for better or for worse // mitchel cave (completed)

part V

i can't lie. clinton and i's meeting did spark something. we didn't just hang out for a night and then finish talking. as a matter of fact, i developed a companionship with him and i'm not sure if our kisses and flirtatious comments meant more.

christian happened to be the funniest guy in fucking existence, and my only complaint with him is the excessive amount of girls he brings back to the house when clinton and i were chilling.

he seemed like a really fun time as i've unluckily heard through the walls. either way, he was chill. but mitchel cave. where the hell do i even start? anytime i was summoned over to the house by clinton, mitchel would lock himself in his room so he didn't have to interact with clinton and i.

sometimes he would exit the house to go do whatever, and the most i got out of him was a nasty stare directed at clinton and a display of scruffy brown hair.

i can't tell who he's bothered with and i just don't comprehend his dislike. as far as jessie went, she didn't talk to me as much which was a blow. she's remained my best friend forever but i imagine the situation at hand took her back.

i realized she would get over it soon but it still didn't mean i was okay with her ignoring me. at this exact moment in time, i was sitting cross legged on clinton's bed, going through his vinyl collection while we chatted and laughed about anything and everything.

my only genuine protest with clinton was how superficial our relationship was. it's not like he didn't make me flush and giggle with all his praise, but i wasn't sure i felt a passionate connection.

my connection with mitchel was probably more forceful. sure, our connection wasn't love but rather hate, but at least it was a connection of some sorts. speak of the devil, clinton was talking to me about mitchel at this moment.

"don't think he hates you lara. he's been acting like this for the past 2 weeks and he's being a real pain in the ass to me. i think his attitude is directed towards me."

"so why does he leave every time i come over? it doesn't make sense." i sighed, putting my head in my hands. clinton dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "mitchel is a mystery, but i'm almost positive this mystery has more to do with me than you."

i nodded, trying to convince myself of this but it just seemed too uncanny that all of this began when clinton and i started hanging out. i've always attempted to be nice to mitchel but he's being a true dick.

i whirled around to face clinton and took my lip in between my teeth, sensing my stomach growl. "i'm gonna grab some snacks for us from the kitchen." i noted upon my stomach growling.

he nodded, leaning up to peck my lips gently. i actually had no idea what the hell we were but the companionship was nice. i shot him a small smile and padded down the steps to the kitchen.

where i, of course, stopped dead in my tracks. there was none other than mitchel the mystery, standing shirtless while he prepared some breakfast. a few things were running through my head at this moment.

first of all, damn, he looks fine as hell shirtless. i couldn't help but check him out for a split second before inwardly slapping myself. you kissed clinton 30 seconds ago and now you're checking out his deranged brother, nice laralyn.

i swallowed a bit and cleared my throat. mitchel jumped for an instant and then turned around to see me. his eyes held a certain emotion that i couldn't quite differentiate.

"hey mitchel." i said softly, walking to the cabinet beside him that held the snacks. he looked over at me, one of his hands starting to play with his braids. "hello laralyn."

i preoccupied myself trying to find a good snack. "you know you can just call me lara. everyone else does." i proposed, but he shook his head. "laralyn, you'll soon find out i'm not everyone else."

i grew rather antagonized. what was his problem anyway? "you're right, most people don't hate me for no reason at all." i answered, trying not to get a temper.

he stifled a chuckle before collapsing his cheery appearance and looked down. "number one, i don't hate you." he snapped in a tone that seemed to say quite the opposite.

i rolled my eyes, trying not to let him get to me. "yes you do. at least admit how you're feeling." i sighed. he gave an ironic laugh, closing his eyes for a moment.

"i don't think it would be too appropriate with clinton and whatnot if i told you exactly how i feel about you." i wanted to slap him. he must be referring to how he hates me.

it's the only possible explanation for the way he's been treating me and i just didn't want to hear anymore of his bullshit. "yeah well that just proves my point." i muttered in disbelief, grasping a bag of chips and turning to leave.

i felt him tightly grip my wrist. "laralyn, wa-" he spoke, cutting himself off as i wrenched back around, a look of annoyance evident on my face. "never mind." he exhaled, but his grasp on my wrist lingered longer than expected.

i finally pulled my wrist from his grip and stumbled up the stairs, unable to get our exchange off my mind.

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what are y'all thinking abt mitchel rn? is he hiding something or is he just a dick eee guess the world will never know. (jk y'all might just find out soon) please vote and comment, it's always very appreciated. much love x