AIM Convo || Aria & Derrick
"All set and ready to go?" Aria asked gently. Ever since the revelation of Derrick's illness, they had been quiet. There was no more witty banter. No more insults freely thrown at each other. Aria had sat in the corner of the room waiting for him to be conscious. Now he was going out of the country. So was she. And her worry for him escalated.
"Yeah I am. I've packed a few days ago." Worry was plastered all over her pale face. Aria is always anxious but she had been intensely anxious ever since he told her what's wrong with him. They had found him at the brink of unconsciousness. Don't tell Evie. Please. He wanted to be the one who told her. At the right time. Derrick had demanded himself to be discharged from the hospital to Aria's dismay. "I'd ask whether you have packed for your trip but hey, you're always prepared way beforehand." A playful grin had carved itself on his lips.
"Good move," Aria said, smiling wistfully. She looked down to her fingers before looking back up, meeting his olive gaze. "When are you going to tell her?" Aria didn't want to broach the subject but Evie has to know.
"At the right time," Derrick said conclusively. He knew this conversation will come up. And he didn't like it. He swirled his cup of coffee before sipping the bitter liquid.
She heard his dismissive tone but Derrick should know better than to dismiss her like that. "During the trip? Isn't that inconvenient?"
"When I'm ready.... Look, can we talk about something else?" he insisted.
"Derrick, I don't want her to find out when you're lying unconscious on French grounds. I don't want her to find out when it's too late." Her voice raised louder than Aria intended it to be.
"You think I haven't thought of that?" His iron-clad voice was slightly trembling. "You think I didn't think that I could just drop dead?" He turned from her, banging the table -- not hard enough to startle anything on its surface. "I have. You don't know how many times it has replayed in my mind every single night I fall asleep."
The heaviness in her chest twisted, making it hard to breathe. "I... I didn't mean to..." Moisture had glistened over her teal hues as she watched shadows after shadows passed his face. "I'm sorry, I just..." Aria sighed exasperatedly, reaching out for his cold freckled hand.
He pulled away from her touch, avoiding her gaze. "I know what I'm doing, Aria." Picking his wallet from his pocket, Derrick opened it and fished out several quid and threw them on the table. "I have to go," he said thickly and left the table.
Aria expected it. She expected him pushing her away. It wasn't the first time. And it won't be the last. As she watched Derrick move away from her and their table, she felt helpless. How is she going to be in Iceland with Toby and Maxine and not think if Derrick is safe the entire time? Evie would be there, Ella chided. Let the idiot take care of the idiot, she snapped. Her fingers clenched into fists, pushing Ella out. She had half a mind to text Evie and tell her everything. But she'd risk it. This was Derrick's burden. Not hers. She turned to the window and watched the lanky, freckled man cross the street. It wasn't up to her. It was up to him.