Valentines—A Scandal or a Date?

“If there’s any cage where I’d like to live,

then it’s the glasshouse in your soul.”

“It’s a scandal.” Rickard screamed.

The flashes of the paparazzi loomed over us. We sat transfixed inside the car, perplexed with the turn of happenings. It felt, a re-incarnation of a fiend, hogged over our mini trip to Dubai to celebrate the doomsday for the unwise souls, and lover’s day for the wise hearts…preferably, the valentine’s day. Ah…love. ‘Love’s, a healer yet a blasting mess,’ I chuckled, at the thought which ceased me even in that outrageous moment of our lives. We were caught off-guard by this sudden intrusion of dozens of those unseen faces preying outside on this rainy night, juggling with their cameras. All for what? To get one glimpse of the Billionaire Princess Sophie Evans for a headline in their tabloids. If this were the situation, before I met Rick, a beatific grin would have appeared on my face. In fact, in the greed of acquiring more limelight, I’d have danced for them on the roof of Audi. I lived for fame, controversies, and spotlight. It gave me an exhilarating power to authorize over my family, social circle, or the petty naysayers in our house staff who thought of me as a little horror. I was intrigued by the conversations they had, which I watched through the secret digital devices I had my personal assistant install when there was a theft and my mother lost her wits, like a typical hostess of the house. From our cook to the gardener, I am aware of the gossip that runs from discussing the popular lives of the Kardashian’s to West’s tweets— to the unamusing relationships of the Evans ancestors. It has to be a miraculous trick that they knew of my family history more than I. Curiosity has ears and evidence.

“What the fuck are they doing here?” Rick hollered, slamming his fists on the wheel. Often, I wondered, if he jumped straight out of a fictional world, ready to slice my confident nerves on which I laid the foundation of my influencing and writing career.

‘Rickard Rodrigues is your neighborhood peeping into your balcony types of guy who works as a Senior analyst in our rival firm, and he drives rented cars over the weekends and saves money for his mother’s surgery.’ There goes my perfect explanation of my first true lover who saw beyond my veil of a gratified girl while concealing her need to be loved. Our first meeting wasn’t by chance, it was something that happened when it was supposed to.

On a Christmas Eve, where families celebrated together, I’d found myself sitting alone in the Church’s lawn, admiring the iridescence hidden in the Californian set-up for a grandiose celebration, the next day. Tugging at the grass like a little child, I entertained myself, humming, ‘All I want for Christmas is you.’ Those lyrics possessed the power to convert me into a slight romantic even if romanticism wasn’t one of my attributes. So, it occurred to me that when I was lost in my tiny wonderland of dreaming of a prince charming who’d come to hold my hand for life, then, Rickard joined me. After a while, when I sensed his unusual presence, I gauged him keenly—a bearded face, having a pleasant smile on his lips.

“Oh, please, don’t stop on my accord,” his request struck in my ears. “You can do with a listener.”

I raised a brow at him, analyzing if he intended to flirt with me but when he shrugged his shoulders, his genuineness became apparent. “If you put that way then even this Princess can’t deny it, Mr…,”

“Rickard. And you’d be Sophie. Want me to add Princess, Ms. Evans?” He asked but added, “Please don’t assume that I’m making a conversation because of your high society status.”

Avoiding the urge to give him a mouth-smoldering response to a thought which acquiesced my brain cells then, I resumed singing and he listened…as an attentive audience to a loner’s show.

“Sophie!” Rickard’s grumpy voice ended the chain of our memory, making me stare at the swarm of reporters buzzing outside. “Who informed them of my whereabouts?” I asked a loud. It’s infuriating for Rickard to be with me around them; he disliked the glamourous lives and followed a modest approach. Rickard’s specific about our personal time together since we started officially dating in January after he asked me out in the most apprehensive way as if he feared my rejection. On our meet in the Church, we’d exchanged numbers and we began a casual chat whenever we were free. It went for a few months until he realized that it was time, he took the necessary step but even then, we followed his rules. No phones during dates. Not involving a third person in between our private affairs.

As much as I’d wanted to revolt against his first rule, I gave in because I harbored real feelings for him. He brought a mischievous yet loving side in me, reserved for him, and it appeased me that I can make him a happy boy. Sure, our status was a thing to be considered for our lifetime togetherness, but we decided to go with the flow instead of rushing things. We were keen to step into an unknown future and let life surprise us in its way.

Rickard has been saving extra-money for this trip, and if I weren’t in my control, I swear I’d have cried buckets at his gesture to make me feel special.

Until those hooligans who snooped on us when the rented Audi-R8 suddenly stopped in the middle of nowhere, and before we could find a solution, they trapped us, making Rickard curse my famous life.

‘Oh, this is what you got to go through for dating a public figure, love!’ I mumbled. “Why won’t they leave me alone?”

