Along came Avery

1 3 . b e l t a n d t h o n g s

A tear of frustration rolls down the side of my face as I stare at the ceiling. I'm angry with myself but I'm especially angry at him. To think yesterday he was all moody and angry at me, and now suddenly he desires to see me.

My wrists are pressed together as if glued, and above my head, held by my gown's belt made of excellently soft fabric. No amount of tug and twists will get that knot to loosen, but rather tightens around my wrist at every attempt. My shoulders have long started hurting in this position, and my legs are pressed and stretched towards the end of my bed.

He's holding me hostage, in my own room. Amber isn't even here; she has a date with Qailah, perhaps to gossip.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. I would have came earlier but plans change, you know? I did notice though, you're awfully dressed quite lovely, Bubbles." I hear him shuffle around my room as he makes that comment. "I wonder what the occasion is."

I won't talk to him. I won't engage in conversation with him. The sooner he gets bored of me now, the sooner he'll let go of me and leave. Why would he come bother me, today of all days? He had me just yesterday hanging over a building.

More especially, his timing is so bad.

"You're avoiding me now?"

Just yesterday you wanted me dead.

I blink my eyes to hold back any more forward tears yearning to escape where it's produced. My eyes shift up to my wrist, in doing so I have to arch my back a bit since the top of my head is at the bottom of my pillow and my hands are on the other side above the pillow.

"Zeze. Seriously?"

More movement is heard. I wonder what he's doing. Is he snooping through my things? He better not be looking at my underwear collection. My journal? He's not flipping through those pages, is he?

I lower my back flat on my bed and lift my head to try look at him. He's standing by my study table, leaning on it and has his phone in his hand. I don't know what he's doing, but the look of discontent on his face means he's looking at something that bothers him. Most of his front hair is hanging over his forehead since his head is leaning forward, and the one hand is in a sense holding him up as it's on the edge of the table besides his hip.

He looks really nice in that black short sleeve shirt, and it fits him a little too good for my liking — not that I should be liking to begin with. He's holding me hostage after all. I can see the eagle tattoo just under the fold of the inside of his elbow, of which is the first tattoo I now know he has. I can see veins from the back of his hands stretch up past his wrist and disappears as if reaching his elbow. I wish I had a sharp paper edge to— don't think of murder, it would look back if I killed them both. His washed out blue slim fit jeans might be tight on him, not to be mistaken for skinny jeans, but they are tight at the right places. I can't see his shoes. I'd have to break my already aching neck to see them.

When enough silence between us has passed by and I happen to still be looking at him with a lifted head, Avery lifts his head up at me. We make a brief — longer than brief, but I won't accept it — eye contact before he raises his eyebrow and the corner of his heaven forbidden beautiful lips raise.

I drop my head back on my bed right after seeing him shift off my table and head towards me. My eyes move back to the ceiling above me and I press my lips together.

"Bubbles." The footsteps, if they could, sound louder as he approaches my trapped form. "Why are you avoiding me?" His head comes to view sideways and that smile he has is now a grin. "You're ignoring me but you don't fail to steal advances to me? You liked what you saw?"