She stared at the blank Notepad page on her computer screen. It demanded the presence of words she knew so well, but she was still without the sentiment.
Her fingers tapped unconsciously against the keys, still not allowing the characters to form. Her eyes looked towards the mug of coffee next to her hands. Like a memory remembered, she found a grip around the mug and took a long, full chug of air. It didn't strike her till after a minute. She took to staring at the coffee stains on the bottom of the mug, uncomprehendingly. What can this mean? It has to mean something, right? She sighed loudly.
Like a prayer being answered, her phone rang in loud jingles. I need to get rid of that sound. She nearly forgot to pick up, mesmerized by how much the noise bothered her and yet how it still remained her ringtone.
"Hello?"
"Oh, good. You're there. I'm coming over."
"What? No!"
"Oh, shut up. I am coming over. We need to talk."
Talk? What can he mean? We don't talk. Do we?
"Now isn't a great time."
"If you're talking about your unwashed hair and the leftovers rotting on your floor, I don't care. Open your door. Now."
She walked to the door and swung it open, narrowing her eyes at the man waiting there. "I don't have leftovers in the house to begin with." He responded by pulling her into a long and warm embrace. Okay. This might have been a good idea after all. Let's not tell him, though.
"I was right about the hair, wasn't I?" He chuckled into the curls atop her head, letting her go with a kiss on her temple.
She glared at him in mock indignation. "I wasn't expecting company."
"Good. Pizza?"
"Always."
"On its way."
She marvelled at how he knew her needs and desires so well. If only I could get myself to...Okay. Let's not go there, shall we? She smiled sweetly at him. Fortunately for her, he didn't notice the near-crazed grin. Either that or he was too used to her thinking to herself. He just didn't want to know anymore. I can live with that.
"What did you want to talk about?"
"A little bit of this and that." His nonchalant response only made her more nervous. She didn't want to deal with another session of having to explain her reasons to him. She had too much going on anyway. And no book nearing completion, either. She sighed inwardly at that thought.
"I'm busy, so get done with it fast."
"I also have beer."
She let out a delighted sound before looking at him suspiciously. He was a little too prepared today. What's going on? He can't possibly think I can be bribed, can he? Can I? She shook her head slightly to focus on the fact he was making himself home on her beanbag.
He settled himself, then looked at her. He smiled a bit, and patted an invite on the beanbag next to him. She went obediently towards the spot, as he opened a couple of bottles of her favourite beer.
Taking a few swigs, she felt at ease. She looked sideways at him. He looked contemplatively at the words she had painted on her wall with his help: It's your responsibility to make your life worth living. She followed his gaze, and then suddenly felt the shame rising in her face. Her words. How do I forget when it's written right there? She lowered her gaze at her bottle for a few seconds before gulping down most of the remaining beer.
He chuckled quietly at that. He reached out and ruffled her hair, letting it remain there while stroking her head softly.
"So. What did you want to talk about?" She dreaded the answer, but she wanted to get it over with.
He took in a deep breath, avoiding her eyes. Oh, boy. This doesn't look good. What now?
"I got the promotion."
She blinked in confusion. Wait, what? That's...good news! Do something! NOW! Right on cue, she squealed. "Ohmigosh! That's brilliant!" She nearly dropped her bottle, which just rolled away thankfully not spilling any remaining beer, and leapt to hug him hard. She almost choked his neck, but she was happy. Happy, so happy for him.
"It's in Bombay."
The hug relaxed. "What?"
"Bombay. I leave next week."
Slowly the hug came undone. There was a look of betrayal forming on her features. I knew there was a but! I knew it! Bad, bad news! Ugh! No, wait. Calm down. Good news. Happy. For him.
She tried to smile. It came out as a grimace. It hurt her face. She returned to the near empty bottle that had rolled away, chugging at the few drops and excess air.
"I should have waited for the pizza."
That elicited a slight choking sound from her. Damn it. I can't eat now. Damn it. Damn him. Damn, damn. She didn't know whether to cry at the fact that she wasn't going to be eating after all, or that he knew that about her.
"It's fine. You're being ridiculous. Pizza is celebration, of course." She wasn't aware of her monotonous voice and her unblinking stare at the wall that held the words that gave her distress away. "It's all good. Good. Good. Good news. All good." Good. I hate good. I hate it, oh so very much, right now.
