Kiss Me Not

Celine.

The majority of my life was spent in an orphanage, a place that had become my home, and I had no idea who my biological parents were. They were completely unknown to me at that time, shrouded in a thick veil of mystery that I never fully grasped or understood. The administrator of the orphanage treated me with a tenderness that felt familial, almost maternal, which was something I had longed for. She was an admirable person, embodying kindness and compassion toward all of us children who lived under her care and protection. She once shared with me that after an extensive investigation, the police had discovered me lost near the airport, a bewildered child in a vast, unfamiliar world. They had speculated that my parents might have been foreigners, possibly from another country, looking for a way to escape something much larger than themselves.

But despite their efforts, they came up empty-handed, never even catching a glimpse of either of my parents, as if they had vanished into thin air, leaving no trace behind. When I finally came to my senses, it dawned on me that my parents had abandoned me on purpose, a realization that was both painful and bewildering. Why would they do such a thing? I had no answers to that haunting question, and it wasn’t something I had ever spent much time pondering or investigating. Perhaps I was simply resigned to my dreary karma, accepting my fate without question, feeling as if I had no choice but to move forward in this life.

It was not until that night that darkness enveloped my thoughts completely, casting a shadow over my heart. It was my 18th birthday, a milestone that should have felt celebratory and joyful. My friends from the orphanage, along with the manager and a few teachers, surprised me with a fantastic birthday party that I would never forget, a memory I would cherish forever. Their thoughtful gestures filled me with warmth and gratitude, making me feel special for the first time in years. We celebrated with delicious cake, joyous laughter, and dancing that echoed throughout the dimly lit room, creating a magical atmosphere that made me feel alive.

Exhaustion finally claimed us all, and one by one, we drifted off into slumber, except for me. The manager beckoned me to follow her to her office, her expression tinged with concern and seriousness. I could tell something was troubling her, as if she were on the verge of sharing some unsettling news that would change everything for me.

Panic began to bubble within me, a feeling I couldn’t shake, and my mind raced with all kinds of terrible scenarios. Yet, it never crossed my mind to wonder what she might reveal, what important information she was holding back. When she caught me yawning, she turned to me with a stern look over her shoulder and repeated, "I told you to follow me, Celine. Now, let’s go to my office. It’s important."

I blinked in confusion and hesitantly asked, "Could we please talk first thing in the morning?" I tried to maintain my politeness, though my frown betrayed my growing worry and anxiety.

She rubbed her temples in frustration and firmly replied, "No, now. We need to discuss this immediately."

With a heavy sigh, I trailed closely behind her, my heart pounding in my chest. Upon arriving at her office, I lowered my gaze respectfully, placing my hands at my sides, trying to appear composed despite the turmoil within me. She sighed deeply and slumped into her chair, her expression weary and burdened. "Celine. You're eighteen now. What exactly are your plans for the future? What do you intend to do next?"

I stepped closer to her desk, my smile awkward and uncertain, filled with a mix of hope and dread. "Plans for what exactly? Please excuse me, but I don’t quite understand what you mean."

Nothing made sense to me! I couldn’t adjust to her stern demeanor or her serious tone. She was usually so kind and gentle, like an angel in disguise, but now she seemed anxious and troubled, as if grappling with something significant that weighed heavily on her heart.

She fidgeted nervously with her fingers, unsure of how to begin. After a moment that felt like an eternity, she exhaled deeply, stood up, and approached me. The distance between us felt like mere inches, and I could sense the gravity of her words, the weight of the moment settling around us. "Celine, you are required to leave the orphanage by morning in accordance with the policies of the facility. This is not a decision I take lightly."

I was flabbergasted, my breath catching in my throat as I struggled to comprehend her words. "Leave? How? Where? To what end? You're kidding, right?" I struggled to smile, hoping against hope that she was joking or perhaps had found a job for me or some other opportunity that would allow me to stay.

