Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Three boxes of tea sat in Damon's room. Unopened and taunting him. The stupid tea only served as a reminder that he was being ignored with no idea why. He didn't drink any of it because it would be pleasurable. It wasn't his goal, it was just a method for forced communication.
Two weeks of stealing just for her to replace them again had passed. They weren't easy to take either, after taking the first box Francesca started to hide them in different places. He would always spend an hour looking for the tea. Then, once it had been located, which took him fucking forever, he would wait for her to shout at him. She didn't, so he assumed she had just bought another box and his scavenger hunt would begin - the cycle continuing.
He thought that it would be an ensured way to get her to talk to him . . . it wasn't. She would shout at him all of the time - except when he wanted her to, typical. He didn't think anyone dreamed of seeing stormy eyes and cold frowns but he did. He just wanted her to look at him, even if it was with rage.
The last time that he had stolen her tea (that time only being a couple of tea bags, not the whole box like he was doing now) she got angry and scolded him. Now, nothing. Arguably a much worse crime and she didn't even bother to leave him a harshly worded note. Once he left an empty orange juice box in the fridge and he received a long, double-sided and everything, written essay about how annoying he was.
He kept it, folded in his bedside drawer. He thought it was funny, using phrases like 'uncivilised, careless mongrel' and 'irritating, indolent pest'. Over orange juice. At the time he thought she was being ridiculous, rolling his eyes at her complaints (since they were still feuding). He kept it to remind himself how annoying she was and as evidence to show other people that she was just as bad as he claimed - though, he never did.
He forgot he had it until he was trying to find a place to hide the stolen boxes of tea - eventually, giving up and just leaving them on top of his dresser. He wanted her to know he had taken them, there was no point in hiding them.
Noticing the folded note he opened it and laughed to himself. It was still funny. He found it more endearing now, though, he also found it frustrating (just for different reasons). That she could put so much effort into complaining about a simple action caused by his laziness but ignore him for two weeks when he was purposefully trying to annoy her.
It wasn't the only tactic he had tried to get her attention either. He had bought more of the cheesecakes, leaving one in the fridge for her. As an apology (for what, he didn't know) - the mystery was frustrating him. She didn't touch it. It was still sitting there.
