sued into submission 🌷 tracob

20

Troye Sivan

"Mellet," Mr Bixenman whistles, catching my attention and making me turn to the suited man walking passed bodies to get to me.

"Mr Bixenman," I nod.

"Ready to go?" He asks.

"Yeah, I uh- wanna talk to you about something a little birdy told me." I look around the room to see Ms Nef off murmuring to a man in a business suit. 

He shrugs, "Alright, off we go."

And so we did, me following close behind as he more or less struts out of the building. How he managed to outshine dozens upon dozens of models, I'm not sure, but then again, he is Jacob Bixenman. He has his ways. 

"So what rumour did you hear today?" He inquires once we're in his car, him blasting the air conditioning up and making shivers run down my spine.

"Um, Hari. Hari Nef, she uh- she said that supposedly us dating is the top scandal of 2017? I just, I'm kinda confused. We aren't dating and I thought you said no one knows I even live with you." I shake my head, running my hands up and down my arms in an attempt to try to warm up. 

He keeps his vision directed straight ahead at the road, only making himself look suspicious.

"Did you lie to me?" I ask.

He glances at me through his peripheral vision and then back to the road, clenching his jaw and sighing. 

"Yeah."

"Yeah?" I question, "Why would you lie?"

"Thought it would comfort you." He mumbles.

I scoff, "Well, that's awfully dumb of you."

He finally turns his head to me and quirks a brow up, "Excuse me?"

"It is. You don't have to lie to spare my feelings. Just be honest with me." I murmur through furrowed brows, not seeing his point. 

He mirrors my look, the two of us more or less one upping each other until I crack and sigh, looking away and resting my head against the window. 

"Oka-" He cuts himself off as he looks back to the road and slams on the breaks.

I whip my head up just in time to see us almost run over a poor old lady, my breath catching in my throat in seconds. 

"Shit." He whispers.

"Shit, shit shit. If anyone saw, press is gonna have a field da-"

He is once again cut off, this time by the white haired old lady hollering and throwing coins from her purse at him. 

"Stuuupid rich, snooty, white boy! Get the bloody hell outta here!" She shouts, making the both of our eyes widen considerably. 

"O-oh, alright, how about we-" I start.

"Oi! How are we supposed to get outta here if you're in front of 'ma car throwing coins?!" Mr Bixenman yells back as he rolls down his window. 

"Bix- stop, what are you doing? Let's just get out of here." I shake my head at him while the two then seem to have their own feud. 

"You're the one that almost ran me over!" She snips.

"You're the one that was in the way!"

"This is a crosswalk!"

"This is a busy main street!"

"You're a prissy little rich boy!"

"You're an old hag!"

"Screw you!"

"Piss off!"

"Jacob!" I cut in, "Let's go!"

He turns to me, glares, back to the lady, hoots his horn, revs his engine, watches as the lady runs off, then speeds off down the road. 

"Don't raise your voice at me... ever." He mutters.

"I'm sorry," I mumble, "But you weren't making smart choices and could've gotten yourself in trouble."

"Why do you care?" He questions bitterly, taking me back a bit.

"W-wha-?"

"Nothing, Sivan. It's nothing." He sighs, turning up the volume to the news and listening far too intently to it. I don't bother pushing, knowing he would probably snap and hurt my feelings. 

He's so complicated.

And confusing. 

Though I'm still so hopelessly interested in him. 

...

"We're going out with Hari Nef this weekend, find something to wear." He mutters later that evening, setting a laptop down in front of me at the table I've been sat at alone for half an hour. I've been aimlessly picking at my food and more playing with it than eating it. 

I look up at him and tilt my head to the side, "Something to wear?"

He nods, walking away to the kitchen.

"Yeah, whatever you want to wear on a yacht. I don't care." He calls, his voice echoing from the room. 

Well, alright. Whatever I want?

Do I want something that I'll like or something that he'll like? Me or him? Me or him, me or him, me or him, me or him, me or-

Decision made.

Order.

Accept.

Deliver.

-

a/n: im back bitch (im also still inconsistent, we already know this)

it's six am sO don't @ and drag me for at least another two hours, then you can flame me all you'd like for neglecting this story. i just need two hours of sleep then u shall drag me all you like. okay goodnight munchkins, sleep tight (or good morning wassu-goodnight!)