She lowered her hands and began to mumble through her explanation. "You have to get out of this place and learn to rely on yourself. For many years, we have taken care of your needs, but now is the time for you to find the things that will make you happy—like a job, a house, and eventually a family of your own. You can't stay here indefinitely, Celine. It's time to face the world."

My heart raced, pounding heavily in my chest as I processed her words. The nervousness washed over me in waves, making me break into a sweat, my palms clammy with fear. I felt a panic attack rising within me. "No, please don’t evict me from this establishment! Since I was a child, I haven’t ventured beyond these four walls. I have no friends, no family, and nowhere to go because I am homeless! Please," I begged her, desperation creeping into my voice. Tears began to cascade down my cheeks, a heartbreaking sight that shattered my resolve and left me feeling utterly lost.

Where on earth was I supposed to go?

She moved closer, cupping my cheeks gently with her hands, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears that mirrored my own sorrow. "I'm very sorry, Celine. Unfortunately, I can’t help you. Except—"

She offered me a few dollars, wiping my tears away with a tenderness that felt both comforting and heartbreaking. "I don't have much money, but you know that already. This is the best I can do for you. I sincerely apologize, but the time has come for you to pack your belongings and leave in just a few hours. I wish you the best of luck in whatever comes next for you."

When I attempted to speak, the words caught in my throat, tangled in a web of emotion. Even before I left the building, I felt as if I were already living on the streets, a chill creeping into my bones. I rarely left the orphanage unless it was for a group outing, like a picnic or a doctor’s appointment—once a year at most! How could I possibly survive on my own?

I dropped to my knees, clutching the hem of her dress in desperation. "Please, hear me out! If you need a maid, I’m available. I can help! Please let me stay here. I haven’t even completed the minimum requirements to get a job anywhere. I need more time."

That was true, to some extent. I had been awarded a high school diploma designed specifically for homeschoolers, which, in the grand scheme of things, didn’t really mean much in the job market, especially in a world that felt so big and daunting.

She helped me to my feet, her voice firm yet tinged with sadness that echoed my own. "Could you please leave now? Leave my office immediately. And I don’t want to see you when you return in the morning. It's for your own good."

She turned her back on me, a gesture that felt like a knife to my heart, cutting deeply into the bond we had formed. I had treated her as if she were my actual mother, someone who would care for me unconditionally!

As I walked away, I could feel the ground trembling beneath my feet, each step heavy with the weight of my despair. I struggled to breathe normally, my vision blurring from tears that refused to stop. But I had no choice. I sobbed uncontrollably, dragging my feet as I awaited the dawn, the first rays of light that might bring clarity. I had made up my mind to leave at that very moment, even if it terrified me.

I wouldn’t say I enjoyed saying my goodbyes, and I certainly didn’t want to see my friends crying, their faces etched with worry.

I packed my bag for the journey ahead, dressing in the only jeans and shirt I owned that were still in decent condition. I didn’t have much in the way of clothing, and I fled into the shadowy streets, heading toward a fate that felt ominous and uncertain, the future stretching out before me like an uncharted path.

I walked and walked, trembling with fear the entire time. No one had stirred from their slumber yet, making the place feel desolate and abandoned, like a ghost town, echoing with the silence of the early morning hours.

I turned my gaze to the moon, silently pleading with God to deliver me from this nightmare, to show me a way out of my predicament. I was truly in a bind. With only a few dollars, I knew I could never afford to rent a room! The realization sank in, heavy and suffocating.

Suddenly, as I wandered down the street, contemplating my next move, an idea sparked in my mind. But just as I thought I had a plan, I narrowly avoided being struck by a car barreling down the street.

I was so terrified that I screamed, instinctively shielding my face with my trembling hands. Thankfully, the driver spotted me and brought the car to a stop just inches away, narrowly avoiding a catastrophic collision that could have broken every bone in my body and shattered my already fragile existence.

