Little Girl Blue - 𝐖𝐋𝐖

𝐈. Philia - Seventeen

I don't think she was purposely slamming doors or stomping. With how fast she was moving and how angry she was, I was lucky she was able to keep her eyes on the road. "I told you not to do anything stupid." She growled through the hallway, rolling into the kitchen when she kicked off her shoes.

I knew she saw when I got in the car. She didn't say anything, just drove and kept her head straight. But once we got back to the house, something released. A fire in her eyes, a subtle storm on the way.

Wincing, "I didn't."

Her hand was on the nob of the cabinet when she looked at me for the first time, "You kiss guys you barely know, sober?"

"Jane, calm down," I pleaded and moved to grab ahold of her tense shoulders, "I wasn't drunk, okay? We were playing a game and he kissed me." I needed her to believe me.

"And you kissed back." The cup in her hand seemed so close to breaking. Her fingers digging into the sides and burned red at the tips.

I took the cup away from her, trying to pry it from her grasp so I could capture her attention. Her mind was elsewhere, doing very little for the ideas she already had in her head. "Don't tell me you're seriously mad at me." Looking up I saw the sag beneath her eyes, dark and hallow. I could feel myself starting to whine.

She let out a large breath , looking down at our interlaced fingers. "This is me trying," She let go. The door of the old cabinet creaking behind her as it shut. Against the floor, her little feet shuffled until her front was pressed to the sink, peering out the window like she always does when she in thought. She drank her water, never breaking her stare with the stars and moon. Her head shook as she scoffed.

"What?" I watched her go to fill the cup with more tap.

"I have been really patient with you, Florence, so if you see no problem with this, than neither do I." She shrugged, the storm coming to the calm much less melodramatically than I anticipated.

I leaned against the counter, arms folded. "That's it?" Though I tried not to sound disappointed.

"That's all. Good night." She took the last sip, tossing it into the sink where it clanked along with the other dishes.

I was left standing in there. That feeling of rejection tumbling over me in a wind-like way. Similar to how it felt Gideon kissed me, and I did kiss back. That same pushing force, not a cold gush, or even something warm. It was just pure pressure, causing my body to feel limp and unable.

With this new ache on my mind I undressed slowly. Holding onto the wall or doing everything I could to keep myself standing.

I knew this wasn't over. Jane was too stubborn to let something like this go—I would push until I got the reaction I wanted. We would play until then.

But for now, Jane was in a sour mood and would stay at a further distance than I intended her to.

Not necessarily a good thing, and who was to say it were bad? I had no obligation to her, nor she to I. If that weren't made clear before, it was tonight.

I peeled back the covers. Mushing myself between the smooth Egyptian cotton and duvet until I felt that dip in the springs. I moved around to get comfortable, struggling until I ended on my back with the blankets somewhere near the floor.

___

"You're still up." The little light above the stove flicked on. The room lit up to glow a subtle yellow.

"I've been a little...restless, recently." She trotted towards the kitchen. Her long legs, sticking out from the lavender chemise she wore. It sunk over her body, barely covering the marks around her upper thighs. "You're up, too." She noticed.