26 25. Magical Hope

I sat on a bench, three benches away from Samara, in the awfully crowded park, not knowing how to approach her. My heart was beating faster than I thought was possible just by staring at her going through a bizarre-looking book with her fingers. My heart only seemed to take a break when someone passed by and blocked my sight of her.

I was about to get up and approach her when my phone vibrated in my pocket. My train of thoughts was cut as I took it out distractedly and answered, not looking at the caller's ID.

There was a lot of panting. "Julius?"

I blinked a couple of times before lowering the phone to actually look at the ID.

"Sam," he gulped on the other side. "She died." Augustus' voice quavered and I was floored back to my senses. "Can we meet? Please." His voice thickened and I closed my open mouth, staring at some kids running around each other in a circle.

I bit my tongue. "Be at the cafe next to Queen Mary's University by four," I told him solidly, my heart pounding heavily in my chest.

I then hung up on Augustus. My half-brother who betrayed me.

I shook my head, promising myself to think about this issue some other time. All I needed to think about was approaching Samara before someone else does. So I got up and hesitantly walked to her bench, feeling light-headed and unfocused. I sat next to her and immediately noticed her index finger stop scanning the raised dots on her book.

"Samara?" I uttered her name as a whisper for the first time in a really long time. Almost a month.

"Long time, no see," was all she said after a short pause, smiling tightly. "How are you? Julius."

I looked at her face. She looked disturbed, her posture was uptight and she tapped her feet more often. She pushed her sunglasses so that its frame touched her rosy cheeks before pinching her nose with her thumb and index finger.

"I am good. You?" I said calmly and slowly, not knowing what to expect.

"I've been good," she said, clearing her throat softly. I frowned slightly at her odd response.

I've been good? - that response was incredibly troubling.

I stayed shut for a while as her long, slender fingers brushed the book's raised dots again.

Was she rejecting me?

"Samara?" I started again and she didn't look at me as her fingers continued their motion but at a faster pace. Seeing that she wasn't going to give in, I did. "I'm sorry."

She stopped 'reading' and looked up, her sunglasses glistening in the sun. She then looked at me with pursed lips and a deep frown. "Where were you? All those days-" She was shaking her head, clearly agitated.

"I was so busy, I couldn't come to the pa-"

"Wrong answer." She said, slamming her book closed. I gaped at her, not knowing what to say. She knew it all the time. She knew it when I was there. It shocked me beyond words.

And I was honest with her. "I don't know what to say-"

"You don't have to say anything. Your actions said it all." She stated sternly, getting up but I held her arm desperately, remembering the danger she was in. I just couldn't let her get away like that.

"I can explain myself. Please, listen," I almost pleaded breathlessly as she grimaced.

"You could've told me. You could've warned me about your disappearance, you know? You could've made it clear that we were nothing more than occasional friends! Strangers, even! But you didn't. You left me. You left me, hoping. Hoping that I can have a friend. That I have a friend! But sensing you pass by me every day? Without even acknowledging my presence? That's harsh, Caesar. My hope that you'd sit next to me- that hope, Caesar, it broke my heart." The words were gushing out of her mouth, strangled, and hurtful. "Because for once, I counted on someone. I counted on you! But after all, I don't even need a friend. I know I am self-sufficient. I don't need you. All I needed was a warning."

Tears slid down her cheeks, contradicting her words as I felt my heart falter. For some reason, I just couldn't handle seeing her sad- especially if it was because of me. I was not worth getting sad for.

I got up slowly and gently reached for both of her warm hands in my cold ones. "I am sorry," I repeated inexpertly, not knowing what else to say. She looked down before removing her small hands from my loose grip. I tilted my face to take a closer look at her. Her red face, her button nose, her rosy lips.

I stepped closer and pushed back some hair strands behind her ear with shaky fingers. Something about her proximity made me feel ridiculously vulnerable. Nervous even. I felt detached from the world when I was with her. Which was, needless to say, dangerous, because the world was attached to me and I couldn't escape it. Yet, I found it so difficult to remember my worries when I was with her.

Yes, this girl. She was lethal to me.

"I was scared for you," I found myself saying while shamelessly staring at her lips. "You don't know me," I said truthfully. "But Samara, you should know that whatever reasons kept me away from talking to you, it was for your good."

She stepped away. "That's your excuse? It was for my best?" She questioned disappointedly and I sighed heavily.