A man, strikingly handsome, exited the vehicle and rushed over to me, concern etched across his features. "Are you okay? Did something happen to you?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

I slowly raised my head, meeting his wide hazel eyes, filled with compassion and kindness. His tousled blonde hair caught the moonlight, and I was captivated by the contrast, the warmth radiating from him. I let out a nervous sigh. "Not at all, I’m afraid. I think it’s just my actions that have led me here, to this moment."

He offered me a friendly smile, gently tilting my chin up with his hand, as if trying to reassure me. "It’s okay. Don’t freak out. What are you doing out here all alone? This place is dangerous. I can give you a ride anywhere you need to go," he offered, extending his hand to me in a gesture of kindness that felt foreign yet inviting.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry and scratchy, and refrained from speaking, unsure of how to respond to his unexpected and generous offer of help. The weight of my situation pressed down on me, making it difficult to think clearly. My mind raced, grappling with both fear and a flicker of hope. Did I really want to accept help from a stranger? The thought sent shivers down my spine, yet the desperation of my circumstances urged me to consider it more closely.

He tilted his head slightly, curiosity shining in his warm hazel eyes, and his expression softened as he studied me. "What’s your name?" he asked gently, as if he wanted to let me know that I was safe with him, that I could trust him. His voice was calm and reassuring, cutting through the fog of anxiety clouding my thoughts.

I mustered a smile, albeit awkwardly, feeling a flutter of hope amidst my fear and uncertainty about what lay ahead. "I’m Celine. And I just turned eighteen a few days ago," I replied, the words tumbling out of my mouth as I felt a strange mix of pride and vulnerability. It was a significant milestone, yet I felt lost and unmoored at this crucial juncture in my life.

It was true; I had never been this close to a guy in my life, and the proximity felt electrifying yet intimidating. I felt so out of my element, flushing like a foolish schoolgirl caught in an embarrassing moment, overwhelmed by the mixture of emotions swirling within me. The tension in the air seemed to thicken as I stood there, grappling with feelings I had never fully understood before.

He nodded, a playful grin spreading across his lips, breaking the tension that hung between us like a heavy fog. "But I didn’t ask to see your ID. I’m not a cop, you know," he teased lightly, attempting to lighten the mood. His easygoing demeanor made me feel a little more at ease, yet I remained cautious, my instincts warning me to tread carefully.

I quickly averted my gaze, feeling a rush of embarrassment flood my cheeks, and muttered softly, "Excuse me." My heart raced, and I could feel my pulse quickening as I tried to gather my thoughts. The situation felt surreal, and I struggled to find my voice amidst the chaos of my emotions.

He opened the passenger door of his car and gestured for me to get in. "Come on. I’ll give you a ride home. You shouldn’t be out here alone," he insisted, his tone firm yet gentle. The offer felt like a lifeline thrown to me amidst a stormy sea, but I hesitated, torn between gratitude and fear.

In a moment of irritation mixed with fear and frustration, I blurted out, "I don’t have a home! I just turned eighteen, and now I’m supposed to leave the orphanage, and—" My voice trembled as I spoke, each word spilling out in a rush, revealing the depth of my anxiety and desperation.

He interrupted me, his tone warm and generous, filled with sincerity. "I’ll take you up on that offer—come live with me. I have no objections. I can help you find your footing in this world," he said with conviction, his eyes sparkling with a kindness that made me want to believe him, even as doubt lingered in the back of my mind.

As a child, I remembered the lessons our teachers instilled in us: never trust strangers, a mantra that echoed in my head. I shook my head slightly and bent down to grab my bag, my heart pounding with uncertainty and fear of the unknown. "Thanks for the offer, but it’s time for me to leave. I can’t impose on you or take advantage of your kindness," I insisted, torn between the desire for help and the fear of burdening someone else.

Yet, as soon as I set foot on the pavement, his strong hands grasped my arm, pulling my bag away from me with surprising gentleness and urgency. "You’re not going to end up like that. I’m not a killer. I’m an orphan too, just like you," he reassured me, his voice firm yet compassionate. There was something in his eyes that made me pause and reconsider my instinctive distrust.

