High Buns, Suitcases and Cigars

High Buns Suitcases and Cigars | 7

•07•

Boom!

I jolted out my sleep. Again. Running a hand over my face, I turned my lamp on, light flooding the tiny room. I sat up, tired and very irritable.

The sudden memory that that girl was downstairs in my house asleep erased any tiredness I had.

I couldn't understand why I had such an intense hatred towards her, when I didn't even know who she was. As crazy as it sounds, I don't feel bad for the way I've been treating her.

People has been through worse shit then that anyway.

Checking the time to see it was pretty late, I decided to go downstairs. For what? To check on the girl to make sure she wasn't doing anything illegal in here.

I navigated my way through the darkness and down the stairs. The moonlight dimly lit the small living room. I saw the outline of her figure under the covers and stood there watching her.

After a few minutes, she jolted upwards, her breathing erratic. She looked wildly from side to side before her eyes landed on me.

Her gaze hardened as she glared at me.

"Why the hell are you here?"

I felt my blood boil at her sudden anger and rudeness. Who the hell was she too question why I was here? I owned this goddamn place - techincally - and she had no fucking right to ask me why I was standing in a certain spot in my home.

Stepping closer to her, I stared her down. "This is my fucking home, I can stand anywhere I fucking want. Don't like it? Then leave."

I'd hoped that she'd get fed up with my ignorance and leave, but she only stared back at me incrediously.

"What the hell is your problem?! I've done absolutely nothing to you, and you treat me like shit!" She was on the verge of screaming now.

I leant against the wall and smirked. "Then get out." I said.

She looked at me, bewildered, before speaking.

"What?"

"If you don't like it, then get the fuck out. Die for I all care."

Okay. I took that a little too far. As much as I hated her, telling her to die was a little to extreme.

I wasn't going to apologize, no that wasn't my forte, but I breathed heavily and ran a hand over my face. Guilt washed over me as I realized that I really shouldn't have said that. She didn't say nothing yet.

Shit! I did it again.

As I turned to leave, I heard her laugh humorlessly. "It feels like I've died already." I froze, unsure on how to respond. Should I stay and question her? Or leave without a word?

I chose the latter. I turned and made my way back up the stairs when I heard a clap of thunder. Jumping slightly, I cursed.

Damn thunder.

The girl shrieked and dove back under the covers, shaking. I could only laughed.

"You're scared of thunder?" I said, mocking her. She looked to be about eighteen, maybe nineteen, yet she's scared of a little thunder.

Her muffled voice sounded out from under the covers. "Yes. I-I know its stupid, but bad memories are associated with it."

Oh. I stared at her figure, now curious. I wondered what could be so bad of a memory to make someone afraid of thunder.

Ah, who the hell cares? She won't be staying long, and I don't really like her, so it doesn't matter to me.

I shook my head. "That's immature you know."

"I don't care, everyone has something they're afraid of."

I scoffed. Bullshit. Nothing scared me.
"Whatever baby."

I was about to retreat to my room again, when a thunder clap sounded.

This one was different though. The thunder was big and monstorous, shaking the whole house. It sounded horrible, and frightening. My eyes widened as the sound continued on, getting louder by the second. Then in a flash, three different lightening bolts crashed to the ground, striking two of the trees in front of the house.

What the hell was that?

My mind was on the girl for an odd reason. I looked over at her form under the covers and saw it was shaking violently, almost as if she was having a seizure.

I didn't notice that I moved towards her until I was crouching in front of her. Why I was making sure she was okay was beyond me.

I shook her, gently.

"Hey, are you okay?"

What I was doing surprised the hell out of me. How did I go from wanting her to go the hell away to wanting to comfort her?

I pulled back hastily, lips curling into a frown as I waited for her response. I forced myself to get irritated. This, this mushy feeling I felt wasn't something I enjoyed. I needed to be harsh towards her. Besides, it wasn't like we were friends or anything.

She pulled back the covers and I saw her eyes were slightly wet. "Yes." She whispered.

I frowned.

"You're lying."

She glared.

"So what?"

I felt something hot rising in my chest,but it wasn't anger.

I looked at her for a few moments, before saying the stupidest shit ever out of my mouth.

"You can come sleep upstairs with me."

Author's Note: Rowen, is someone getting soft & mushy? And sorry, I couldn't find a quote for the chapter.