Is It Love?

Chapter Thirty Six

Violets POV

One week later

I'm furious. With myself and her. I'm angry that I developed feelings like that. I'm angry I figured myself out just for her to turn me down. It's not fair, and I refuse to just let it go. It hurts, and I won't be the only one hurting in this situation.

That realization is how I got here. Sitting in my car, in front of her boyfriend's house. I look over his house, taking a breath and making sure I actually want to do so, quickly coming to the conclusion of, yes, I do.

Received from 'Aaron', 8:14 PM
Use the side door.

I open my car door, the sound of my shoes tapping the concrete. You might be wondering what I'm planning, and that is if you can't get her, get something from her boyfriend. I'm either leaving here with information or a reason for them to break up.

This might seem cold, but I can only shuffle my pain into this little container before it spills, and I happen to deal with the spillage with a nice cup of revenge.

I walk around the house, finding a nice setup around the side door. I knocked three times, tapping the front of my shoes on the floor. The door opens slowly, leaving Aaron with his arm leaning on the wall, behind it.

I breathe in, collecting myself. "Aaron," I acknowledge. He smirks.

"Violet."

He stares at me, for a second too long. "Well, are you going to let me in or not?"

He clicks his tongue, lifting himself off the wall and signaling me to enter. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he questions.

"Well, I favor a movie and have no one to watch it with. Is that okay?"

He blinks at me, nodding his head. I walked farther into the house, sort of inspecting it. It's nice, like really nice. But it doesn't really look like anyone lives in it. It's so clean.

"So is anyone else home?"

The silence made the question arrive. The only sounds throughout the house have been our own steps.

"Uh no, my parents are gone and my sister is in Seattle visiting her boyfriend."

I run my finger along the glass surface of the coffee table. "It must be lonely in this quiet house. It's too big for one person."

I watch as he lifts his hand to rub his neck, a flush of pink sprinkled on his face. "Well it is, I don't sit here alone very often."

"Tonight's a special occasion then?" I ask, lifting my brow. He blinked at me twice, "no uh— I just got home earlier than I usually would."

I hum, wiping my hands on my skirt. "Are we going to watch that movie?"

He almost jumps off the stool he has sat on. "Yeah! Yeah, we can skim through, give me your jacket. And uh sit on the couch I guess?"

I listen to what he says and observe how nervous he is. I assumed he would be quite cocky, but he looks like he's going to sweat from the mere presence of me.