I slowly turned to meet his dazzling hazel eyes, searching for the truth in his words, desperate to find a glimmer of hope within the overwhelming darkness of my situation. It was difficult to discern his intentions, but something about him felt genuine. Judging by his attire and the car he drove, I was reasonably sure he wasn’t a dangerous person, but rather someone from a typical middle-class family who might understand my plight more than I initially thought.

I sighed, a mixture of relief and apprehension flooding through me as I weighed my options. "Okay, but only for a few days—just until I can find a job and a place to stay. I promise I won’t be a burden," I said, my voice steadying as I made a decision. The thought of living with someone else, even temporarily, felt like a leap into the unknown, yet it also felt like the only viable option.

He affectionately patted my head as if I were a child, his kindness overwhelming me in a way I hadn’t expected. "I’ll help you find work. Don’t worry about it. Let’s get out of here quickly because, honestly, this area is crawling with trouble. You can’t count on me to keep you safe forever, but I can at least help you for now. Let’s find you a better place," he said with a reassuring smile, igniting a spark of hope in my heart that perhaps everything could still turn out alright.

Celine.

I immediately wrapped my trembling arms around his strong shoulders, feeling a rush of emotions flood through me, a whirlwind of fear mixed with a strange exhilaration that I couldn’t quite comprehend. "Oh my God. Are you serious? Okay, let's go!" I exclaimed, my heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension, unsure of what lay ahead but feeling an undeniable urge to escape my current situation. He gave me a chuckle, a light, warm sound that eased some of my anxiety, before assisting me in getting into the passenger seat of his car with a gentle touch, making sure I felt comfortable. He took my bag from my hands with surprising gentleness and placed it carefully in the back seat, ensuring it was secure as if it contained something precious. After that, he turned around and settled himself into the driver’s seat with an air of confidence that made me feel a little more at ease. He adjusted himself into a comfortable driving position, his hands gripping the steering wheel in a relaxed manner, and then he glanced over at me, a hint of a smile on his lips. "I'm sorry, but my car is not a fancy one. A young lady like you ought to—"

He dwelt on his words for a few seconds longer than usual, leaving me hanging in suspense, and I felt a spark of curiosity ignite within me, eager to know what he would say next. I inquired with a sense of wonder, "Should what?" My eyes searched his face, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. His eyes flickered toward me, reflecting a mix of amusement and seriousness that added to the strange tension in the air. He was driving so slowly that it felt like he was moving at a snail's pace! I glanced out the window, watching the world pass by in a blur of colors. He leaned slightly to my side, as if to emphasize his point, and I felt a rush of warmth at his proximity. Seriously, I felt as though his car could stop working at any moment and that the engine might just fall apart beneath us. He acted as if I should be driving an extremely pricey vehicle instead, or at the very least, be seated comfortably in the back of a luxurious limousine, complete with plush leather seats and tinted windows that shielded me from the outside world.

He was very skilled at filtering his thoughts, and I became red in the face, biting my lips together in embarrassment as I sincerely thanked him for his kindness, trying to shake off the unease that clung to me. "You're a virgin, I bet," he made the remark completely out of the blue, catching me completely off guard. The shock of his words sent my heart racing, and as if he were about to assault me, I threw myself against the door that was next to me in a panic, my breath hitching in my throat. "W-why are you saying that?" I stutteringly asked, my voice trembling with fear and confusion, desperate to understand his sudden shift in conversation.

The car came to a sudden halt in the middle of the road, and he turned his head to look at me, his expression serious and intense. "Why are you so afraid of talking to me? You know I'm not a bad person, don't you? I would never touch you, much less rape you or do anything else inappropriate to you. Now I have an offensive feeling." His tone was firm, and he looked genuinely bewildered, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing, shaking his head in disbelief at my reaction.

I made a puppy face, my eyes wide with regret and vulnerability. "Sorry, I haven't met guys before. I'm trying to say that I've never had a conversation with anyone outside of the orphanage." The weight of my admission hung heavy in the air. Even though he whispered, "It's okay," his expression remained angry, and I could see the frustration building within him as I struggled to explain myself.