He sighed again, this time pulling her beanbag closer to him, pulling her in yet another embrace. This one felt like he was pitying her. She struggled at once to get out of it. This isn't cool. Not cool, br..you, I mean. Not cool at all. He didn't let go, instead hugging her tighter still.
"What are you doing, man? You're ruining my hair." He didn't let go. She felt a slight surprise rise and die within her. Of course, he won't let go, he knows I need this. He knows it all. Screw him. Why must he know? Why him? Why? "Please." He still was quietly hugging her.
Then it hit her. Hang on. This doesn't feel right. Something else is up, isn't there? With that, she shook him off, jerking violently. "What aren't you telling me?" A slight anger took the place of the self-pity.
"Wha-at?" His voice faltered a bit. The doorbell rang. He sprung up into action. "Oh, good. Food. Let's go eat." He sounded a bit too cheery for the moment. She also jumped up, attempting to catch up with him. He had swung open the door by the time she reached there, to reveal the tantalizing scents of pepperoni pizza in the hands of the delivery boy. Trying to control her temper, she focused on the empty feeling in her growling stomach. Traitor.
He finished paying the boy. "Thank you, boss!"
"Yeah! Thank you!" She was always polite, if she could help it.
He was taking his time, trying to shut the door while balancing the pizza. Inwardly seething at the sight, she grabbed the pizza from his hands and shut the door with her hip. Expertly placing the pizza on her coffee table, she turned to face him. He was opening his mouth, no doubt to excuse himself for a 'quick' washroom break. Oh, no you don't. "Don't you dare."
"Hey..what? I was only..."
"Sit down."
"But I need to.."
"Sit. Down."
"..uh.."
"Now." She pulled him by the shirt, and forcibly pushed him down on her chair. "Talk."
"I don't.."
"Don't. Just talk."
"But..."
"Seriously. Cut the crap. What aren't you telling me?"
His mouth opened and shut a few times, no sound being made and mild panic in his eyes.
"Talk."
He looked like he was going to hyperventilate. She wasn't having any of it. She knew him well enough, too. Oh, no, you're not escaping this one.
"Talk!" She looked menacing, leaning her face nearer to his, her voice nearly murderous.
"Okay! Back off a bit, please? I swear I'll talk!" She moved backwards, but only a bit. A tiny bit.
"Give me a moment, please?"
"I'm waiting."
He looked like a lamb trying to escape slaughter, his eyes rounding up with a beseeching prayer. She was unmoved.
"Okay." Deep breathing ensued. "Okay." She narrowed her eyes, a large frown marring her pretty face. "When I get there, I'm.." Deeper breath.
"You're what?"
"I'm...I'm moving in with Rhea."
"What?!" She jumped back. "I'm sorry, did you just say you're moving in with..." She couldn't bring herself to say the name without the contempt creeping in. "With Rhea?!"
He mumbled an affirmative, staring hard at his toenails.
It was her turn to adopt the full use of her lungs. Oh. My. What the effing... TRAITOR! Her eyes were blazing now. He looked up to catch that just in time, and knew he must run. He sat there, trying to look sorry instead. Aaaarrrghhh! I want to kill you! I want to..don't give me those puppy eyes, asshole. Those beautiful browns..no. Focus. Don't you effing dare! Ugh! She couldn't move.
"Why?" Her now calm voice scared him more. "Why her?"
"I... I'm getting back with her." He felt the guilt eating at him. He was so sure he could handle this. This was really hard. What was he thinking? He now understood why she chose to not tell him most things like this. Not that she had done this, before. He felt the guilt weighing heavier on him.
"Oh. Okay." She moved backwards till she found herself falling back on to her beanbag. "Okay. Good for you." She got the coffee table near her, opening the pizza box. Swiftly, she pulled apart a slice and began to eat it. He stared at her. She chewed nonchalantly, fussing over the crust and pepperoni. He got up, walked towards her, picked up a slice and settled back in his beanbag seat, munching on his share quietly.
