When the Game Changed (Ryan Haywood x OC) (Fake AH Crew)

Chapter 12

A/N: Hey guys! This chapter might be shorter since I had an extremely long chapter for chapter 11, but trust me, the romance will begin to build up here (;

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Dakota waited impatiently on the elevator ride, her eyes straight forward, her mouth made into a tight line, the rest of her face just about as cold as ice. Her body felt tight and the way that she tensed herself while reliving the past few moments over and over in her head made it even worse.

She couldn't get the fucking scenario out of her brain.

No matter how hard the Dayley woman tried, she just relived constantly the words that Geoff threw at her, the way he treated her like she was nothing but dust sifting through the wind. All she could see was his face, his moustache face that sat so sternly while glowering at her, spewing his venom and poisoning her with ever little syllable that drew off of his tongue.

It was like a vivid moment in a movie, going over and over and over again until the loop seemed endless and she felt locked in some kind of time hole that just didn't want to take its claws out of her. Or maybe she couldn't take her claws out of it. But either way, she was trapped in her own mind, and she wasn't going anywhere soon.

Dak didn't even remember getting into the elevator a few seconds in to the ride. It wasn't until she heard the ding of the bell that alerted that she arrived at her destination that she remembered where she was, and when Ryan stepped out in front of her to take the lead, she realized that he was the one who had pulled her out of there and it all came rushing back to her.

She stayed glued to the floor of the elevator, not sure whether to get out or not and go back up to whoop Geoff's ass, but when she looked at Ryan, his body swaying the way that it did when he walked, something pulled her in and forced her feet to move before the door closed in her face. She followed her counterpart to his door, instead of weirdly walking to her own where she could have the temper tantrum that she wanted to throw, and when he opened the door, she fell in after him.

Ryan didn't know why she came into his apartment. He wasn't expecting it, but he didn't exactly tell her that she couldn't join him. Maybe his subconscious wanted him to let her in, or maybe it was just some weird happening and he was overthinking it, but he let her in, shutting the door as soon as she stormed over to his kitchen.

He watched her as she approached the cabinet closest to the entrance of the kitchen that sat above the sink and granite top, and as her hands yanked open the door, taking out a barely drank bottle of whiskey that he didn't ever touch because when he was alone, if he drank, he drank light.

Dakota avoided his light blue eyes that she could feel observing her every move, probably waiting for her to break something, and she took the bottle over to the stairs, setting it onto the fourth set as she sat on the step below it. The woman moved to open the bottle, and as soon as the top was off and across the room, she raised it to her lips and took a long, never ending chug that Ryan thought lasted for forever.

He didn't know what to do, what to say, if he should say or do anything at all, but when the bottle was finally resting next to her and her hand was gripped around its neck, he decided to join her.

Ryan sat on the other side of her, away from the bottle in case she started swinging- although he knew that was being a bit dramatic and she wouldn't do that- and the two sat in silence for a minute, not knowing how to start a conversation.

Both of them wanted to talk, to see what was on the other person's mind and to let out thoughts of their own that they felt their counterpart should hear, but it was like sitting there with each other was strangely all that they needed to fill a void that had been created a few floors above them. For some odd reason, the presence that resided when they were in a room alone was all it took to make them feel... calm? Necessary? Needed?