to form, glared at her brother harder.
“Don’t play stupid with me Kuya.” She threatened in that voice I was sure would promise pain later if one did not comply.
“Uh,” Viggo started again, extremely uncomfortable. For someone being taller and larger than Liv, he sure acted as if she could burn him if she so dared. Knowing Liv and her usually kept-in-check temper, I did not doubt it would happen.
Viggo decided the best way to avoid trouble was to change the subject, or stray it away from which he was the subject.
“How did you know he wasn’t gay?”
Liv, so typically, took the bait and I had to bite back my laughter again. “Because he kissed me, that’s how!!” her voice was rising in pitch becoming shriller and shriller getting angrier all the more.
“Gay people don’t kiss girls. Guy people kiss girls!” she declared and if it weren’t for that she would hurtle all her stuffed animals at me, I would laugh at the absurdity of her words.
Again, Viggo proved to be smarter than I gave him credit for. “So what’s the problem? He’s not gay right? Didn’t you like the kiss?” he said continuing on the path to stray the subject away from himself. I smirked at him and he winked when Liv wasn’t looking.
“That’s not the point!” she cried out making wild exaggerated gestures with her hands.
“Then what is?” Viggo asked, even tilting his head in askance. He would have done well in Drama.
“Yes love, what is the point?” I asked choosing this time to intervene. Bad move, because Liv rounded on me, finger pointed threateningly.
“Don’t you fucking call me “love”, dickhead, if you know what’s good for you.” She threatened darkly, her profanities sounding even more ridiculous in her pixie-like face. “The point is,” she elaborated, casting another glare towards her brother as she did so.
“The point is, you two led me believe that all this time I was spending my time with a gay guy. You made me believe and became comfortable with you that I flirted with you without thinking about it, and I flirted and you flirted and I....” the look of pure horror suddenly flashed across her face catching me completely by surprise.
Her rosebud pink lips mouthed the word “Oh” before she slammed her palm against her forehead and landing dramatically down her pillows. Even Viggo looked shocked. I quickly ran to her bedside, suddenly afraid she fainted after all her excitement.
I was surprised, if not a little relieved to see Liv completely conscious, her eyes too large again for her face, her expression completely frozen in shock.
“Liv?’ I asked her my hand hovering hesitatingly over her swollen cheek. I still haven’t forgiven that bastard Jan for hurting Liv, no matter how accidental it would be. I forced my self to focus on Liv.
“I flirted with a non-gay guy...” she whispered and I had to lean a bit to hear her. “I flirted with a guy who I thought was gay but was actually a guy. Oh...” she gave a groan of mortification and grabbed the closest stuffed toy she could reach, which was her favourite stuffed frog and buried her face in it. “I must have sounded like an awful slut.” Her voice echoed somewhere beneath the frog, sounding muffled through the cotton and fur.
I smirked, glad that it was not as serious as I thought it was. I glanced at Viggo and he grinned, nodding quickly and catching on that I could handle this part by myself. He quickly left.
“Yes, you flirted.” I stated bluntly, but the smile ruined any attempts of my seriousness, and though she was currently hiding underneath a fake frog, I was sure Liv could hear my tone. “Rather shamelessly in fact.” I added, this time grinning. Liv took a peek underneath her frog to glare at me, before burying her face once more.
“I’m such a slut.” She declared, groaning in embarrassment once more. I chuckled under my breath and tried to tug the stuffed toy away from her. She held it to her face fast.
“No you’re not,” I said firmly this time, resigning myself to staring into the eyes of the stuffed toy frog since she apparently had no intention of emerging soon. “You never were one.”
“But I flirted so ‘shamelessly’!” she declared, not wanting to be coaxed out of her embarrassment and completely satisfied in feeling sorry for yourself.
“Because I flirted back. Nothing wrong about that.” I said in a calm voice. There was a silence and I was praying that she would see the logic in my words, but Liv was not one to be convinced easily and she let out another groan.
“But the whole sex thing, and the fuck buddies, and the flirting...” she trailed off, only to pound the frog into her face repeatedly, in consternation.
I couldn’t help it; I laughed out loud. I could believe Liv was embarrassed about the whole situation. She was never comfortable with most guys to talk like how she did with me and it was because she thought I was gay.
My laughter seemed to elicit a response because she glared at me from underneath her stuffed toy. “You tricked me.” She hissed at me, and underneath the glares she was giving at me, (all I could see were her eyes), I detected several other emotions. There was anger there, of course, but there was something lurking beneath, again I saw hurt and sadness. It confused me, so I tried to alleviate the somewhat tense atmosphere.
“Oh Liv, you never flirt with anybody anyway, you needed the practice.” I shot her a grin, expecting her to roll her eyes in tolerance and give back a retort, but she just gave a grunt, and again that hurt flashed in her eyes, before she hid behind her toy again.
