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lea | alec
LEA BURIES her head in her book after leaving an exasperated sigh. After endless hours of binge-reading The Awakening, a lazy yawn escapes from her lips. She had her reason when she decided that she wanted to be an English major and aside from the fact that she loved books, little did she know that being an English major would come with eternal hours of having to read boring books but it wasn't like she complained. She had an infectious amount of love for the language and as well as reading.
She folds her arms and places them under her head for support as she lies on the table, restlessly. Feeling the hardness of the plywood seep into her bones, she seeks another comfortable material which would offer her a good nap, erasing the hecticness of her day that was Monday. Picking her phone from the pile of books that are scattered on her table, her legs casually snake towards her bed. In a matter of seconds, her head hits the soft material of her pillow.
She throws her arm around her head to restrict the flow of light into her eyes when her phone buzzes with a notification.
why does it feel weird texting you all of a sudden?
Alec didn't text her after that day and Lea didn't make an effort to start a conversation for the past week. She has been rather busy with her assignments to be thinking about him and it was only after reading his text, she realizes that she missed him.
..?
i know i didn't care that we were strangers but it feels really weird to start a conversation with someone i haven't really met. do you feel the same or am i alone?
i thought you were okay with it.
i get the feeling that i'm a creep. don't you think it's wrong to text a girl who sent a message to a wrong number?
Lea sits on the edge of her bed too surprised to process his words. In the span of a few weeks, she made a good friend out of him - who is amazing, in a contagious way - and she would be lying if she said that she didn't their little conversations. Every inch of her fear texting a stranger diminished into pieces.
Unlike Lea, who treated him like a stranger that he was, he treated her as though he was talking to an old friend; he simply made things better. He was funny, sweet and wonderful and the thought of not being able to talk to him causes a burning feeling in the pit of her stomach.
do you want to stop?
Regret, immediately, enters into her body as she types the words and her fingers slap her forehead, precariously, as she realizes that she hit the send button. She sits silently on her bed, cross-legged and watches the light on the phone go off. A groan escapes her lips due to impatience.
It's only minutes, the light on her phone blinks and she wastes no time opening it.
..no.
aside from the fact that my girlfriend hinted that i'm texting a random stranger who's a girl, i think i'm fine.
She feels her throat run dry.
oh my god. what was her reaction?
well, she kinda did accuse me of cheating on her, but i proved her wrong by telling her that we're just friends.
i know it's only been a few days but i like talking to you. it doesn't sound so creepy, does it?
not at all. but if i'm afraid that you might damage your relationship by something as stupid as this.
we're friends, right? friends can talk to each other.
yes. but are you sure that she's okay with it?
She waits for him to reply whilst tapping her phone on her palm. She fills uncertainty and guilt fill her composure. A part of her wants to stop talking to him, afraid that she could damage something that he values so much and a part of her wants to continue - there isn't a reason; she just does. Everything else pales in comparison.
After what it feels like hours of regret and remorse, he sends her a text.
she wants to talk to you.
She feels fright devour her wholly.
hey, lea. this is harper.
oh. hey, harper.
how do i know that you didn't get his number accidentally and that you didn't plan it all out?
i wouldn't. really.
so, are you telling me that it's all coincidental?
yes, as long as i know.
you have to fear nothing, i wouldn't want to cause damage between the two of you. i'm well aware of the fact that he's taken. we're just friends.
how do i know you're not lying?
Embarrassment consumes her body throughout as she feels her face turn red. Never in her life, not once has she been ill-treated by someone and carrying an accusation for something that wasn't truly a fact humiliated her.
She throws her phone away from her, to the far side of her bed and buries herself underneath her pillow, too tired to face the reality of the world. Her phone buzzes next to her, but she doesn't pick it up. Followed by another plenty of notifications, she throws her phone into her bedside drawer, to inhibit the entrance of the annoying sound into her ears and therefore, covers them with her pillow.
We're just strangers, she tells herself. You don't know him.
