trouble | i.g

eight - "you're whipped"

Bella's POV

The footsteps stopped, the plastic soles of their shoes squeaking on the wood. My eyes widened, and I slowly turned towards Ian, finding that he doesn't seem to feel the urgency of the situation as he glances back at me with a smile.

"Hello?" The person called back, slowly coming down our way.

"Fucking Hell," Ian whispered just at the same time I declared, "It's my mom."

We both scrambled to our feet, looking around frantically in the enclosed living room for some sort of escape route. Cold dread washed over my body, making my skin flush. I'm beyond screwed. Caught skipping school with Ian, of all people.

I closed my eyes and braced myself for her entrance, prepared to get yelled at and locked in my room for eternity. It's just as I began aggressively praying that Ian silently hooks his arm around my elbow and drags me into the adjoining coat closet. The door shuts just as she enters.

"Hello?" She repeated. We froze, both of us waiting with bated breath. I heard her mumble something about the tv being on as she crossed the room.

Through the darkness of the closet, my eyes began to focus, making out the outline of Ian across from me. The closet was not ideally made for two people to hide from a mother in, so the lack of space between us made me nervous but seemed to please Ian. He shuffled closer to me, shoulders shaking with held back laughter.

"We're screwed." He whispered, hot breath fanning over my cheeks. From this close I could feel his body heat radiating off his skin, smelling like cigarettes and weirdly enough- fresh apple pie.

I pressed myself against the far wall, trying not to disturb the coats hanging on the racks. On the other side of the door I heard the couch groan as someone sat on it, and the tv volume got turned up. She was watching tv. Of all the possible days to come home early.

"This isn't funny," I whispered back, "We're going to die in here. My mom will accidentally find our decaying bodies two weeks from now, and all our hair will be missing because we had to eat it to fight off starvation; our faces disfigured from the rats that have been gnawing at our carcasses."

Ian made a face, "That was alarmingly graphic."

I grabbed his collar and shook him hard, "We need a plan."

"Well- and I'm just throwing ideas out here- we could play seven minutes in Heaven."

I was not seeing the humor in the situation, "We're going to have to dig," I declared bluntly, dropping to my knees and scrabbling at the wood floor with clawed hands, "Channel your inner badger." I dug like my life depended on it, and might've even began to chew through the wood in my frenzy. Ian struggled to detach me from the floor.

"Sweetheart," He said, voice strained with complete laughter, "You're sort of freaking out."

The thin light leaking in from the door illuminated his face just enough so I could make out his red copper tinged locks and playful smile. I stuck my tongue out at him irritably, not risking a snappy reply. Ian looked momentarily surprised before sticking his tongue out also.

"I can get us out of this," Ian countered softly, "But I'll need to call for outside help."

"Do it." I begged, tugging anxiously on the hem of his jacket.