Beneath the Boardwalk (Alex Turner)

11 {countdown to debt}

Everybody took up on his offer, and got out of his way. I was glued to my seat. Couldn't I just leave as well? Apparently not. When everybody was out, Turner stood there, inhaling deep, chin raised, watching me. I stood up slowly. "Okay..." 

He didn't say a word as I walked down the stairs, and then sat on the edge of the platform. I buried my hands underneath my sleeves. "Are you alright," I approach him. 

Turner blows out, and grimaces. "I'm doing great. Don't look at me like I'm some kind of monster." 

"I... wasn't." The roof of my mouth goes dry. 

"I need your answer now. I don't care what you choose, darling," he shakes a hand through his hair, which is unruly and messy. "In the next ten seconds."

I furrow my eyebrows. "Why so urgent?" 

"Nine," he enunciates. 

"Seriously, what's wrong?"

"Eight." 

"What? Why do you need the countdown," I grow genuinely worried. 

"Seven, Greene."

"You're acting like a kid, you don't need to count--"

"Six."

"Okay fine! I don't know."

"Five," Turner's voice gets lower. He hops off the platform, until he's right in front of me. "Four."

"I, uh--"

"Three," he growls. 

"Just stop counting, I need to think!" 

"No time. Two." His gaze is dark and soon the room around us seems to dim. "Now."

"Sure! Okay? I don't know!" 

"Is that a yes," Turner clarifies. "I need that specific word."

"Uh, yeah. I meant yes," I swallow, my stomach already regretting my decision. I'm not good under pressure. 

Turner smirks. "Now act like I'm saying something to seal the deal," he whispers. 

"What?" 

He leans in closer, his mouth by my ear, his breath hot. "We're being watched. Stop being so stubborn and nod like I'm telling you something important," he whispers. It sends chills down my spine, tingling on my neck. I can't find words. "I'll explain later, Greene."

When he steps back, his jaw brushes mine, and smiles like he never said anything about us being watched, like everything was going the same as before he did. Not like, me talking to him ever ran smoothly either. 

 "Let's head... somewhere else. Then I'll tell you all you need to know," Turner grimaces, straightens his suit. He nods, clears his throat and heads towards the door. 

I assume I follow him?

* * *

He drives us all the way to his apartment building, watching around us the entire time. I don't talk. Even if I did, I don't know what I would say--after all, what are you supposed to say? I was regretting my decision, bad. 

I follow him up the stairs. Are we still being watched now then? And I couldn't get the feeling of his breath on my neck. 

When he unlocks his door, he instantly starts climbing on his furniture, moving around the alarming amount of books on his shelves. The place is messy, but not dirty. Books stacking on the floor, scratched up couch. I'm suprised that it looks... utterly normal. Completely normal.