I apologized again, feeling the need to clarify my intentions. "Sorry. It was not my intention to make you feel bad by accusing you of anything. I apologize. I am just scared." My heart raced as I felt the weight of the moment, hoping he would understand my fear and not take my anxiety personally.

Out of the blue, he introduced himself by saying, "I'm Lucas." Then he gave me a gentle smile, brightening the atmosphere around us and easing some of my tension, and gently pulled my hand toward him to shake it. "Celine, it's a pleasure to meet you. Please trust me." Despite my unease, my response was a nod and "Okay, nice to meet you too, Lucas." I felt a flicker of hope at that moment, wishing that perhaps things might turn out alright and that I could find solace in his presence.

After that, he raised an eyebrow, curiosity dancing in his eyes as he assessed me. "I take it you've never been in a relationship with a man. I mean, you've never had a conversation with a single guy, right?" His question made my cheeks flush with embarrassment, and I covered my ear with a strand of my hair, looking down at my lap to hide my discomfort as I grappled with the truth of his words. "I've never talked to a guy in my entire life," I admitted, feeling vulnerable yet oddly liberated by my honesty.

He hummed thoughtfully, "Hmmm, that's cute." His words made me feel a mix of embarrassment and warmth, as if he were genuinely charmed by my innocence and naivety. Then he started driving again, returning to the road until he came to a stop by some guys who were standing on the street corner. They appeared to be mobsters because they were dressed in all black, their postures intimidating, looking around like they owned the place, blocking the road as if it were their territory. I had seen this type of thing in action movies, and the fear that washed over me was palpable, causing my heart to race in my chest. I glanced over to the side and saw a guy sitting there with a gun, its metallic gleam catching the light in a way that made my stomach twist with anxiety.

Lucas's words reached me just as I was about to leap onto his chest and hide from the danger that seemed to loom over us. "Don't be anxious. They are my friends. Innocuous," he assured me, though I couldn't shake the feeling of dread that settled in the pit of my stomach. I made sure to keep a close eye on both him and them, my heart pounding in my chest like a drum. After he rolled down his window, a man walked up to Lucas and handed him something to hold, his demeanor casual yet predatory. After that, Lucas reached into his pocket and gave him a few dollars, the transaction feeling heavy with unspoken implications. "Is she with you right now?" This guy asked Lucas, his gaze drilling into me as if I were some sort of commodity, an object to be appraised and evaluated.

In a low and mumbling tone, Lucas replied, "Indeed, she is siding with me. Why?" His voice was firm, but I could sense the tension in the air, a silent battle of wills playing out before me. The man arched his brows and made a disturbing offer, "Give her to me, and I will give you a lot." My heart dropped at his words, and a wave of panic surged through me. What are they offering?! My mind raced, and I felt completely trapped, unsure of how to react to the bizarre situation unfolding before me.

Their words were incomprehensible to me, swirling in my mind like a cryptic code that I couldn’t decipher. It was more like deciphering hidden messages or something sinister lurking beneath the surface. Lucas scratched his chin thoughtfully before looking at me and smirking while saying, "No, she's safe with me." The other guy let out a sigh, his expression revealing frustration and annoyance. "Okay, dude. Imagine that you had the option to sell her at any time. I am going to wait here. She is very pretty." At that moment, I desperately wanted to run away, but Lucas had assured me that I was safe in his care, so I refrained from doing so, my instincts battling against my trust in him.

The vehicle was driven by Lucas, who remained silent and didn't say anything else as he pulled away from the men, leaving their presence behind us. When we got within a few blocks of our destination, just as he was about to exit the car, he turned to me and said, "I told you to have faith in me. Nothing to be afraid of. You're under my protection." His words helped ease some of my stress, but not all of it; doubt still lingered in the corners of my mind, reminding me of the danger I had just witnessed.

I hiccupped and asked him in a hesitant tone, "Okay, but what about that other guy? I saw several of them carrying firearms in their hands." The thought of those weapons made my stomach churn with anxiety, and I felt my heart race with fear.