She got up after finishing the one slice, went over to her computer, and put on a comedy TV show. She didn't want to talk. He understood. He brought her another bottle of beer, leaving it open for her on the table, then meekly making his home on the chair next to her. She ignored him, but not the beer bottle. Screw him.
She was distracted for the next hour and half by the show, and by then she and he both had consumed enough pizza and beer to soothe them. He took the bottles and empty pizza box to the outdoor disposal, being extra helpful. She tried to not think of it as him apologizing, but her heart warmed a little bit at the thought. That, and she felt lazy. She felt like she should be mad for a little bit longer, however. So, she practised her fuming in the time he took to come back. She felt stupid for doing this.
I have to do this. I'm not going to let this happen to me again. Never again. It's not fair. But, he's such a darling. Maybe I can forgive him. Why am I pissed at him, again? Oh, yeah. Rhea. Stupid Rhea. Why her? Anybody else would have done, why her? But he really does like her, damn it. Shouldn't I be happy for him? I should be. It's his happiness, isn't it? It's his happiness that matters. Damn it. Stop thinking, fool. Stop it. Ugh. Stupid people. Stop caring. It's not my place to care. I shouldn't care. I don't care. Yeah. Not caring rocks. I think. FEEL OKAY, FOOL!
She let her face fall into her hands.
He walked back in the room to the sight of her shaking with her head in her hands. He felt something come undone in his resolve. He had chosen to not go there. It wouldn't do. It would be catastrophic right now. With that, he stopped listening to his conscience.
He strode towards her, and pulled her up with her shoulders. She gave a little yelp of shock at the sudden forceful grip, looking up with widened eyes to see a very determined look on the exceptionally handsome face before her. Was he always this good-looking? How did I not notice this before?
Before she could make any more sounds with her parted mouth, he had crushed his on it, sucking on her luscious lips for the sake of everything he held dear. He pulled her off the ground, cradling her in his arms as her legs and hands both found their way around him. Pushing away any furniture that came in their way, he dropped her with him following closely on the mattress on the ground, both of them wildly hungry to satiate the need in this new development.
Close to an hour later, they fell exhausted by each other's side. Slowly regaining the use of their voice and speech, they also found the strength to survey the room around them. A tornado couldn't have trashed the place any worse. She groaned and shut her eyes, and let her head fall back on the rug they were now partially on. He let out a nervous giggle and looked at her. Eyes still shut, she giggled in response too.
"Why did we never try this before?"
"I don't know! This is... awesome, right?" She didn't notice his voice nearly breaking.
"Yeah! Now, we can do this forev..." Her eyes flew open and her voice choked, as she suddenly remembered the flaw. He was watching her, his brown eyes covered with a sheet of tears ready to fall. Panic began to fill her rapidly, as she scrambled around for her clothes. He let the tears begin falling, as he calmly picked up his clothes around him and wore them.
She was still throwing around things frantically, trying to avoid being near him at all. Or looking at him. This isn't right. This can't be happening. No. This isn't happening. This just doesn't happen. She threw a cushion over her head and then a shrug. Both landed in front of him, as he stood there watching her break down.
He made his way towards the destructive female. She kept mumbling to herself, shaking her head as if to force herself to wake up from a terrible dream. He drew her violently restless body close to him, engulfing her within his calming hold, as he cried silently into her hair. She was screaming and thrashing now, but he kept pulling her close. Finally, she submitted to his embrace, burying her head in his chest as she melted into what seemed like a pool of despair.
They stood like that for what could have been an eternity. He let go of her gradually, pulled her tear-stained face up to his, and kissed her slowly and long. Reaching for one last touch of intimacy between them, she pressed herself against him. She then pushed him away gently, not wanting to look at him again. He took a step backwards, and then turned to leave.
"Bye, my love."
She didn't respond. He broke within, but left without letting it out.
At the sound of the door shutting, she looked in the space where he had been only a few moments before. Blinking a few times, she decided she was going to pretend nothing had happened. She realized the impossibility of that when she then looked at the mess she had to clean up.
Not wanting to cry again, she sat in front of her laptop. She saw the empty Notepad page open, waiting for whenever she was ready.
And then, she knew it was time. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, knowing exactly what must be typed.
"She stared at the blank Notepad page on her computer screen. It demanded the presence of words she knew so well, but she was still without the sentiment..."
