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chapter six
memories
☆
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"STEVE I SWEAR to God." Alexandra all but groaned as she listened to the Harrington drum his fingers against the wooden table in his dining room. "Carry on and I'll cut them."
"You know, you're a little psychotic, Alex, anyone ever tell you that?" Steve mumbled over to her, attitude laced his tone as he pouted like a child, dropping his palms flat against the mahogany table.
"And you're irritating as fuck, anyone ever tell you that?" She shot back, attitude dripping from her own tongue like honey as she placed her pen down beside one of the many textbooks on the table.
"Yeah, you," Steve retorted. "About fifty times a day."
"Just makin' sure you know," she shrugged harmlessly, glancing over at him.
Alexandra and Steve were working on their project yet again. It was late at night, the moon's reflection bled from the autumn night sky and into the dining room through the large windows, illuminating across his and her face.
Of course, yet again, his parents were out, a business meal that Mr. Harrington insisted he brought his wife to — leaving Steve and Alexandra all alone again. She didn't mind it though, the quiet house. The quieter it was the more she could concentrate, meaning the project would be done quicker and she could go back to pretending as though Steve Harrington didn't exist.
A little harsh, sure, but she preferred it that way.
Steve let out a huff and drummed his fingers against the table once again, Alexandra looked up and exhaled deeply in annoyance before she turned her gaze to the boy beside her, she shot him an annoyed stare.
"Seriously?"
Steve paused, a sheepish expression coating his face as he rose his hands in false surrender, "Look, I'm bored. I can't concentrate if I'm bored . . . and hungry. I'm hungry. You hungry?" Steve suddenly shot out of his seat, chair reeling back as he did so. "I'm gonna make somethin' to eat, you want anything?"
