Heliophilia
(n.) desire to stay in the sun; love of sunlight
To be loved is to be changed.
Arabella Dawson
Has never had anybody constant in her life. From parents always being away at work to one shitty friend, she doesn't know how to exist when...
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Odaxelagnia (n.) sexual arousal from biting or being bitten
Thirty-one ♡︎♡︎♡︎ Arabella
"Flint?"
He hums, doesn't look at up from his bowl of food in front of him.
"Does your dad not worry about you?" I ask, a little scared that I shouldn't.
I keep my head tilted down at the table, meeting his eyes through my lashes when he snaps his face up to meet mine. His features hard, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched impossibly tight.
And I wish to force the words back down my tightening throat. I wish I hadn't said anything to be begin with. But I have. And the words are out there, spoken in the open, and now more than anything I wish for him to answer.
"What?" Flint questions, pushing his half eaten bowl away from him as he leans back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest.
Muscles flexing and my train of thought is suddenly derailed. Only momentarily.
I shrug a shoulder, push my food around with my fork, avoid his darkening stare. "It's just you're like always here. And there's nothing wrong with that, don't get me wrong. I like having you here, really." I place my fork into my bowl, lift my head to face him, try to offer a small smile. "I just... does your dad not ask where you are? Or like worry that you're out so much?"
Flint stares at me, and for a moment his body is so rigid I'd think him to be set in stone, then he's relaxing, slumping over the table as he focuses his attention back onto his food, face passive.
He shrugs a shoulder, appears totally calm in his demeanour, like he wasn't so entirely offset a few moments ago. "Drop it ."
"But I just-"
"Leave it alone Arabella." Flint snaps, pushing away from the table and moving to lock himself in the bathroom.
I watch him walk away. Completely sure I've fucked everything up by pushing too hard. I didn't mean to be invasive, I was just curious. I didn't mean to pry, I care that's all.
Frowning, I bite down on my bottom lip, knock on the door to the bathroom once's he's had a few minutes alone. "Flint? Fine or not fine?"
He doesn't answer and I shuffle on my feet, trying to think of some way to travel back through time and not say anything at all.
But as much as I wish for a way, time travel is impossible and I'm left standing on one side of the door, Flint on the other. So close but miles apart.