Her fingers tapped unconsciously against the keys, still not allowing the characters to form. Her eyes looked towards the mug of coffee next to her hands. Like a memory remembered, she found a grip around the mug and took a long, full chug of air. It didn't strike her till after a minute. She took to staring at the coffee stains on the bottom of the mug, uncomprehendingly. What can this mean? It has to mean something, right? She sighed loudly.
Like a prayer being answered, her phone rang in loud jingles. I need to get rid of that sound. She nearly forgot to pick up, mesmerized by how much the noise bothered her and yet how it still remained her ringtone.
"Hello?"
"Oh, good. You're there. I'm coming over."
"What? No!"
"Oh, shut up. I am coming over. We need to talk."
Talk? What can he mean? We don't talk. Do we?
"Now isn't a great time."
"If you're talking about your unwashed hair and the leftovers rotting on your floor, I don't care. Open your door. Now."
She walked to the door and swung it open, narrowing her eyes at the man waiting there. "I don't have leftovers in the house to begin with." He responded by pulling her into a long and warm embrace. Okay. This might have been a good idea after all. Let's not tell him, though.
"I was right about the hair, wasn't I?" He chuckled into the curls atop her head, letting her go with a kiss on her temple.
She glared at him in mock indignation. "I wasn't expecting company."
"Good. Pizza?"
"Always."
"On its way."
She marvelled at how he knew her needs and desires so well. If only I could get myself to...Okay. Let's not go there, shall we? She smiled sweetly at him. Fortunately for her, he didn't notice the near-crazed grin. Either that or he was too used to her thinking to herself. He just didn't want to know anymore. I can live with that.
"What did you want to talk about?"
"A little bit of this and that." His nonchalant response only made her more nervous. She didn't want to deal with another session of having to explain her reasons to him. She had too much going on anyway. And no book nearing completion, either. She sighed inwardly at that thought.
"I'm busy, so get done with it fast."
"I also have beer."
She let out a delighted sound before looking at him suspiciously. He was a little too prepared today. What's going on? He can't possibly think I can be bribed, can he? Can I? She shook her head slightly to focus on the fact he was making himself home on her beanbag.
He settled himself, then looked at her. He smiled a bit, and patted an invite on the beanbag next to him. She went obediently towards the spot, as he opened a couple of bottles of her favourite beer.
Taking a few swigs, she felt at ease. She looked sideways at him. He looked contemplatively at the words she had painted on her wall with his help: It's your responsibility to make your life worth living. She followed his gaze, and then suddenly felt the shame rising in her face. Her words. How do I forget when it's written right there? She lowered her gaze at her bottle for a few seconds before gulping down most of the remaining beer.
He chuckled quietly at that. He reached out and ruffled her hair, letting it remain there while stroking her head softly.
"So. What did you want to talk about?" She dreaded the answer, but she wanted to get it over with.
He took in a deep breath, avoiding her eyes. Oh, boy. This doesn't look good. What now?
"I got the promotion."
She blinked in confusion. Wait, what? That's...good news! Do something! NOW! Right on cue, she squealed. "Ohmigosh! That's brilliant!" She nearly dropped her bottle, which just rolled away thankfully not spilling any remaining beer, and leapt to hug him hard. She almost choked his neck, but she was happy. Happy, so happy for him.
"It's in Bombay."
The hug relaxed. "What?"
"Bombay. I leave next week."
Slowly the hug came undone. There was a look of betrayal forming on her features. I knew there was a but! I knew it! Bad, bad news! Ugh! No, wait. Calm down. Good news. Happy. For him.
She tried to smile. It came out as a grimace. It hurt her face. She returned to the near empty bottle that had rolled away, chugging at the few drops and excess air.
"I should have waited for the pizza."
That elicited a slight choking sound from her. Damn it. I can't eat now. Damn it. Damn him. Damn, damn. She didn't know whether to cry at the fact that she wasn't going to be eating after all, or that he knew that about her.
"It's fine. You're being ridiculous. Pizza is celebration, of course." She wasn't aware of her monotonous voice and her unblinking stare at the wall that held the words that gave her distress away. "It's all good. Good. Good. Good news. All good." Good. I hate good. I hate it, oh so very much, right now.
