Seized -[Completed]

Questions

It's been a few days since I've seen you. I woke up to bags of clothes scattered across the floor, you must've brought them in as I slept. Which is odd, I always wake up when you come in. Always.

I creak out of bed shuffling over to the bags. Target, Hot Topic, and some shop name that I don't recognize. I pick through the Hot Topic bag finding so many band tees I think I may be in heaven. Sex Pistols, Slipknot, Metallica, Green Day even an In This Moment and Nothing More shirt.

I don't bother examining the jeans, I assume they're all fine. I just slide on a black pair and one of the Metallica shirts, taking a few moments to relish in the familiar feel of skinny jeans and a band tee.

Normal, somewhat normal.

I exhale deeply, preparing myself to exit the room. Preparing myself to finally face you alone in this house. The hallway is dark when I finally open the door, aside from the natural light coming from the living room window and my---the bedroom window.

I run my fingers over the pale grey walls, walking tardily through the living room and into the kitchen. You stand at the stove barefoot and shirtless with sweatpants hanging on your hips. I bite my lip, examining your back. It's quite normal, I don't want to say average because you're far beyond average I have to give you that. You're not unattractive---

Nope, just evil.

The thought enters my mind before I even have time to consider it.

You turn taken aback by my presence, gasping a quiet, "oh" at me. Briskly you pull your shirt back on, your eyes sweeping over my frame. I spot a black blur on the inside of your bicep and within seconds I've found myself standing right in front of you, pushing your sleeve up to see. You're holding your breath as I gently trace the lettering.

To the moon.

My hands drop suddenly, realizing what I'm doing. "I...it's...it's lovely." I mutter, stepping back hastily.

"Thanks." Your cheeks seem to color under the yellowy kitchen light, or maybe it's just my imagination. "The clothes, everything, uh, is everything okay with them or?"

"Yes!" I say a bit too briskly. "I mean, yeah, they're great. Thanks." I murmur, unsure if I'm embarrassed or intimidated. An awkward silence settles around us, the first awkward silence we've had. I clench the back of the dinning chair I've moved behind and you go back to whatever you were cooking.

You seem comfortable cooking, maybe you're just comfortable in general, who knows? I catch another black blur on your other arm as you stir the pot and I have to hold myself back from examining that tattoo as well.

"Why'd you decide to come out?" You question, glancing over your shoulder.

"I was curious, I guess." I shrug. "And I wanted to thank you for the clothes, you didn't have to get them---"

"I want you to be comfortable." You interrupt me and I scoff.

How ridiculous of you to say, how could I be comfortable here?!

Instead of stating what's on my mind I just nod and grumble a quick "yeah" to you, unsure how else I should react.

You sigh, setting the spoon you're stirring with down, moving to lean against the counter. You cross your arms watching me carefully. "You can sit if you want." You nod to the chair I'm still grasping.

"Okay..." Cautiously I pull the chair out and sit.

"Do you want something to eat?" You ask and I know your calculating my size, trying to determine how much weight I've lost.