Her Street Fighter

16.

Chapter Sixteen
Nathaniel

She brought light into every room she walked in.

I brought darkness.

We had nothing in common but that was what drawn me to her. As gross as it sounded I wanted to get to know her.

I never wanted to get to know anyone. I could care less of what other people do or say, but with Marebela I wanted to know every detail about her. Her fears, weaknesses and not because I wanted to use them against her like I would do anyone else, but because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.

Never mind. I removed those thoughts from my head because no way would she fall for someone like me. I wouldn't let her.

Living with her was becoming a nightmare. I get my nails painted. I get choked by the smell of flower perfume. I find art supplies all over the floor. She was messy.

I picked up a paintbrush from the floor and walked over to the desk she was working on.

I could see a little bit of the paper before she covered it with her hands. Her cheeks stained pink and she hastily grabbed a notebook to cover the paper.

"Oh! Hi!" she greeted happily. She still avoided eye contact. What was her issue with eye contact?

I ignored her. I was still angry with her when she painted my nails. I placed the paintbrush roughly on the counter.

"I was just drawing nothing serious." She seemed nervous and before I got the chance to be aware of my actions. I swiftly grab the paper from under the notebook.

Her eyes alerted and she jumped up to get the paper from my hand. I held it higher.

"No!" she exclaimed. "Don't look at it!"

I smirked as I watched her failed attempts at trying to get the paper out of my hand.

"Gunn! Give it back, I'm serious," she cried. She grabbed onto my shoulder trying to get me to lower my arm but I was stronger than her. When she realized it was useless, she begged. "Please!"

I brought the paper lower so it was in my vision and began to examine it. She eventually stopped trying to get the paper.

I saw her head lower in embarrassment and she cringed, waiting for me to see what she drew.

It was a sketch of my face. Her lines were shaky but they outlined the shape of my face and my hair. It was far from finished but even with the little detail it was good.

I paused. Then I looked back at her. She was still looking at the ground. I could notice her eyes water a little but before I could say anything, she ran off.

She went into my room and slammed the door.

Alright, maybe I went too far. She obviously didn't want me to see her drawing of me.

I wondered why she would take the time to draw me in the first place.

God, she was so embarrassed. Her wobbly lips when she saw me investigate every curve of her sketch.

She was traumatized.

That was what she got for painting my nails.

I chuckled deeply to myself as I held her drawing in my hand. I was going to keep this.

I didn't care if she wasn't finished. It was mine.

Now, I had to fix the mess I made.

I waited a bit before I knocked on the door. She was still in my room. I didn't know it would affect her this bad.

I should've known that she would get embarrassed over things like this.

She didn't say anything and I debated on opening the door. I slowly turned the knob to see her sitting on the bed.

She was turned away from me.

"Marebela?"

"Leave me alone," she mumbled. She was still embarrassed.

"It was a good drawing," I complimented. Compliments were foreign on my tongue but I did it anyway.

I couldn't control myself around her. My emotions were free not controlled like they have been my whole life.

That was something she didn't want to hear because she turned away from me more.

I sighed. "I know I shouldn't have taken it from you like that."

She hasn't said anything else. It was weird not hearing her talk every second. I knew I fucked up.

How do I fix it?

I was about to say something. She blurted out. "I'm sorry." I was confused. What did she have to be sorry about? I was the one who took her drawing. "I shouldn't have drawn you without your permission."

"I'm not mad," I told her.

She still refused to look in my eyes.

"I'm so embarrassed," she admitted. She covered her face with the palm of her hands, wishing she would be swallowed up by the floor.

I found my lips twitch up into a small smile. Thank God, she couldn't see me.

"Don't be embarrassed, little dove. If I knew you were obsessed with me I would've posed for you while you drew me," I taunted.

Her cheeks flamed a brighter shade of red. I felt triumphant.

She grabbed the pillow and threw it at me. "Get out!" she laughed.

"Out of my own room? I don't think so," I said.

She finally looked at me. "It's my room now."

"No, it'll always be mine," I told her. I wasn't sure what I was talking about. The room? Of course I was only talking about the room. What else would be mine?

"Can I have it back?" she asked with what last of her dignity she had left. Fuck no, she couldn't.

"No," I swiftly said.

"What? But it's not finished," she explained.

I shrugged my shoulders, signalling I didn't care. "It's mine now, I don't give away what's mine."

"You gave away your room to me though and that was yours," she mentioned.

"You're the only exception," I replied.

I left the room, leaving her blushing and smiling.

I shook off this horrible feeling in my chest.

I didn't feel anything for her.

I didn't feel.