Echoes of Us

2.

Ahvi's POV

In one swift breath, I could easily name an endless list of things I could care for.

A plant. Something low maintenance though... like a Succulent. Or even better, a cactus. It could serve as another purpose. A nicely blended-in weapon.

A cat. Hence, Purbelle. My little Russian Blue with eyes like emeralds, always somewhere nearby, purring softly, a comfort in the chaos. Just seeing her curled up in her favorite spot never failed to boost up my mood.

I could even go riskier.

I could say I cared about my very green friend, Mary Jane. Get inspired, get mellow. Maybe hit up Molly on a party night.

But one thing I couldn't care less for was what Leo Bishop had to say about me.

'I'm not doing this with you' had to be the craziest thing I had heard in the past 24 hours. Especially since he was the sole instigator of whatever 'this' was.

And I'm not just talking about the day before.

I finally start dishing him back his own piece of the pie and what? Now, he's the victim? Big womp.

The timer rings at the same time I hear the front door shut close, startling me and causing the eggs I was beating a moment earlier to tilt over. Thankfully, not completely.

My eyes dart over to the entry door and my startled demeanour switches to an annoyed one instantly. It was Leo.

Taking a second to look at the mess that was the kitchen... and maybe mostly me, I let out a sigh of relief when Leo decided to keep walking towards the stairway, and not towards the pantry for a quick snack.

Tidy break, I think as I drop the whisk into the egg bowl. I would rather call it that than admit I was woefully failing at this 'baking' thing.

"What are you doing?" The sound of Leo's voice alarmed me for the second time in mere seconds.

He had popped his head in from the hallway and I couldn't recall a time I had ever seen him look more disturbed.

How smug. He knew exactly what I was doing and he knew I was going to do just that. And if he couldn't guess that, I'm pretty sure he could see the dust of flour on my cheeks and most definitely my hair with each step he took towards me.

However, unlike yesterday, his eyes were glued to the counter, and not me. A bigger mess it was, I guess.

I huff and tuck my hair behind my ears, resuming my YouTube tutorial on 'how to bake a cake'. Tidy break commences once he's out of my sight.

"I know you're not baking for Keithan's party," he picks me phone up to confirm that was in fact the tutorial he was listening to.

"Wouldn't be the first time you were wrong," I snatch my phone back, a little too aggressively I would admit. I continued beating the eggs as I listened to the video.

I could feel his eyes on me, I was used to the feeling by now; the piercing sensation of his scrutiny, contemplating if whatever he was about to say next would be worth it.

Granted, it wouldn't even be worth a penny, but he still said it anyway. "I don't think I've ever met someone more difficult than you, Ahvi," he says slowly, making sure to spell out each word so calmly, it hits my ego.

He always knew how to rile me up. And I always knew that was what he wanted. So, most times, I am strong-willed enough to ignore his triggering comments.

But then, there were the other times.

"I guess that makes me the crown jewel of your challenges then, doesn't it?"

A smirk forms on his face. My remark had done the exact opposite of what I intended. "I'd say more like a pebble in my shoe—annoying, but easily shaken off."

The audacity of him.

The glares I was shooting at him, did not move him one bit. That coy smile remained plastered on his smug face.

"Well, Leo Bishop," I say as I walk around the counter over to him so I can look him in the eye – or attempt to by lifting my chin up to his height of a person – "I'd rather be a pebble than the regrettable mistake that keeps resurfacing in my memory."

That must sting. I thought, or at least hoped. Because then it would mean he gave a damn about me enough to care that I saw him and the moments we spent together as nothing but a regrettable mistake.

My eyes drifted to his jaw as he clenched, sending a feeling of satisfaction in my gut that it in fact did sting... and also, excitement down my spine.

I had to fight down the urge to run my fingers across his chiseled jawline. His face that I would always joke was carved by the gods themselves.

I swallowed hard and looked back up to his eyes. If he was hurt, he was not letting me in on it. Just a bland look, a clenched jaw. At least the smirk was gone. A win is a win.

"So, rent free?" he says.

"What?"

"I keep resurfacing in your memory," he shrugs, putting on a forced smile. I could tell it was forced. It didn't meet his eye. "Or maybe it's just the length of me you would beg to stuff your face with that keeps resurfacing."

That took me back a bit, in so many different ways. I couldn't hide the shock his statement had left. It was written all over my face; raised brows, mouth agape and all.

"Fuck you!" I scoff. "Fuck the length of you that's the length of my pinky toe." Unless, I had a long pinky toe that was as fat as that lie, that's all it was. A big fat lie.

We've had fights in the past, disagreements and intense exchanges of verbal abuse. But this was the first time we were bringing ourselves into it.

Us. The real reason behind the animosity. The topic we never discussed, because we had roommates that were always around and an agreement to seal that fate. No one could ever know.

But seeing as Nyssa was away for the week with family, and Keithan was still on his birthday trip for one more day, it was obvious feelings were heightened. We both had a lot we wanted to get off our chest but neither of us knew how.

"Beg to stuff my face with it," I mimicked him. "That, coming from the guy who said he loved me while hitting it, is crazy."

Boom. I struck a nerve. He was no longer just clenching his jaw. His eyes had gone dark, and he was almost scowling at me. "Count it as charity. To help with your troubling daddy issues."

The sound of my hand landing on his face must have echoed all over the neighborhood. It was less intentional, and more of an automated response. Deserved, nonetheless

How could he say that to me? How could he? Knowing what he knows... what I've let him.

We stood there for a moment. I couldn't tell what he was thinking and I don't think I cared. Like I have tried to stress, I could not care less.

I did not tell a lie. Letting him know me for even a brief moment. All of me, all the way through.

He was a regrettable mistake. He had been just that since the day he made the fault of whispering so softly in my ear how much he loved me, repeatedly. Making me want to believe that he did.

And with every kiss, the way he held me tightly and stared deep into my soul. With each stroke. It was almost impossible not to allow myself believe his absurd lies. And a fool I was the second I did.

I did not realize I was shaking until I heard myself speak. "Leave it to you not to know when you've taken it too far."

I wipe the tears off my wet cheeks and before he could say anymore, I storm off to my room, leaving the kitchen in all its glory for him.

What a mess.