“Liv?” I asked totally confused, wondered if there was something I said. She was silent and I all I can see was her breathing up and down, her chest giving that indication. Her face was entirely covered.
“Liv, what are you doing?” I ask half-impatiently, half-exasperatedly. I tried to pull the frog away again, but her fists were clenched tight over the fur. I sighed roughly. “Stop hiding behind Edward and talk to me.” I felt her stop trying to resist my pull then; I bet she didn’t think I would remember what she named the frog.
I grinned to myself before pulling Edward the frog away from her face to be able to look at her properly. For some strange reason, her eyes were bright and glazed and her cheeks were red, probably still from embarrassment.
She didn’t look embarrassed at the moment, more like surprised. I never noticed how adorable she looked when she was surprised. “How did you know his name?” she asked me suddenly, and I had to pause a bit to understand what she was saying.
When I remembered she was still talking about the toy frog, I rolled my eyes again. “I was the one who gave it you on your 18th birthday you twit.” I grinned at her just to tease and perhaps ease the tension. She automatically narrowed her eyes in response, so I knew I was getting to her. “And the fact that you wouldn’t stop blabbering about the name you gave it helps too.” I grinned again just to annoy her and lighten the mood.
She sat up now and I eased back, shifting my weight on her bed, preparing myself for whatever questioning that was going to come. She grabbed Edward the frog again and I frowned when she clutched it to her chest, as if it would protect her from all the trouble in the world.
She paid no attention to what my expression was and instead bit her lip. That’s when I knew she wanted to say something but was hesitant to voice it out loud. I sighed roughly and ran a hand through my hair. I had enough drama for one night, but this seemed like the perfect timing to say everything to clear everything up.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her presently, staring straight at her eyes, trying to gauge her thoughts by looking at her eyes. She just blinked at me.
                “Liv,” I said in a more threatening voice that I have ever used on her and frowned. It seemed to help because she breathed in and gave me a pointed look.
                “You tricked me.” She said again and the same expression crossed her face. Anger mixed with hurt and that impression intensified the more when I heard her falter. Liv never faltered in what she wanted to say before.
                “I’m sorry,” I say this seriously now, without a touch of humour in my voice and praying for her to believe me. I reached out to hold her hands, like what we normally do. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I said, and that was the truth. There was in no way I was going to make the same mistake that piece of shit did to her.
I would be better; if she would let me, that is. I looked at her, suddenly afraid of what this confrontation might entail.
                “It’s just that I never trusted any guy to be that close except you. All because I thought you were gay and could understand me better than any of our friends.” She tried to explain, her words coming out as soft and rather muted. She was trying to explain the reason why she felt betrayed. I would sit here and listen; I owed her that much after I tricked her for so long, as she put it.
                “Then to find out you weren’t gay at all, and that you were a guy and it’s just...” Her eyebrows were raised and scrunched up together and her eyes were clouded in confusion, I had to stop the urge to grin uncontrollably at her adorable face.
                “It confuses me.” She ended, as if those were the only words she could come up with and I understand her.
                It confused me too, this impasse we were in, a situation I never thought out of all people Liv and I would be in. But honestly, how long did I think the illusion was going to last? It wouldn’t have been healthy to either of us, me pretending to be somebody I wasn’t, and her going on to believe a lie. She deserved better than that, and I thought that somehow our encounter with Jan the bastard must have been a blessing in disguise, for Liv and me to be able to reach an understanding.
                “Why?” she asked now, still clutching Edward like a lifeline, looking at me with wide childlike eyes. She was clinging to the illusion that I would laugh and go back to my feminine tendencies and make everything that had happened, including the kiss, a part of some twisted joke. I had no such plans.
                “Because you wouldn’t have opened up to anybody else if I hadn’t.” I answered, perfectly sure she would understand me.
                She nodded, but the confusion still hadn’t left her eyes. “Why you?” she then asked and that was more difficult to answer without it coming out cheesy or anything. I sighed and looked away, needing to gather my thoughts.
                “Because I needed it.” I answered truthfully enough. That didn’t mean I didn’t make her more confused. Evidence of it when I turned back to look at her, a frown complimented her confused look. I gave her a small smile before elaborating.
                I told her of my past, of the things she still didn’t know about me because I cleverly avoided it. I told her of my high school sweetheart and how she had died a few weeks before we were to enter Kultura together. She was going to study Music, specifically Voice and I could still remember the songs she would compose out of the blue and force me to listen to them. I had closed my eyes then and let the memory take me.
                Ellie had been the perfect girlfriend. We were friends since we were kids, our mothers were best friends and typically we had been tossed into each others’ company since our toddler years. We had such a clichéd love story. We hated each other at first, watched each other go through the embarrassing phases of adolescence, watched each other attract the opposite sex, and we had our fair share of relationships before we finally realized we were in love with each other. The timing had been clichéd too; it had been at prom and at the final dance when I was man enough to confess I liked her enough to actually dismiss all our previous hate towards each other since childhood. She had been surprised by the confession but had blushingly told me she returned the feelings. Before junior year ended we were together.
