The Hurt Game

❧ fourteen

I was lying on my belly on my bed. A book was placed in front of me and one of my hands was flipping the pages. A notebook lay above my book. A pencil was tucked behind my ear and tangled in my hair. Book tabs lay next to me as well, in case I had wanted to mark and remember a scene.

The sun was gone, far below the horizon. The streetlights shone in my room and the little lights, which gave me the impression of stars, were on, lighting up my whole room in a cosy and gentle manner.

I put my head on my book. A smile was plastered on my lips and a little squeal fell from my mouth. My belly was littered with butterflies fluttering around. I grabbed the pink, which stood for any kind of romantic scenes, and placed it in my book.

Little ticks pattered against my window. I looked up and saw another ray of little rocks hit the glass. A frown tugged down my eyebrows and I stood up from the bed. I walked towards the window as another, a little bigger, rock hit the glass. It made an awful sound and I was relieved to know it hadn't broken the glass. I would have never been able to explain that to my father.

When I appeared at the window, peered down, my eyes fell upon a black motorcycle. My brows knitted into a deeper frown. No one I knew owned a motorcycle.

My eyes found the man's figure standing. He was lit by the lanterns and I recognized the dark mob of hair and the tall, intimidating frame that could only belong to Royden.

A smile appeared at the corners of my lips as I opened my window. The breeze sent chills down my spine and rose goosebumps across my arm. I leaned out of the window a bit, looking down at Royden.

"What are you doing here?" I questioned him.

He shrugged his shoulder. "Was driving around and happened to stop by," he answered.

I rolled my eyes at his answer. Sure, he could have been driving around, but his apartment was at the other side of the city. He must have known he had been heading my way.

"One moment," I called down at him. I leaned back, closed the window again and I exited the room. My footsteps were quiet on the stairs. Even though my father was in his office, which was at the other end of the house, I didn't want to risk him hearing me and finding out I was still talking to Royden.

After waiting for a moment at the front door, trying to detect any sound that could possibly belong to my father and hearing nothing, I opened the front door. Royden was leaning against his motorbike casually as if he had been expecting me to come down. He looked good.

"What do I have the pleasure of you appearing on my doorstep?" I softly laughed. My body leaned against the doorframe. The door wasn't completely open. I couldn't risk it.

He raised his eyes to me and shrugged his shoulders. He looked casual, relaxed. "I told you. I was having a ride."

He pushed himself off the bike and I let my eyes wander around the vehicle. It was completely black, or it was at least a dark colour. I couldn't tell in the twilight and lantern lit streets. It looked cool and the knowledge Royden drove one made my heart race.

I had always wanted to drive a motorcycle. I had always been afraid too, though.

My eyes met Royden's when he stopped in front of me. He shoved his hands in his pockets. A neutral, almost relaxed expression was plastered on his face and with a startling yet happy thought I realized this was the first time I had seen him so calm and laidback.

"Since when do you own a motorcycle?" I asked.

He glanced over his shoulder before looking back at me. His eyes reflected the light of the lamp hung next to the door. "A couple of years. It is a nice ride. Wanna drive?"