The Definition of Me

Chapter 14: Pinkie Swear & Promise Me

Liam leaned on the wall and put his hands in his pockets, shrugging his shoulders a bit to adjust his jacket and asked a repeating question all at once. It was his limit of multitasking. 

"You sure you don't want to stay at mine tonight?"

"A hundred percent positive," I concluded, patiently waiting for the conversation to end. It was the "are you sure you are going to be okay?" inclining that he was hinting, which made me roll my eyes at him ten seconds later upon hearing the phrase "are you sure?" come out of his mouth yet again.

"Look, I am okay." I placed both of my arms on his shoulders to calm him down. Slowly scanning down from his chin upwards, I saw pity in his eyes and his warm hand cupped my freckled cheek.

"I am sorry about what you saw." His other hand reached for my arched back and he pressed me tighter onto his chest. My arms slowly traveled from his shoulders now onto his neck, and I crossed them together.

"It's not like I have never seen that before, Liam. It just all stayed the same." 

I disliked the state I felt myself drowning in. As if my intrusive thoughts, my anxiety, and my emotionality all created what I avoided myself to fall into - depression.
But perhaps it was just for the night, perhaps I should drink not three but ten cups of Lemon Sencha tea in order to calm down. And nothing screamed more inside me than the desire to cry. Cry like a five-year-old baby that is scared of monsters under her bed. Mine happened to be my own father.
I pictured myself putting my messy thoughts in order as if trying to figure out what was hurting me the most, and then convinced myself that I was okay. And that tomorrow after I would be done with my shift at the coffeehouse, all I would remember was how great of a birthday I have had both with my family and my boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend. That word messed it all up again. Was I just being on cloud nine thinking that it was something serious? But I blamed the part of me that wished it would escalate to that. 

With Liam's next out breath came awkward silence. And that silence said a lot to me.

"You still don't believe I am alright, do you?" My facial expression showed hints of doubt.

"I am worried about you." He bluntly explained.

"You sound like my mother." I backed away a little bit after watching him grin at my comment and reached for the keys to the apartment in my jean pocket.

"...but you shouldn't be worried," I added, glancing at him for a second before taking out the seemingly heavy key chain; it had the keys to Gemma's apartment, the inside parking garage for Gemma's car, the keys to Eva's house and it still preserved the infamous keys to the penthouse. It made me feel the urge to throw those ones away. "I will come home, wash my face and fall asleep with 'Lie to Me' playing in the background on Netflix. I'll be okay." My list of actions that I was planning to do didn't put him at rest either, but I was too tired and too full after our sugar feast to continue discussing the topic.
Liam put one of his hands on my shoulder and gently pressured me to turn around and look at him once more. He raised his pinkie, and mouthed quietly "Promise?".

"Promise," I repeated and pinkie swore before carefully twisting the hand to open the front door. By that point, the silence could no longer be broken unless we both  wanted me to get busted. 

"I'll see you tomorrow." I stretched the corners of my mouth into an exhausted smile, giving him a weak wave before slowly closing the door as he waved back at me. His flickering hazel eyes didn't break contact with mine until I shut the door completely.

As if timed perfectly, the light in the corridor lit up and blinded me.

I have been caught. 

"Rosemary." My mother's voice had a very sharp tone, making a perfect copy of that of Mrs. Brukes'.