A/N: Happy Friday, everyone! Hope you enjoy the chapter <3
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You're watching Jake so grimly that he almost wants to give you a hug. But, the next moment, you let out a heated sigh and shake your head irritably. "God, Jake, nothing happened," you say, as if he's the one who's shown up at your doorstep unannounced in the dead of night.
He gives you a stony look that, unfortunately, you don't see because you're no longer watching him, so his efforts go completely unnoticed. "If nothing happened, then why are you here? Past midnight. Crying." To his chagrin, the tone of his voice is far too vexed to emulate the indifferent attitude he means to preserve.
You lick your lips and sniffle. "We had a fight," you say.
Jake stares at you impatiently, waiting for you to look back up. When you don't, he says, "You fight with everybody."
This makes you look. He's dreadfully satisfied with peeving you – the only satisfaction you'll likely ever give him. "It was a big one, obviously."
Jake studies the expression on your face, trying to gauge whether or not you're hiding something. "Where is he?" he asks, feeling like he needs to punch something. And soon.
You take a long time to respond – so long that Jake almost poses the question for a second time. "I don't know," you finally say.
"What do you mean you 'don't know'?"
You shrug, your lips beginning to tremble anew. "He just left."
What Jake experiences at the sight of the fresh tears filling your eyes is abhorrent. The simultaneous desire to alleviate your pain and beat the living shit out of Mustang offsets his entire world in a way that puts your well-being at the top of his priority list. Hell, he doesn't even have a priority list. You are it. And with this absurd notion weighing on the ever-growing vortex of his newly discovered emotions, he resolves to tell you just what he thinks of your idiotic boyfriend. "Well, he's obviously a moron," he says curtly.
You glance up at him again, less angry than before. "He's a lot like you in that respect," you say with a hint of a smile.
Jake scoffs and, before he can stop himself, says, "I would never walk out on you."
You stare at him for a moment before lowering your gaze awkwardly.
Jake cringes, realizing that he could have said just about anything else and it would have been better. Moreover, in his attempt to rectify the situation, he blurts out this obnoxious tidbit: "You'd never let me hear the end of it."
You roll your eyes but then you bite into your bottom lip and your eyebrows lift inward. You glance up at him woefully and say, "I'm not that bad, am I?"
Jake watches you carefully, wondering why you'd care what he might have to say on the matter. He tries to determine what his response might be before deciding if he's going to be honest. On the one hand, you are that bad. On the other, when it comes to you, bad takes on an entirely different connotation. "You could be worse," he responds vaguely.
You stare at him miserably. "You can't stand me," you remind him.
Jake nearly laughs; that's how absurd he finds your statement. "Well, that's more or less mutual, is it not?"
You nod slowly.
"In any case, it's hardly relevant since I'm not your boyfriend."
"But what does that say about me?" you ask. "I piss off everyone around me. You said it yourself, I just can't shut up."
YOU ARE READING
Less Talk - A Hangman Story
عاطفية"I heard that," he says dangerously, inclining into the table. "Good," you respond, leaning forward so that your noses are nearly touching. "You were meant to." "You are so fucking annoying," he whispers, his eyes slipping momentarily to your mouth...