D O O M
01:37 a.m.
17th December 2015
The boy stared at the girl's back. His eyes lingering on the denim jumpsuit hanging off her shoulders, and the way her hair had been braided into an intricate design. She looked ready to leave for a party at a moment's notice. She looked ready to run away.
A sharp pang of pain went through him, but he didn't care. He had yelled at her for her good. He wasn't ready to watch her disintegrate herself amidst the alcohol, nicotine and scars. He couldn't go through it again.
He cared too much to survive the agony again.
"Rory," he called out. He was seeing her for the first time since he had helped her scurry away into her box of secrets. Avoiding him and his calls, she had vanished till now, and he was ready to chain her to himself to stop her from doing it again. He was tired of hiding and fighting the truth when it was all so blaringly obvious.
He was exhausted of not being happy; exasperated from being scared. But most of all, he was tired of pretending he didn't like Rory Sandsburg, because he did. He very much did. He needed her with him, for she made him feel good - human.
He noticed the way her shoulders tightened at the sound of her voice before she geared herself up to face him and his unrelenting accusations.
"Sebastian." She greeted. Her face a perfect mask of indifference effectively hiding her emotions, a trait she had learnt from him while they had still been going out. Her arms folded on her chest, she carefully analyzed her next move, unwilling to let her walls down after their last encounter.
"Aren't you going to ask me why I called you?"
"I was hoping you would have spared me the trouble and tell me yourself" a smirk decorated his face cleverly concealing his anxiousness.
"You are never going to change, are you?"
"For you, perhaps," he winked at her flirtatiously.
Rory Sandsburg was bewildered by his behavior. He was not doing anything she had anticipated him to do. He was acting coy instead of angry, flirtatious instead of confused, and thereby leaving her puzzled. However, that didn't mean she wasn't going to play his game.
"Really?" she edged towards him, her voice breathy.
"Yes," he gulped.
"Then get the fuck out of my apartments by noon," she snapped back, a cocky smile decorating her visage as she noticed his expression of utter confusion before realization dawned on him. She was kicking him out of the flat, which meant he was going to be homeless.
"These aren't your apartments. Your dad's probably but not yours," he chuckled nervously. This wasn't how he planned everything would go.
"The apartments are called Aurora Apartments, and my name is Aurora Sandsburg, you tell me."
He cringed. This was becoming a mess. He wanted to apologize for that day, but things were falling apart and if he didn't pull his game together he would be hauling his ass back to his Father's place, proving him right as always.
He couldn't do that, so he did what he always did; he botched down whatever he had left.
"This is it, huh? Your last resort is to kick me out. I'm not exactly surprised considering this is you we are talking about," he saw the way his words cut into her. He had hit his mark, but at what cost?
"This is me we are talking about? What the fuck are you saying, King" she growled out.
"You know what I'm saying, don't you. You're running away the same way you always do; hiding behind your words and fake courage. Behind your Daddy's money," he sneered at her, noticing the way her chin jutted out in indignation.
"You don't fucking know shit, Pretty Boy."
"I know that your parties are your hideouts. I know that you smoke when something's bothering you. I know you hate to talk about your mom. But most of all, I know you cut yourself like a piece of meat, because you like the numbness. I know more than you give me credit for, SpongeBob."
She stared at him as an inexplicable rage took over her. She was over his judgmental ass. She was done.
"You might know shit about me, Sebastian King, but that doesn't mean you know me. You don't know why they happened. You don't know their reasons. You don't know fucking shit, so get of my business." She retorted back with vibes of anger emitting from her.
"That doesn't mean I don't want to. I want to know everything about you if you ever give me a chance. The thing is, though, you have to let me. You have to let me in, and you can't do that," he exclaimed in frustration, his hands running through his hair as he stared at her.
"Obviously! We are strangers. Why should I tell you shit?" She waved her hands in the air, annoyed at his presumptuous attitude of her having to tell everything to him.
"Because I care!" he finally burst out, "Isn't that good enough?"
"I wish," she looked away from him unable to handle the way he stared at her. Caring wasn't enough; nothing would ever be enough, because she was scared of sharing this with anyone. Scared of the monster they would see her.
She had experienced it and wasn't keen on going through it again.
"It's also better for you this way, Pretty Boy, saves you the agony of getting to know me, of pretending to want to." She quickly added, before walking past him ready to get away from the drama for once and all, when he said:
"No, it's not because I need you," he tried once again; already aware it was going to be a doomed effort. Rory Sandsburg wouldn't come around. That wasn't how she went about.
She stopped, her heart palpating in her chest. She didn't know what to say. It wasn't something she had given the slightest thought when she had asked him to meet her at the roof to end his lease. She hadn't expected it.
However, that didn't stop her from retorting back:
"And that would be your d o o m ."
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Roofies
Short Story"People who share the same roof are called Roofies. Singular form: Roofy," She did a small nod at the end as if approving her logic. "You do know it's a drug, right," He questioned, perplexed with her need to give them a name. They were barely ac...