"It's true, Samara. I really don't know what I should say. But, look. Samara-" I paused to look at her hair that billowed around her soft face and under her black beanie. "-whether you will forgive me or not, is fine by me. I messed up, so I shall handle the consequences you choose. Even if you choose to remove me from your life, then be it. But-" I paused to take a deep breath and shoved my hands in my pockets as a cold breeze ruffled through my hair, sending some strands over my eyes. "There's a problem that needs your trust in me."

She looked away and tapped her feet, processing what I said. "And why should I trust you? Last time I did, you failed me. I trusted you with my secrets and feelings, the most valuable thing-"

"No, Samara. That is not the most valuable thing-" I stated too flatly and she raised her eyebrows.

"You don't think that's valuable?" She seemed shocked and my eyes widened in realization at what said.

"No!" I said quickly, shaking my head. "God, no," I then chuckled nervously. "That's not what I meant." I smiled momentarily. "The most valuable thing that you can trust me with, is your life, Samara."

She then laughed humorlessly. "Julius, do you even hear yourself? This whole thing sounds absolutely absurd! And every word you utter disappoints me in you more and more. I don't understand what you want. I don't understand why you're here- now after so long. And most importantly, I don't understand why you're saying this!" She almost yelled, wringing her hands exasperatedly.

"You don't understand because you won't believe me!" I tried explaining exasperatedly. "I told you I stayed away because I thought my presence would cause you so much trouble as Amanda said! And I'm here, now, to help you save the most valuable thing- your life!"

"You want to save my life?" She screwed her face and raised her eyebrows. "From what?"

"That's a remarkably long story, so can we please sit and discuss the matter like normal homo-sapiens without having people ogle at us like this?" I asked impatiently.

Samara bit her lower lip, then brushed back some hair strands from her sunglasses. "I am sorry." She then blurted and I was taken aback.

"Goddammit, why are you apologizing now?"

"Because sometimes I forget who I am and what people tend to see me as." Her voice dropped and I looked away, smiling at nothing in particular.

"And what do people see you as?" I asked softly.

"As a blind, vulnerable girl?" She said in a 'duh' tone. "As someone who has to be grateful for anything life throws at ′accidentally'?"

I frowned. "Is that how you see yourself?"

"Of course not. That's not how I see myself! I see myself as a person with potential, who's constantly undermined by people. Including my aunt who takes so much care of me, it's sickening. People tend to treat my disability. And I have no reason to consider you any different." She stated, wearing no expression on her petite face.

"I'm not going to argue with you about what you said. Because I might've absently done things that made you feel this way, and for that, I'm sorry. But I have much more pressing issues we must discuss-" I said dishearteningly, trying my best to push away the effect of her words. They obviously saddened me because when I was with her, I went out of my way to ensure that she didn't feel belittled. Because in my eyes, all I saw was a mighty, magical girl.

"I'm listening." She retorted sharply.

"Won't you sit down? Please?" I tried one last time, extending an arm- that she couldn't see- toward the bench. She seemed to have some inner conflict before she sighed and finally sat down.

I settled beside her and looked ahead of me. "What I'm about to tell you is quite...important. I want you to promise me that you'll believe every word I say and trust me without asking too many questions," I started carefully.

"I-"

"I know this is too much to ask. And I appreciate how difficult this will be for you but I seriously have no other choice. And know that I'm doing this just because I deeply care for you and wish you the very best. And this has nothing to do with our friendship. Or its status," I added bitterly and she nodded slowly with puckered lips. "So? Will you promise me?"

She turned to me seriously before looking in front of her. "Honestly? I don't-"

"Just please, trust me on this and don't freak out. Please, Samara," I pleaded and she sighed defeatedly.

"Fine. Whatever." She sighed softly. "But know that I'm still mad at you."

I dared smile at her comment -that I found absolutely adorable- as my heart fluttered irrelevantly in my chest. Yes, yes, I was losing my mind. And apparently, my heart too.

"Your name-" I breathed out nervously. "Is it Samara Ricardo Murd?"

Her head whipped toward me with her lips forming a surprised 'o'. "Yes." She whispered. "But I -uh- I never told you."

I shut my eyes with all my hopes that she wasn't the one, vanishing into thin air. "Samara." I lowered my voice and inhaled deeply. "It happens that I know the person who's responsible for killing your father."

At that, her foot taps stopped as she straightened up. "You do?"

"I do, but that isn't the main...predicament-" I replied hesitantly. "Samara, do you happen to know the reason behind your father's death?"

She frowned deeply. "Some documents. It's what he said his job revolved around."

