Piece By Piece | ✓

2 | tristan

     In the back of his mind, Tristan knew that he should've changed his phone number right before he started throwing his stuff into his luggage.

     He was already comfortable with his stay in the college he was attending, but as his phone continued to annoy him, it reminded him of the fact that his crazy ex-girlfriend was still stalking him just so she could get him back.

     Tristan snorted and rolled his eyes. No way in hell, he thought to himself.

     His cell phone kept ringing, an unknown number flashing on the screen. He didn't need to answer it, he already knew that it was Lillian calling him again.

     And as usual, he chose to ignore the call.

     Tristan vaguely recalled how he even managed to get along with such a crazy woman. He wasn't saying that all ex-girlfriends were crazy, but he was pretty damn sure that his ex was a woman who had loose, almost-detached and not-perfectly-maintained screws inside her brain.

     He cringed at the thought. Small shivers ran down his spine as he hastily threw every available piece of clothing from his drawers to his luggage.

     Tristan and Lillian had met at a Halloween party months ago. Long story short, they talked, hooked up in a vacant room later that night, and ended up exchanging numbers the next morning. They dated for a few weeks... until she pulled some creepy shit on him.

     The crazy—and creepy—shit started when he had let her stay with him for the night. It had been raining pretty hard after all; and although he thought of driving her back to her place, he decided against it—he didn't want to risk either of their safety.

     And when he woke up the next day, she wasn't beside him anymore. So he figured, if she wasn't there, then she must have left already. Relieved of the thought that Lillian was safe in her own home, he got out of bed, did a couple of push ups, then went straight to the bathroom to take a shower.

     So imagine his surprise when he saw her again once he got out of the shower. His eyes widened in shock and she gasped—totally caught in the act of the creepiest thing he had ever seen a girl doing.

     Lillian had been kneeling in front of his hamper, her back facing him, and she was still dressed in last night's clothes, her flaming red hair a tangled mess, her body tense and stiff as she slowly turned around to face him.

   What shocked and weirded him out more was the fact that she had his dirty underwear pressed against her nose when he caught her. It took him a good two seconds to process what he had just seen—his girlfriend was sniffing his dirty underwear. Holy shit.

     He had also noticed that his hamper was wide open and his dirty clothes were sprawled out around her in a chaotic disarray.

     "What the fuck are you doing, Lillian?" Tristan had demanded, staring at her with incredulous eyes. He wasn't an avid fan of arguments when it came to relationships, so when his voice ended up being louder than usual, Lillian's eyes widened in surprise.

     With shaky hands, she lowered his underwear, crumpled it up, and threw it back again to the hamper.

     Lillian had been unable to speak.

     "And why the hell are my dirty clothes inside your fucking bag?"

     For all he knew, she was going to take them home with her and pull some weird voodoo shit on him. Lillian apologized profusely, her eyes wild and panicked, her cheeks pink from embarassment.