“You should have thought that when you informed them of our trip. You disclosed our whereabouts. How could you?” Rickard gritted his teeth.

“I didn’t.” I argued but he showed me his hand, silencing me right there and it’s over. It’s easier to not extend this conversation when I know, he’d boil me with his heated gazes.

Peering at the crowd, I ignored them, as my vision got struck at the glitz of the Burj Khalifa. As infuriating as it seemed to be bombarded by the extraneous questions being thrown over me, I admired the scenery of the Dubai Fountain being illuminated by the shadow of the lights. It went on as high as it’s speed permitted it to be, then dissipated down somewhere mingling with the rest of the lake.

From where our car stopped, it was still a faraway spot to get a clear glimpse of the world’s famous beauty, but as I have already been there once, I could exactly feel those gush of emotions I had when I took a boat ride to capture the image of it in my heart forever. Then, I’d carried a tiny desire in my heart to visit the Burj Lake again when I found true love, and as it dawned on me that my wish is about to get fulfilled, my lips broke into the broadest smile ever. I looked at Rickard, my hand raised to his face’s level, with the pad of my fingers, I caressed his ‘five o’ clock’ shadow. “I love you to the limit where my forgotten imageries are close to becoming reality.”

“I am not sure if this scandalous moment is right for you to confess your feelings,” he twisted his lips in utter annoyance. Though, it was replaced with a beam. Holding my fingers, he pecked each of them, reciprocating my love through his genuine actions. We heard the camera’s clicking—caught red-handed in an unexpected act of love, we didn’t stir on our seats but allowed them to produce a gazillion pictures of us. If the tabloid were a veil of my ice-queen image, then I’d like Rickard’s name to do the honors of breaking it. Love’s a game where you have more to lose than gain. Yet, what I confessed, I couldn’t have ever said in a million normal seconds of our any date or time together. Time! It did seem an illusion. It stopped existing since I came across this man who’d the power to mold me from wilderness to humbleness while persevering our individualities and maintaining his dominance in certain areas of our relationship. It can be tricky, but I wouldn’t have him any other way.

It’s a hard road from now onwards after our relationship will get exposed to the world. Instead of panicking, satisfaction enveloped the minutest fibers in me, for having Rickard by my side.

“Is there any place you’d like to be more emotionally than physically?” He creased my knuckle on top of his thigh.

“In your dreams if I haven’t been there already.” I teased.

“I assure you, Soph, you’ve hijacked those even before I had the luck to hear your voice,” he batted his eyelids.

Leaning closer to his ears, I blew air on his earlobe, whispering, “Your causality is a sign of your comfort with you obtaining the title of my latest boyfriend.”

“Stop.”

“We’re on a scandalous date, Sir.”

“And when did it become so?”

“Right when you grabbed my hand and placed it on your lap.”

“Are you trying to flirt?”

“Isn’t that all weirdo couples do?”

“They do much more than we will ever do.”

“Skip the bedroom details, honey.”

“So, what do No-weirdo couples like us do?”

“Avoid the couple doodad and embrace the flings business.” I answered in my ostentatious fashion as if I were old Sophie. Emotions were never my best of traits though I authored books that incited emotional intensity in relationships. I had never felt those in my life for I was too caught in the web of indifference towards common people until Rick changed my perspective regarding it. Still, it didn’t mean that I’ll allow any random person to mess me, and play, ‘Sexy-bitch’ with them.

Tonight, on the eve of love, I desired to feel Rick in my soul, coloring him with my smell till the dawn would crack open every obscured secret between us. Physical attraction will die, in its place, an emotional and mental connection will be born. Our valentines wouldn’t be on one day, but every day for the rest of our lives. A love that surpasses the boundary of touch, is a love that can withstand the hard rocks coming it's way. I intend to prepare us and make us stronger for the buzz, especially to face my parents after they’ll discover that I’ve been on a private holiday with a boy, they wouldn’t approve of, but they’ll eventually give in to my choice if they see, Rick makes me the most gratified girl in the whole bloody Universe. A bit of drama is expected from them, nothing huge to transform us into ‘bruised hyenas slipping into purgatory.’

Rickard draped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me in his warm shield; smoothening the fabric of his black linen shirt, I rested my head on his chest. Waving at the press, I urged them to continue with their work, as I explored my mini cave of love.

“I was never a fan of PDA.” Rick commented.

“You should be open to facing every kind of situation in your life, Rickard.” Emphasizing his full name, I pressed a quick kiss on his cheek. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“To you too, my heartmate, and now my drive-mate.” He gave a light peck on my lips. I groaned when he didn't deepen the lip contact. Guess, I'll have to wait for those 'toe-curling pecks' which compelled me to forget the luxurious lifestyle and involve in common herd.

I nuzzled in his neck, watching the fireworks scintillate the sky. It’s an extra-ordinary Valentine's pre-planned by me for us. Shh…