He cocked his head to the side, his expression serious and unwavering. "It is best that you put what you have witnessed out of your mind. If you bring up their existence, you put yourself in danger and could even lose your life. Okay? That's for your own protection." His words were stern, and I felt the weight of his warning settle on my shoulders like a heavy blanket.

I started obeying him right away, nodding in agreement with a sense of urgency. "Okay, I didn't see anything. I promise." I tried to convince myself that I could forget the encounter, but the image of those men lingered in my thoughts, refusing to fade.

He gave me a friendly smile before taking my hand in his, his touch surprisingly gentle and reassuring. He kissed the top of my hand in a soft, tender way, sending a shiver down my spine as I felt a flicker of warmth spread through me. "God bless you. And rest assured that I will look after you. I promise you." His kindness was comforting, yet there was something unsettling about him to me, a dissonance that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. What exactly that was, I was unable to determine. He didn't look like he was dangerous or anything, but something about his behavior was making me feel a little bit confused and wary.

He got out of his car all of a sudden, grabbing my bags with ease and determination, and dared me to follow him to his apartment right away, his demeanor shifting to one of authority. I hesitated for a moment, looking around as I took in my surroundings, my heart racing with uncertainty. I glanced in all directions. It appeared to be a run-down section of town, with graffiti-covered walls and dilapidated buildings surrounding us, a stark contrast to the life I had known in the orphanage. On the other hand, it didn't bother me too much. The extravagant homes and lavish lifestyles I had only ever seen in movies took some getting used to for me, and I felt a strange sense of relief at being out of the orphanage. For the entirety of my life, I had been housed in an orphanage, a place that had become my only home. We were all crammed into one large room, which had several different bunk beds lined up against the walls. Therefore, it was beneficial for me that I wasn’t living on the streets by myself, alone and helpless.

The thing that bothered me, however, was how he anticipated that I would compensate him for his favor. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was an expense associated with everything in life, and I was wary of what that would mean for me in this situation, anxious about the debt I might owe him. Right?

I stayed behind him all the way up until we reached the third level, my heart pounding with each step. No elevator, just stairs. Stairs that were old, worn, and broken, creaking under our weight. He even stopped in the middle of the path and warned me to "watch out, the broken stairs." I carefully navigated the treacherous steps, my mind racing with worry and uncertainty, feeling as though each step could lead to disaster.

Finally, we arrived at his humble apartment, and I was surprised to see that the inside was quite spacious. The walls were painted a warm color, and there was a cozy feel to the place that took me by surprise, making me feel a little more at home. The fact that he turned the lights on and locked the door behind us caused me to experience a brief moment of shock, a thrill of fear racing through my veins as I realized I was now truly in his space.

"Don't worry," he said with a chuckle, trying to ease my nerves as he noticed my hesitation.

He grabbed my hand and took me on a hurried tour of the house, his excitement palpable as he pointed out various features. "There are three separate rooms in this building. One for each of us, with the remaining space being left unoccupied. Anything you want to do can be done in your room." His words filled me with a mix of hope and trepidation, a strange combination of fear and excitement coursing through me.

After taking a look around my room, I remarked, "It's nice." It was satisfying, a far cry from the cramped quarters of the orphanage that I had grown accustomed to.

I heaved a sigh of relief and took my bag away from him, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on me. "I appreciate your help. But I do want to cover the cost of the room. Now, tell me how much money that set you back. Please." I wanted to make sure I wasn’t a burden to him and that I could stand on my own two feet, determined not to owe anyone anything.

He leaned in close to my face, his eyes searching mine, and tilted my chin so that I could look directly into his eyes, which held an intensity that made my heart race. A wicked smile spread across his lips as he said, "It costs you."

What! My heart raced as I processed his words, and I felt a mixture of confusion and alarm wash over me. What could he possibly mean by that? The implications hung heavy in the air, leaving me uncertain and anxious about what lay ahead.