Painting For My Grandpa | √Wattys 2016

Painting For My Grandpa #21

I stood before the mahogany door of the house I was dreading to enter.

I lifted my hand to knock, hesitated, dropped my hand back down and then lift it up again but still refrain from knocking.

"Well? Are we going to stand here forever," Zara joked, raising an eyebrow at me.

"No?" I dragged out my reply, nervousness creeping under my skin.

"Then knock and ring that doorbell," she said in a reassuring tone.

I stared at the doorbell and started to hope it would explode and melt if I stared at it hard enough. Obviously it didn't, however.

Suddenly, a hand shot out and swiftly knocked the door and rang the doorbell.

I turned to glare at the culprit, only earning a shrug in reply from her.

"You weren't going to press it anytime soon," she reasoned simply, offering a sly smile.

"Zar-" I began to whine, just as the door opened to reveal the familiar brunette boy with clear blue eyes and the pair of pink lips I had always adored.

"Riff," I breathed, anxiety washing over me.

And boy was I unprepared in seeing him.

His usually soft brown hair was dishevelled and looked coarse . Dark rings encircled his eyes which had a dull and lifeless look, a huge contrast from his usual bright, happy, shining blue eyes. He stared at me blankly for a moment before he blinked and his dull blue eyes flashed a look of recognition.

"Aspen," he said in a hoarse voice. He looked like he wanted to say more but was obviously restraining himself.

He didn't hug me like he usually does as soon as he sees me, he didn't smile at me in the way he always does that makes me feel melty and warm inside.

There was barely anything in his reaction.

The life in him just seemed drained away.

There was an uncomfortable silence where we just stared at each other, trying to read each other's minds.

He eventually pulls the door open wider and gestured for us to enter the house.

The silence remained unbroken.

Zara excused herself , sneaking up to her room instantly.

The room was now filled with the awkward silence. Every movement of our muscles could be heard and the tension was so thick it could be cut by a knife.

Break the silence already, I urged at him in my mind, trying to show him my thoughts with my eyes which obviously came to no avail.

"I tried calling you. And I texted you too," he spoke eventually in a soft and worn-out tone. 

"I know," I said meekly, absentmindedly playing with my fingers.

"I didn't want to talk to you until I had calmed down. The last thing we need is another argument," I explained, guilt washing over me when Riff's eyes showed a hint of hurt. 

"Oh." Just then Grandma comes out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Her eyes widened to become as big as saucers when she saw me and I could almost see her begin to tremble slightly. 

"Aspen," she whispered, obviously at a loss for words. 

I felt irritation rise in me but I bit the inside of my cheek until a slight metallic taste spreads in my mouth and forced myself to not blow up too quickly.