Sweetheart

31

A/N

I promise I'm not dead, I just have zero motivation to write because things are going downhill again 🤪

Lizzie
November 2020

Aaron is avoiding me again.

At least this time it's because he's embarrassed and not because he can't stand the sight of me. Or maybe it's both. Yeah, it's probably the latter.

As soon as he got back from school today — later than usual, since he's starting his three-day detention — he ran to his room and hasn't left it since. It's been almost four hours now.

I won't go check on him this time. He said we're done, so we're done. If he needs me he'll come around to the things I did and forgive me for them. That's what people do when they're in love, anyway, right?

I laugh to myself. Aaron isn't in love with me. Unless being in love means wanting to fuck someone all the time, in which case I could reply that I'm in love with him too. But this is not the case, is it?

Sighing, I get up from the couch I was on and walk upstairs. I'll admit it, for a moment there I debated knocking on his door, but I've got to be stronger than my urges.

I grab a backpack and put my purse in it. As I'm descending the stairs, Aaron's door opens. I turn to him with a blank face. "You're going out?" he asks with a grave voice.

"Yeah," I simply reply, shrugging one shoulder. His hair is a bit ruffled and his eyes slightly hooded, like he just woke up.

"Where are you going?"

"Why do you care?" Because you're in love with me? I'd love to say that, but I'm not that bitchy.

He leans against the doorframe and folds his arms. "It's eight p.m. And it's the middle of the week, so I'm assuming you're not going to a party. Especially since you're not dressed— or maybe I should say especially since you are dressed." Did he just call me a slut? "So, where are you going?"

I inhale sharply, annoyed by his comment. "Out."

"Are you going on a date?"

"Maybe I am."

"Are you?"

I shrug again and turn my back on him. I hear the stairs creak as he follows me. I roll my eyes and twist to look at him, finding him closer than expected. His scent confuses me for a moment, making me forget that I kind of hate him right now.

"Where are you going, Elizabeth?"

I scoff. "Seriously? Calling me with my full name again? Jesus," I mutter the last part, shaking my head. "I'm going shopping, okay?" I finally confess, tired of his constant curiosity. "I need to clear my head."

Aaron furrows his brows a little. "It's a bit late, isn't it? Aren't shops closed already?"

"It's never too late to go shopping. I know places."

He licks his lips, weighing my reply. Then, he says, "I'll come with you."

I blink a few times. "I— What? I'm sorry, I thought you hated me."

Aaron walks past me, grabbing the car keys. "Now, now, Elizabeth. I don't hate you. I just can't stand being around you."

I lift my brows. "Then why are you coming with me?"

"Because it's late and if you take the bus now I might as well start preparing your funeral. Come on," he answers, opening the front door.

"You're so weird Aaron, do you know that?" I tell him. "One second you tell me you wanna hurt me, and then you offer to come shopping with me."