"Exactly. Your father stole those of a very big company. And he used them to blackmail it," I stopped to study her face. Expressionless. "The owners think that you have them. So they've been looking for you all that time," I said urgently. "They were misled but now they know who they're looking for and they'll find you-"

She sucked in her lower lip and frowned. "Wait, I'm quite perplexed. Why are you saying all that all of a sudden? How do you know? What have you got to do anything with this? I don't-"

"I happened to tell you that you don't know me and I wasn't lying," I replied solidly and immediately noticed her hands tighten around her cane. "However, I'm here to protect you-"

"You knew who killed my father and you never told me? My father who must've had those documents to do something good! To extricate the evil! You knew?" She said, anger lacing her voice.

I swallowed hard. "I wasn't sure it was you- his daughter. I just got to know, I swear, and I was shocked too, Samara. But that's not the problem-"

"It is a problem for me, Julius!" She snapped and I watched her surprisedly. "It is! Do you know what I would do to him? Whoever killed my dad? I'll rip his soul out-" She said lividly as I felt my heart pound uncontrollably.

"Please, Samara, let me get to the point. All that ranting doesn't really matter-"

"Oh, it does! Cause you're going to take me to them, Caesar," she said, grasping my forearm.

"Samara!" I snapped impatiently. "You are at a disadvantage here. You're blind! What can you do? I'm telling you that those who killed your dad are after you and all you care about is revenge? Do you even know what they can do to a vulnerable girl like you? Do you even have the slightest idea how powerful they are?"

She removed her hand from my forearm and looked down.

I continued. "They know they're after a blind girl. They know that her father is Ricardo Murd, a famous lawyer. They know that he's dead. They know you're in your twenties. The only thing they don't know is your name. Samara. And I got to know that by mere luck. Dammit, if I've never met you, I would've never been able to help you," I said intensely. "So do you understand the situation now? You're weak and you need help. Any reckless move can cost your life. And I'd rather die than have you dead. Do you understand, Samara? I'd rather be goddamned!"

She nodded, letting out a stifled whimper. I closed my eyes wearily and sighed.

"Samara?" I muttered gently, looking at Samara's shaking figure as she cried softly. And honestly, for the first time in quite a while, I actually felt terrible. Terrible that I was telling her all that all of a sudden. That I was being brutally truthful and straight to the point with her (unfortunately this was the only way around such misfortunes). And most importantly, for lying and lying and lying to her.

I lied when I said I was there to 'protect' her. I mean, hell, how could her father's murderer protect her? I shouldn't lie to myself, I thought. My main motive, after all, was to get those damned documents from her to blackmail Father. I wanted this to be a game played by me and him. But I'd dragged so many people with me.

Yet, when the idea of embracing her while she cried popped in my head, things happened to me. Mainly, breathing difficulties, but I went for it anyway. Feeling my heart thump uncontrollably and heat rise to my face, I slowly wrapped my arms around her and pulled her closer to me.

Surprisingly, she didn't resist. I mean, I thought she was still mad at me. Women, I realized, are adorable, walking oxymorons.

She then buried her face in my chest and cried openly. I scooted closer to her, making her more comfortable, and reluctantly patted her hair with my other hand. It was so soft. I thought my heart would melt.

I hadn't touched anyone in a while and feeling her heat on my skin, fastened my breathing and dried my mouth.

She lifted her face to look at me. Red, wet face, parted, dry lips, and crooked sunglasses. Then a desire to see her eyes and her whole face overcame my senses. With one swift motion, I removed her glasses and she gasped. I found myself staring at vacant, milky-blue eyes. I took in her face. Her thick eyebrows, long, curled eyelashes, then her wide eyes. Her red, button-nose, red cheeks, parted lips, and straight, shoulder-length, black hair.

And yes, she was so magical, right there. In my arms, breathing heavily with tear-stained cheeks.

I let my fingers brush her wet cheeks gently as her eyes fluttered shut and her lips sealed. She was so beautiful. I even felt the urge to rest my forehead against hers and just stare and stare at her. I even remember ridiculously leaning in before being slapped back to reality by my consuming thoughts. I immediately put back her glasses over her eyes and pulled away from the embrace. She looked down and bit her lips.

"I'm sorry," I said distractedly.

"For what?"

"For everything I said. It's a lot but it's true."

"I believe you."

I looked at her with surprise. "You do?"

"I do and I can't help it." She said before pausing to clear her throat. "What do you reckon I should do?"

I smiled at her in relief. "For starters," I said pausing, pursing my lips, and clasping my hands. "-we need to visit a doctor. We need to get the earliest appointment for eye surgery. You have to start seeing again."