Free TICK to the TOCK (A Coming-of-Age Story) by Matthew Turner

 
    Looking in front, I understand why. The lively bustle of Paris dims, the volume turned down to a near inaudible hush. The birds stop chirping and the car horns blaring. The constant hum of chatter disappears and the sound of footsteps drift away. Danii's before me, perched on the edge of a suitcase, a beautiful half-silhouette in the hostel's shadow.

3 rd November—Paris:
    Recommended Listening:
    You’re Not Coming Home Tonight—First Aid Kit
    People Help The People—Birdy
    Flightless Bird, American Mouth—Iron & Wine

    The white in her eyes has a hint of pink, one I've never seen before. This is a girl I've stayed up all night with, nursed one hangover after another, and watched and analysed for hours. Never has the white been anything but serene, but here it is, tainted red and hurt.  
    Her soft, shiny hair absorbs the early morning sunlight, each layer of brown on full show, one after another after another. It hangs over her left shoulder, her index finger twisting and twirling a thick lock against her palm before it springs back to normal. Her smile isn't on show, instead, a pout that sends lines up her cheek.
    A strange churn rides up from my abdomen to the tip of my tongue. The headaches are torture, but this is worse. I want to walk to her, wrap her up and bury my head in her orange sundress littered with red and yellow flowers. I remember when she first bought this dress, and I also remember wanting to rip it from her and devour the slim body beneath, kissing my way from top to bottom.  
    Right now, I want to weep into it, make parts of the dress darker with my sorrow. Why is she here? I've spent restless nights pushing the thought of you away. We said our goodbyes. We had our time. I let you go, so why are you here?
    She continues her silence, her gaze locked on mine.
    "Well well well, I wasn't aware we'd invited the brothel's star attraction," says Wil, breaking the unbearable quiet and taking a few quick steps towards her. She doesn't move an inch. "I'd like to say it's a pleasure, Dani ELLA , but it really isn't."
    "Wilbur," she states, her stare unmoving. "Here I was, wondering if this situation might make you somewhat humane."
    "Funny how a dog talks about human—"
    "That's enough you two," says Ethan, standing next to Wil. He takes a few steps towards Danii and whispers something in her ear, breaking her stare for the first time.  
    I have no idea what he's saying to her, or indeed her reply. With a sudden chill, I'm cold, but it's not from a breeze or a change in temperature. It's a shiver from within.
    "Okay, enough niceties. I think it's time you get on your way—"
    "Wil, leave it!" says Ethan, spinning away from her.
    "Dante, m'lad, you don't owe this one anything," Wil says, turning to me and pointing backwards. "This isn't about her..."
    His lips move, but I take nothing in. My forehead is beginning to ache. She's here but I have no idea why, and why now... why now and not last week whilst I was still in York? She's had an entire month to come and apologise or shout or do whatever it is she's here to do. Why now? Why here? Why...
    "Wil, enough!" I say, clenching my fist. "I suppose we should talk," I continue, this time to Danii.
    "Dante, you don't owe her anything," Wil says, bowing his head into mine.
    "Wil, just... don't. I'm fine."
    I walk past her and up the steps separating us from the hotel lobby. It's a pleasant lobby although far from spectacular, but the three of us decided our first stop on this trip would be that of comfort. No hostels or one-star bargains. Instead, a place we can rest and prepare in style. Squalor awaits, this I'm sure, but for now, we cling to leisure.
    Walking single file through the lobby, we're surrounded by paintings and lamps. I start tackling the steep steps, and we remain in silence. I barely notice she's behind me, although I sense her, the smell of her, that smell I thought I'd never taste again. The mixture of honey and coconut, the dizzying aroma