Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"There are three things you cannot recover in life: the word after it is said, the moment after it is missed, and time after it is gone."
Evan's POV
The air was stuffy in this tiny apartment. I turn on the small fan located in the corner of the living room, hoping, even for a moment, the cool air would give me respite from the outside heat. Elle ran past me as I sat down on the small loveseat and stood directly in front of the fan.
"Excuse you! I turned that on for me!" I exclaimed, annoyed.
She turns around to face me, while her hair blows in front of her to block her entire expression, but underneath her mess of black hair I can make out a small laugh. "Then why aren't you standing in front of it?" She turns her back on me again, completely blocking any and all air from me.
Slowly and silently I push myself off of the loveseat and sneak behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist and picking her up. She squirms in my arms as I turn us around so my body is in front of the fan.
"Don't mind if I do." I chuckle.
"Hey! I was there first, that's not fair!" She complains, pouting.
"Sorry Elle, but you really need to work on your persuasion skills." She crosses her arms and pouts more.
"That's not going to work on me this time." I say, steadfast.
She gives a loud sigh and sits down on the couch. Her body shifts uncomfortably, and she puts her hand through the section of the two cushions of the couch, revealing a needle and syringe. Anger flares in her eyes.
"What the fuck is this?" She questions. I can see she is controlling her anger, but if I don't have a good comeback, I'm doomed.
"That's an old one," I say quickly, and I cross my arms. "I swear I've quit for good."
Elle gets up, throwing the syringe onto the couch. She stomps towards me and grabs my arms, trying to pull my arms apart, but I keep them tightly crossed in front of my chest.
"Show me your fucking arms, Evan!" She screams.
"I told you I quit, why can't you just believe me for once?" I ask, trying to keep the sweat from exiting my pores.
"Show me."
I let her pull my arms loose and she examines them with meticulous touches, looking up to me every once and a while for signs of pain. She pushes around my vein, and I close my eyes to keep myself from wincing. I can hear her give an audible sigh, and she pushes on the middle of my arm, hard enough to make me groan.
"I fucking knew it!" Elle yells at me.
"Elle, please. I swear these are old, you have to believe me."
