King and Queen

King

She's so small and vulnerable, yet at the same time she can rip you apart with her words alone. Seeing her like this immediately makes me think of that night.

"What do you mean no one ever stopped you from leaving?" I ask over the music.

I look down at her face and see that one tear managed to escape and run down her cheek.

I reached out and caressed her face, using my thumb to wipe away the tear.

I brought her close to my chest and prayed that she would mistake my quickened heartbeat for the music that was playing.

"Do you want to go upstairs so we can talk?" I whispered in her ear.

I felt her tense immediately and she started pulling away from me.

I lightly grabbed her wrist again. "Please...stay."

I looked down at her and say, "Do you want to go upstairs and talk or something?"

She gives me a small smile and nods her head almost as if she was grateful that I broke the short silence.

Why is she even here?

Isn't she supposed to hate me?

Maybe LYLA just wants to get me to change my mind about the party. If that's the case, she can kiss those dreams goodbye. I don't care how many tears she can fake cry.

But something in the back of my mind keeps telling me that something is really wrong with her.

I led her up to my room and I sat on the small couch against the wall, while she stood there awkwardly.

"You can sit down, you know?" I said.

"I know." she said with a shrug.

"Then why don't you sit somewhere?" I said growing annoyed with her careless attitude.

She took a seat across from me at my desk, turning so that she was facing me.

Why did she have the ability to piss me off so easily?

Maybe it's because we're so much alike...

I look over at her "Why are you here LYLA?"

She shrugs again and says, "I needed to get out of that house. Those girls are driving me insane."

"You do realize that you sometimes talk with a British accent, right?" I say completely ignoring her response.

Her eyes narrow slightly, "You do realize that I was living in London for 2 years surrounded by nothing but Brits. Of course I'm bound to have a slight accent."

That's better.

The only thing I hate worse than her attitude is when she's deadly quiet.

The only way to get her to break her silence was to piss her off.

God, she's so beautiful when she gets mad.

I always had a crush on her feisty side.

"Now," I started, "Tell me why you're really here."

Her eyes narrowed a little bit more before she spoke. "I told you already, whether or not your small, incompetent brain can process that information, is not my concern."

"Easy, queen. You are in my house, in my room, sitting at my desk. I think you should be a little bit nicer."

I was really enjoying this. Probably more than I should've been enjoying it. She's just so easy to piss off sometimes.

"Oh by the way," I start, "there's nothing small or incompetent about me."

I gave her a small wink after my statement.

That really made her mad.

She stomped over to where I was relaxing and she rose her hand as if she were going to slap me. I lightly grabbed her wrist and pulled her down to where she would be sitting on my lap.

She was breathing hard and glanced down at my lips while she softly bit her own lip.

Her nervous action made me smile slightly.

I lightly brushed her hair out of her face and I leaned in to kiss her.

Wait.

Why am I leaning in to kiss her?

What about MAYA?

What about LYLA hating me?

What am I doing?

She must've been thinking the same thing, because she pulled away at the same moment that I did.

Her face slightly flushed red and she tried to quickly compose herself as she stood up.

"I don't know what you're doing, but I'm going to leave before you start thinking that I want you to kiss me again."

I gave her a humorless laugh, "LYLA, anyone could see that you were dying for my lips to be on yours. Your face was turning red and everything. Just admit it darling, you want me."

This time she laughed, "The only way I would ever want you CALEB, is if I was drunk, brain dead, or if I was your pathetic girlfriend MAYA."

On that note, she stomped out of my room, slamming the door on her way out.

I sighed and ran my hand through my hair.

What is this girl doing to me?