In Love and Diplomacy

Chapter Seventeen: When the Pieces Fit

"I didn't have it in myself to go with grace,
And you're the hero flying around, saving face
And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake?
Cursing my name, wishing I stayed
Look at how my tears ricochet"

- Taylor Swift, "my tears ricochet"

Chapter Seventeen

We avoided each other for the rest of the afternoon. When Sterling made dinner, we ate in silence, only the clanking of dishes to fill the indignant quiet. After dinner, I sat outside with Rolo, peacefully watching the fireflies from the porch swing.

When the evening teetered to night, I retreated to my room without a word.

I don't need him. I've never needed anybody but my dog, and nothing about that's changed.

In my silence, I found myself overthinking until I felt nothing but anxious. In my empty time, I found myself restless and uneasy. In my anger, I found flaws within myself to pick until they ached. In my fear, I found only scraps of self-worth.

And the next morning, I found more dark circles under my eyes.

When I finally gave up trying to rest and stumbled down the stairs, I was greeted by Sterling in the kitchen. He watched me from the coffee pot as I swung open the back door to let Rolo out; when I turned, his hand was already extended with a fresh cup of coffee. His eyes took me in. I knew I looked pale and ghastly as I accepted the cup, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I felt dead in the mornings. The feeling was only exacerbated by a lack of sleep.

"Thank you," I mumbled. I headed to the living room to get away from his prying eyes, but Sterling followed behind.

"Do you want any breakfast?"

One day he tells me I'm just a job, and the next day he's offering to make me breakfast. I've never met someone so unable to make up their mind before. He's as fickle as a freckle, appearing with the sun then fading.

I settled on the couch before responding, staring out the front windows where Rolo pranced in the yard. "It's not your job to feed me."

"It's my job to ensure your wellbeing."

"Well, go ensure it somewhere else."

Sterling sat down in the armchair and stiffly leaned forward. I wondered if he'd been dropped off at the Pentagon as a baby or something; even sitting down, he looked ready for battle. "Do you need anything from the store?"

"Why, are you hoping to get my credit card? The paycheck from keeping me alive not lucrative enough for you?"

"You're being childish," Sterling said. "Can we act like adults, please?"

At that, I turned to look at him. His jaw was tight, muscles taut, and his eyes were blazing. The deep forest green I'd started to like looking at was being swallowed in flames. I didn't care. I was already bathed in my own ashes, what did it matter if he burned, too?

"No, please, keep insulting me," I sneered. "There could still be some self-worth left for you to destroy."

A smile as sharp as my anxious edges plastered itself on my face, squeezing my jaw in its iron grip. He fidgeted.

Jackass: 0. Royal brat: 1.

"Are we going to be able to get past this?"

"I'll overthink on it and get back to you."

"You're infuriating."

"I'll add it to my resume." I took a long sip of coffee as Sterling's shoulders tensed. His attractive, rude shoulders.