He sighed again, this time pulling her beanbag closer to him, pulling her in yet another embrace. This one felt like he was pitying her. She struggled at once to get out of it. This isn't cool. Not cool, br..you, I mean. Not cool at all. He didn't let go, instead hugging her tighter still.
"What are you doing, man? You're ruining my hair." He didn't let go. She felt a slight surprise rise and die within her. Of course, he won't let go, he knows I need this. He knows it all. Screw him. Why must he know? Why him? Why? "Please." He still was quietly hugging her.
Then it hit her. Hang on. This doesn't feel right. Something else is up, isn't there? With that, she shook him off, jerking violently. "What aren't you telling me?" A slight anger took the place of the self-pity.
"Wha-at?" His voice faltered a bit. The doorbell rang. He sprung up into action. "Oh, good. Food. Let's go eat." He sounded a bit too cheery for the moment. She also jumped up, attempting to catch up with him. He had swung open the door by the time she reached there, to reveal the tantalizing scents of pepperoni pizza in the hands of the delivery boy. Trying to control her temper, she focused on the empty feeling in her growling stomach. Traitor.
He finished paying the boy. "Thank you, boss!"
"Yeah! Thank you!" She was always polite, if she could help it.
He was taking his time, trying to shut the door while balancing the pizza. Inwardly seething at the sight, she grabbed the pizza from his hands and shut the door with her hip. Expertly placing the pizza on her coffee table, she turned to face him. He was opening his mouth, no doubt to excuse himself for a 'quick' washroom break. Oh, no you don't. "Don't you dare."
"Hey..what? I was only..."
"Sit down."
"But I need to.."
"Sit. Down."
"..uh.."
"Now." She pulled him by the shirt, and forcibly pushed him down on her chair. "Talk."
"I don't.."
"Don't. Just talk."
"But..."
"Seriously. Cut the crap. What aren't you telling me?"
His mouth opened and shut a few times, no sound being made and mild panic in his eyes.
"Talk."
He looked like he was going to hyperventilate. She wasn't having any of it. She knew him well enough, too. Oh, no, you're not escaping this one.
"Talk!" She looked menacing, leaning her face nearer to his, her voice nearly murderous.
"Okay! Back off a bit, please? I swear I'll talk!" She moved backwards, but only a bit. A tiny bit.
"Give me a moment, please?"
"I'm waiting."
He looked like a lamb trying to escape slaughter, his eyes rounding up with a beseeching prayer. She was unmoved.
"Okay." Deep breathing ensued. "Okay." She narrowed her eyes, a large frown marring her pretty face. "When I get there, I'm.." Deeper breath.
"You're what?"
"I'm...I'm moving in with Rhea."
"What?!" She jumped back. "I'm sorry, did you just say you're moving in with..." She couldn't bring herself to say the name without the contempt creeping in. "With Rhea?!"
He mumbled an affirmative, staring hard at his toenails.
It was her turn to adopt the full use of her lungs. Oh. My. What the effing... TRAITOR! Her eyes were blazing now. He looked up to catch that just in time, and knew he must run. He sat there, trying to look sorry instead. Aaaarrrghhh! I want to kill you! I want to..don't give me those puppy eyes, asshole. Those beautiful browns..no. Focus. Don't you effing dare! Ugh! She couldn't move.
"Why?" Her now calm voice scared him more. "Why her?"
"I... I'm getting back with her." He felt the guilt eating at him. He was so sure he could handle this. This was really hard. What was he thinking? He now understood why she chose to not tell him most things like this. Not that she had done this, before. He felt the guilt weighing heavier on him.
"Oh. Okay." She moved backwards till she found herself falling back on to her beanbag. "Okay. Good for you." She got the coffee table near her, opening the pizza box. Swiftly, she pulled apart a slice and began to eat it. He stared at her. She chewed nonchalantly, fussing over the crust and pepperoni. He got up, walked towards her, picked up a slice and settled back in his beanbag seat, munching on his share quietly.
She got up after finishing the one slice, went over to her computer, and put on a comedy TV show. She didn't want to talk. He understood. He brought her another bottle of beer, leaving it open for her on the table, then meekly making his home on the chair next to her. She ignored him, but not the beer bottle. Screw him.
