She Was Like Magic ✓

Chapter 7: Unspoken

Ari

The white sheets rustled as I tossed and turned again and again. I could not find a comfortable position and it wasn't because my body was restless, my emotions were. They were scattered, mixed up, interlinked and convoluted.

I sighed and lay on my back as I stared up at the ceiling seeing nothing in the darkness. Nothing but the pale white paint stared back at me. I could hear the leaves rustling against my window pane and the wind whistling as it blew.

I ran a hand over my face. A week. A fucking week.

I was going to go crazy. It was my fault. I should have brought a girl home tonight, I should have distracted myself, I should have given myself some much needed release. But I was on autopilot all week, just mindlessly doing everything.

I got up most morning this week went my alarm went off usually already awake or I was stirring in a light sleep with fragmented thoughts drifting around in my unconscious.

I ate with no idea what I was eating just to keep myself alive. I was going to classes as I focussed on class and came home to study and complete assignments well before they were due.

And my nights had been the most changed. No parties, no girls, no sex. Just hours of fucking laying here and not getting some decent sleep.

This is why one night of sex was enough. It should never be prolonged because at least when you lose sleep its voluntarily in that situation, not because of some fucked up emotions.

I couldn't get that image of her out of my head. We had just been all over each other and even though we hadn't really spoken about it, I thought we were only messing about with each other.

But I guess I was too fucking gracious. Because that image of her never left my mind. Pressed up against that wall with that guy leaning into her. If I didn't turn and leave at that very moment I could have swore he would have ended up in the hospital because of me with some very colourful artwork on his face and deconstructed bones served by me.

That wasn't even the worst of it. Even if I had kicked the fucking shit out of that guy that was asking about Sierra earlier, I would have had no right to. It wasn't like we agreed to be exclusive. Sierra and I both had no aptitude for that. And yet here I was so fucking pissed at that bastard. Which just made me mad at myself because there was no reason I was allowed to be and yet still I was.

I sat up on the bed and patted the bed for my phone. When I found out and I pressed the lock button, my eyes winced shut as they tried to readjust to the bright light shining from my phone.

Great. It was 3.38am.

My hand automatically flew to the tattoo on my chest, brushing over it unconsciously. But when I did realise my hands flew down to my sides fisting the sheets and my teeth were clenched. 

I got up and went to the bathroom. I mindlessly relieved myself and washed my hands and then stumbled back to bed only to flop down on it, the mattress bouncing.

Memories of Sierra kept washing over me in fragments like something broken brushing past me. She had tried all week to try and get me to talk to her, but nothing had worked. 

Her first attempt, I kept looking at her in Dunkirk's class on Monday. But she kept looking up at me staring intently, but as soon as she did I looked away. My head dropped to the words floating mindlessly on the page in front of me.

I knew I shouldn't. My mind was telling me no repeatedly but I wanted to see if she was bothered. If she cared. So against my will, I kept staring at her. I kept letting my eyes find her. Kept letting my eyes take her in even though it caused me to feel uneasy, I just could not look away. And sure enough within a minute, she would peer her head up like she could feel my eyes on her and my head would drop down again.