Rough Drafts [bxb]

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Song - Omen - Sam Smith

There she stood in the clearing. Her bloody hair billowing across her face, green eyes focused; almost piercing as if there was something about me that she could remember. The thought actually ruffled me; it was the fucking 1800's and this girl still remembered. Two whole centuries away from when we first met and she still looked like her touch could set me on fire.
- Ulrich Feist, Shatter The Stars.

For a moment, it felt like my insides were being twisted around by a very large and vengeful instrument of pain.

That's how intense this guy's glare was.

Not that I blamed him for this deathly stare much - my entire mug of coffee had been emptied on his shirt and from the looks of it, wouldn't be coming out easily with any of the gallons of bleach I had in the laundry room. His sharp green eyes were in the process of dissecting the very core of my poor soul.

"I'm so sorry." I said.

He still stared.

"I can get the stain out." I offered again moving forward to get a wet cloth from the kitchen.

Still no answer.

There was never a moment in my life when I'd wished some Final Destination-esque moment would occur by killing me with the light bulb or something to end my shame as this one.

Doris grabbed the mug from my hand "Ulrich I am so sorry. It's just that Ridge is very clumsy and I'm sure he didn't mean to ruin your shirt."
He turned to her and spoke for the first time.

"It cost me $300."

Zen's eyes widened at that. So did mine. That was more than my minimum wage covered.

Ulrich turned to me again blankly after taking a minute to survey the extent of the damage caused by the coffee "But it doesn't matter I guess."

"Sorry." I squeaked again. Salvation at the moment could be a light bulb falling on my head and making me pass out or something; I really wasn't picky at all.

Doris gave me a look that said 'just forget it', "Why don't we go upstairs to your room so you can change your shirt? I'll sort the dirty one later. I think there's something in my mother's house that might get the stain off."

"Please." His voice was still as bland as ever as he followed Doris upstairs with his luggage effortlessly hauled by himself.

I waited until the both of them were out of sight until I slapped Zen on the arm "Ow! What was that for?"

"Sherlock is your dog." I said pointing angrily at the culprit who did nothing but sit and wag his tail adorably making it impossible for me to remain angry with each passing second. I was convinced that he was out to ruin my life but dammit criminals should not be this cute...

"Yeah but it's not my fault he's sensitive to strangers." Zen defended.

I sighed rubbing my fingers against my temple lobes. Doris had promised that this would be easy but so far I had managed to lose my coffee and anger the guy I was going to be staying with in one moment.

Inside I prayed that this would not foreshadow how the rest of the summer would go.

"Please tell me that I'm dreaming this whole situation right now." I moaned miserably. Then I might end up packing my bags and running back to New York.

"I could but you'd probably deck me." Zen commented making my clench my fists impulsively. Don't strangle him Ridge he's your best friend, don't strangle him Ridge he's your best friend.....