She was distracted for the next hour and half by the show, and by then she and he both had consumed enough pizza and beer to soothe them. He took the bottles and empty pizza box to the outdoor disposal, being extra helpful. She tried to not think of it as him apologizing, but her heart warmed a little bit at the thought. That, and she felt lazy. She felt like she should be mad for a little bit longer, however. So, she practised her fuming in the time he took to come back. She felt stupid for doing this.
I have to do this. I'm not going to let this happen to me again. Never again. It's not fair. But, he's such a darling. Maybe I can forgive him. Why am I pissed at him, again? Oh, yeah. Rhea. Stupid Rhea. Why her? Anybody else would have done, why her? But he really does like her, damn it. Shouldn't I be happy for him? I should be. It's his happiness, isn't it? It's his happiness that matters. Damn it. Stop thinking, fool. Stop it. Ugh. Stupid people. Stop caring. It's not my place to care. I shouldn't care. I don't care. Yeah. Not caring rocks. I think. FEEL OKAY, FOOL!
She let her face fall into her hands.
He walked back in the room to the sight of her shaking with her head in her hands. He felt something come undone in his resolve. He had chosen to not go there. It wouldn't do. It would be catastrophic right now. With that, he stopped listening to his conscience.
He strode towards her, and pulled her up with her shoulders. She gave a little yelp of shock at the sudden forceful grip, looking up with widened eyes to see a very determined look on the exceptionally handsome face before her. Was he always this good-looking? How did I not notice this before?
Before she could make any more sounds with her parted mouth, he had crushed his on it, sucking on her luscious lips for the sake of everything he held dear. He pulled her off the ground, cradling her in his arms as her legs and hands both found their way around him. Pushing away any furniture that came in their way, he dropped her with him following closely on the mattress on the ground, both of them wildly hungry to satiate the need in this new development.
Close to an hour later, they fell exhausted by each other's side. Slowly regaining the use of their voice and speech, they also found the strength to survey the room around them. A tornado couldn't have trashed the place any worse. She groaned and shut her eyes, and let her head fall back on the rug they were now partially on. He let out a nervous giggle and looked at her. Eyes still shut, she giggled in response too.
"Why did we never try this before?"
"I don't know! This is... awesome, right?" She didn't notice his voice nearly breaking.
"Yeah! Now, we can do this forev..." Her eyes flew open and her voice choked, as she suddenly remembered the flaw. He was watching her, his brown eyes covered with a sheet of tears ready to fall. Panic began to fill her rapidly, as she scrambled around for her clothes. He let the tears begin falling, as he calmly picked up his clothes around him and wore them.
She was still throwing around things frantically, trying to avoid being near him at all. Or looking at him. This isn't right. This can't be happening. No. This isn't happening. This just doesn't happen. She threw a cushion over her head and then a shrug. Both landed in front of him, as he stood there watching her break down.
He made his way towards the destructive female. She kept mumbling to herself, shaking her head as if to force herself to wake up from a terrible dream. He drew her violently restless body close to him, engulfing her within his calming hold, as he cried silently into her hair. She was screaming and thrashing now, but he kept pulling her close. Finally, she submitted to his embrace, burying her head in his chest as she melted into what seemed like a pool of despair.
They stood like that for what could have been an eternity. He let go of her gradually, pulled her tear-stained face up to his, and kissed her slowly and long. Reaching for one last touch of intimacy between them, she pressed herself against him. She then pushed him away gently, not wanting to look at him again. He took a step backwards, and then turned to leave.
"Bye, my love."
She didn't respond. He broke within, but left without letting it out.
At the sound of the door shutting, she looked in the space where he had been only a few moments before. Blinking a few times, she decided she was going to pretend nothing had happened. She realized the impossibility of that when she then looked at the mess she had to clean up.
Not wanting to cry again, she sat in front of her laptop. She saw the empty Notepad page open, waiting for whenever she was ready.
And then, she knew it was time. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, knowing exactly what must be typed.
"She stared at the blank Notepad page on her computer screen. It demanded the presence of words she knew so well, but she was still without the sentiment..."
