Tell Me You Love Me

41| Drain

Chapter 41: Drain (Brielle's POV)

I was in our room, sitting on the window seat but I was staring at the desk. It's a mess. Ms. Jenny couldn't even clean it because she couldn't figure out which papers belonged to which stack. He isn't cleaning it. Someone has to clean it because just looking at the mess is pissing me off. I think I was kind of a neat freak and didn't realize it until now. Well... not exactly a neat freak but I don't like it when something isn't organized at all. 

What even happened to the papers, I stacked them all and even put binder clips to separate them. The door opened and I looked at it as he walked in. 

"You." I stood up. 

He looked left and right as if someone else was standing there with him and then he touched his chest with a finger. "Me?" 

"Yeah, you." 

"Me," he nodded. "What?" 

"Clean this up," I huffed, gesturing to the desk. 

"What?" 

"It's a mess, what did you even do? I thought you said you didn't work while I was gone." 

"Uh, I didn't. But I did throw things around and rip papers," he cleared his throat, not moving from his spot. 

"Okay, well I think you should clean it. It's not fun to look at." 

"I thought this wasn't my room for now." 

"So? What does that have to do with anything?" I frowned. 

"If it's not my room then I can't clean it," he smirked, walking over and sitting on the bed. 

"If it's not your room then get off the bed," I retorted. 

He rolled his eyes and stood back up. 

"You made that mess. Before leaving I remember stacking all those papers and organizing them very neatly." 

He nodded in agreement, "Yeah they were neat piles. Until I ruined it." 

"Exactly. You ruined it. So fix it now." 

"I could but I don't want to," he sighed, sitting back down on the bed, leaning against the headboard before kicking his shoes off and pulling his legs up. 

"Why are you here?" I asked, moving over to the desk and starting to clean up. I started by throwing away all the ripped chunks of paper first. 

"To watch you," he said. 

I stopped but didn't turn around to face him. "To watch me? Doing what?" 

"Whatever it is that you choose to do." 

I looked at him over my shoulder. "Are you losing it?" 

"Maybe," he nodded, leaning his head back, not removing his eyes from me. 

"You're acting weird." 

"You started it." 

"Me?" I spun around to face him while leaning against the desk. "What did I do?" 

"Why did you choose to wear a skirt?" 

"Because I wanted to?" I said slowly but it came out more like a question. We both know that's not why I wore it. I wore it to get on his nerves. And when I walked downstairs for breakfast, I knew it would work. 

"Mm-hmm, right," he said slowly, narrowing his eyes on me. 

I rolled my eyes and went back to organizing the papers. I pulled out the chair and sat down, reading through each paper, separating one project from another, one company contract from another. I heard him shuffling behind me but I didn't spare him a glance.