"Fox, this sticker has a shield. Here."
"For my collection?"
"For protection from the dragon."
"You... How do you know about my dragon?
"I listen, Fox. I'm sorry."
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
F O X
She's avoiding me. Has been for five days now.
And it's fucking adorable.
It's like I'm living with a doe that tiptoes around the apartment, making herself invisible until the coast is clear. Sometimes I hear her soft voice, always a little frantic, mumbling into the phone late at night. A friend, maybe.
But hey, for all I know, she's got a boyfriend and she's just as rotten as the rest of them. Wouldn't be the first time.
On morning six, I brush past her on the way to the kitchen to see how fast she'll scramble away. She jumps like I've electrocuted her as I pretend to be engrossed in the fridge contents. Her scent—fresh like lavender or some other flower—lingers in the air. I smirk behind the lip of my waterbottle. "Morning, Chris."
She fumbles with her mug, the ceramic almost slipping from her fingers. My eyes slip to her lips. She's biting down hard on the bottom one, pink and plush, and I wonder what it'd be like to—
No. I don't have to wonder.
She stares at me, eyes twitching. Waiting for something. Almost angrily.
"Morning," she bites, and then she vanishes into the hall.
"What was that?" Noah mumbles, rubbing sleep from his eyes at the top of the spiral stairs.
I don't have an answer.
By day seven, every time I walk into a room, I expect to see her. And when she's not around, I feel... strange. It's starting to piss me off.
She eats the same thing every morning—Cheerios with bananas, sliced thick, not thin. How do I know? Because I keep catching her pouring the milk, humming under her breath.
She's got this habit of tugging on her earlobe when she's nervous. Found that out when she bumped into me by the bathroom door. I stood there, half-naked with a towel around my waist, watching. She fled before I could say her name.
I'm boiling in this tension, and I can't tell if it's all in my head or if she feels it too.
Maybe I'm delusional. Wouldn't be the first time.
When the eighth day rolls around, the lot of us are acclimated.
On my way back from a run with Cam, I feign ignorance. "How are things with New Roommate?"
Cam uses a hand to block the sun, curls plastered against her forehead. "Good, I guess."
"Why's she always hiding? It's like we've got a shadow."
Cam laughs, adjusting her knot of hair as we make our way through the lobby. "You sound obsessed."
"Not obsessed. Just curious."
"Curiosity killed the cat."
"Good thing I'm a dog, right?" I say dryly.
She rolls her eyes. "She's just shy."
YOU ARE READING
Beside
Romance''Tell me how it feels,'' he whispers. "Good," I gasp, my entire body trembling. Deeper. Harder. Perfect. Like we've been doing this for years. His hand finds my jaw, fingers firm as he tilts my head up, making me look at him. And that's it. Waves...