                It had been easy to love Ellie because I knew what she was capable off. She had a bit of a temper; she was a feisty one and would not hesitate in exploding at the littlest things. She would get angry at me for the stupidest things but I have known her long enough to calm her down and she trusted me enough not to get offended by her anger. In turn she encouraged me to go for my dreams when everybody else scoffed at it. A career in show business was unstable but she had faith in me to make it if I worked hard and I loved it enough. It was because of her why I tried out for Kultura in the first place. She had a gentle side of her that she rarely let anybody see and only when she was with me. She was a challenge and unpredictable and kept me on my toes. It didn’t hurt also that she was one of the most beautiful girls in our campus then. I had our future set before us; I had no qualms that we would be together through college, high school boy that I was, have careers, children and riches and grow old ridiculously happy together. I had been wrong.
I had been the perfect boyfriend as well; I always took her home after school, always texted when I said I would, never forgot our monthsary, knew when to stay clear of arguments when I   saw them. But like every perfect couple we had our fights as well. And the last fight we had before she died was the one I would come to regret even today.
                It was a few days before we were to go to Baguio to settle in before first term started and there was a party for all the seniors at the beach. One last hurrah before we had to enter the terrifying new territory that was tertiary education. I didn’t want to go, wasn’t eager to pretend to have fun when the love of my life and I were fighting so I stayed home that night despite Ellie begging me to come and getting into another argument because of it.
I should have gone with her and had not let my pride get away from me.
                I learned later that some of the guys suggested skinny dipping at the beach at midnight and all of them present at the party drunkenly said yes. Besides, what was there to worry about the beach at night except that there were no lights? They weren’t going to stray far, the shore would be right there. They would be able to swim out easily.
They had forgotten Ellie didn’t know how to swim.
                Up until today, I still blame myself for not swallowing my pride and gone with her to the party to look after her. I couldn’t stop the images of her struggling against the pull of the water in my nightmares days after she died. They couldn’t find her because it was too dark, she had drifted too far away from them and the tide came in pulling her away from where they had waded in earlier, and so she shouted and shouted, using up all her excess oxygen calling for help but no one could do anything. By the time my friends found her, she was no longer breathing.
                By that time I had forgotten where I was and had let the sorrow of the past wash over me. I had buried my head in my hands, doubling over, trying to choke back tearless sobs, that I didn’t realize Liv had straightened up from her bed and came closer to me, offering her comfort to me like what I did for her months ago.
                Wordlessly, she took me in her arms, my head placed awkwardly in her chest because I was taller than her, but she didn’t seem to care. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, not caring for her swollen cheek and whispered soothing words to my ear.
                “Oh Bench,” she whispered and I could hear the agony in her voice. “It was not your fault. You could not have known it would happen. Stop torturing yourself. Ellie wouldn’t have wanted you to feel like this after all this time.” She rubbed my back and stroked my hair like what I did for her and I closed my eyes, savouring her touch.
                Liv understood. Where most people couldn’t understand why I blamed myself for Ellie’s death, she understood. And she didn’t even know her. Liv understood the feeling of giving one’s entirety to another and have them stripped away without warning and without any compensation of that hole they would leave.
She understood the pain of death, she could still feel the after effects of her mother’s death even after all these years; she understood that no amount of time would ever make it okay and it was stupid for others to say it would. She understood why I had let the illusion of me being gay go on. She understood why I needed to be a different person for once, why I would be afraid to try to be close to anybody else, afraid of the same hurt would recount itself. She understood why I closed off and felt safe behind sarcasm, wit and double innuendos. She understood and she didn’t condemn me for it. In fact she just tightened her embrace at me and I let her.
                It was only when I felt hot tears fall somewhere between the back of my neck and my shirt did I pull away from her. “Liv?” I asked worriedly, staring into her now tear-filled eyes. “Are you all right?”
                Liv gave me a watery smile before sniffing. “I’m sorry,” she whispered sniffing again. “I shouldn’t have let you relive your pain. I know how agonizing it could be.” She sniffed again and I realized she was crying not for herself but for me. She was crying because she felt my pain and understood it so much.
                “Don’t be.” I tried to soothe her, but she just shook her head, intending to finish.
                “I don’t like seeing you in pain.” She whispered. “It makes me feel useless that I can’t do anything to help you.” She sniffed again but she made no effort to wipe her tears away.
                I stared at her, crying because she couldn’t do anything to help me but feeling the pain I was feeling. I haven’t met anybody so compassionate before, not even Ellie. I tried to bite back my smile now. There was no way this girl could be for me.
                I reached over and cupped her cheek again, gently guiding her to look at me. She looked at me with her liquid-y eyes and I gave her a small smile of reassurance before moving closer, our noses almost touching. “Yes you can,” I whispered. Then I kissed her again.