𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 | f. w

xi. a little tension

chapter eleven
A LITTLE TENSION

🥀

Edith's pov

» » IT WAS RAINING. The first thing I noticed as I woke up in chills from head to toe, was the rain beating hard against the window pane. It didn't faze me much, I quite liked the sound of i, it made me calm. However, it didn't take away from the fact that my head was killing me.

It felt like I had been run over with a truck and I could hear my own pulse loud and clear, beating like a drum against the side of my skull.

Standing up beside the makeshift bed seemed hard enough, so when I started walking towards the kitchen, it was no surprise that my legs couldn't carry me as easily as I would've liked.

Grabbing myself a glass of water and shugging it down within seconds, I thought back to the night before. The memories were somewhat hazy, but there was one thing I remembered clear as day, something I couldn't seem to forget no matter how hard I tried.

Holy fuck.

Edith, tell me you didn't.

I kissed him. I actually kissed him.

Perhaps it was the copious amount of Fire Whisky we both drank, making me braver than I would ever think to be sober. Maybe it was the twinkling lights or the fact that he looked so fucking handsome, with his ring coated hand in his hair, his veiny arms flexing as he moved about the room, and his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed the last sips of his drink.

I don't know why I did it, perhaps it was stupid.

No, scratch that.

I knew why I did it, and I knew it was stupid.

I just didn't care. In that very moment, watching him from under my eyelashes, looking into his deep brown eyes, I couldn't help myself. There was nothing holding me back, and when he kissed me back with so much passion that it took my breath away, I had my answer.

I just wished, he too, would remember what happened.

So there I was, standing hungover in the kitchen, holding my breath as if my life depended on it. It sort of felt like it did.

The silence kind of threw me off, but it was the sound of someone tiptoeing into the kitchen that truly startled me.

At first, I thought I must've made it up, that my mind was  playing tricks on me, taking advantage of my sleepy state, but when he appeared in the refrigerator light, I realised he was no ghost.

He didn't stop to say anything, or even look up to meet my eyes, instead, he grabbed whatever it was he was looking for in the kitchen, before walking back to his room, leaving me utterly stunned. 

Was that it?

Were we not going to talk about what happened last night?

✦✧✦

In the days that followed, Fred refused to look me in the eyes, ignoring me whenever he got the chance, and deliberately trying to keep from having to be alone and in the same room as me. Which — for obvious reasons — seemed rather difficult.

I was still living in the flat with him, but because of his desperate attempts at distancing himself from me, it felt like I was all alone. Once again.

After about a week or so of having to go through the absolute torture of him pretending as if I didn't exist, I decided I'd had enough.