What Hurts The Most [Austin Mahone Fan Fiction]

What Hurts The Most: Number 12

What Hurts The Most: Number 12

            Claire’s POV

 

            I wiped the tears off my face and turned the music station off; I can’t be like this right now. Anybody could walk in and see me like this. Anybody like Austin. I had to get out of here, like now. I got up and took off my ballet shoes.

            I can’t be crying like this, it shows that I’m weak and everybody around knows I’m the rock of the family, that I don’t let things get to me, I brush things off, but this shows Austin is the only exception—maybe he is, maybe he isn’t.

            It’s no lie I have strong feelings for Austin, but I don’t know if those feelings are positive or negative.

~*

            “Claire, did I leave my phone here?” Alex asked when he entered the kitchen.

            I was eating a grilled cheese sandwich and a glass of orange juice with hot cheetos on the side.

            “Yeah,” I mumbled, stuffing food in my mouth. I didn’t want to seem like a pig, but I was just focusing on my food.

            “Can I have it back?” he raised his eyebrow, propping his elbows on the counter.

            “Yeah, sure,” I said through the food in my mouth.

            He looked at me for a couple of seconds before giving me a look. “Like now maybe would work, ya know.”

            “Ugh, that requires walking,” I sigh, rolling my eyes.

            “Ugh, I’ll get it, you lazy bum,” Alex gave me a playful look then ran up the stairs.

            I shrugged, not really caring what he called me. The sandwich was too good to go and smack him on the head and curse him with all my beautiful words. I had food in my mouth when Austin entered the kitchen. I stopped chewing and just looked at the counter, not making eye contact with him.

            “What’s up?” he broke the silence, probably not looking at me either.

            “Just chewing, you know; same old, same old,” I swallowed my food, finally looking at him. He was already looking at me. Don’t Claire, don’t stare at him. I couldn’t help but stare at him; eyes his, eyes face structure, his lips, his cheeks, the way his forehead makes creases when he actually smiles.

            “What, why are you looking at me like that,” he asked, smirking just a little.

            “Oh, no nothing; sorry lost in my own little world,” I shook my head a little, taking another bite of my food. “Are you planning to leave soon?”

            He looked taken back a little, “Why do you want me to leave?”

            “Well, I do live in this house; it’s unusual for you to be here for like eight to ten hours, so after you think about it, yeah, I’d kind of like you to leave.”

            “Well then, me and Robert are talking, sorry if that’s bothering you.” he replies.

            “You guys can’t go to a skate park, or somewhere else to talk about it?” I suggested.