Pain 2: Him (H.S)

Chapter 23

Warning: Sexual Content.

"You alright?" I laugh after Alee trips walking through the door with yet another box of pizza in her hands. That's the third time this week but we don't have any kitchenware in the apartment yet so ordering out is our only option since we're both too lazy to go home and cook.

I lashed out pretty bad earlier and I'm honestly surprised she didn't cry even more. I don't know what took over me but I don't remember the last time I was that heated. I was mad about the whole therapist calling me abusive and shit but the thought of someone touching her triggered me. I kept apologizing for yelling at her and raising my voice towards her because I felt bad. I'm learning to control it though. I'm trying to create a filter for my anger and be less of an asshole, so hopefully it's working.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Her smile seems distant but I only know it's because of her friend. I don't know who Tammy is, maybe I do, I don't know but it hurts me seeing her sad. She was quiet the entire ride to the pizza parlor and here, and the silence is driving me fucking insane. She's always smiling and laughing and never shutting up, which I'm not complaining about, but not having her talk every second is making me nervous.

I hate the silence.

"Here, give me." The bottle of Pepsi hangs over my two fingers in it's plastic bag as I hold the brown paper one with the fries in my palm, and I take the box from her. I kick the door shut and we walk to the living room and I place everything on the expensive glass table and we both take our seats beside each other. This place cost me a shit load of money and I kind of feel bad that I spent so much on a temporary place when there are people out there who have absolutely nothing, but I want to make her happy even though accessories and shit like this aren't the only source to hers.

She goes and comes here and there, smiling at me when I talk indicating that she's listening then dozes off for a few seconds before snapping back to reality. "Do you want to talk about it?" I ask folding the box of pepperoni pizza and ripping open the brown paper bag. I know how she hates to keep her feelings bottled, God knows how many times that has happened which always escalated into a bigger problem, but I don't want her to fret over this.

"Talk about what?" Her voice is foreign and dull.

"Tammy," I recollect.

"What?" Her brows crease in confusion as do mine, "oh, right. Yeah, no. No, I'm fine." She places her tiny hand on my thigh and grabs the two plastic plates off the table and separates them. I watch her put two slices on each plate, opening the bag of hot fries and dumping it in the empty spaces where the slices were, and hands me my plate.

"Are you sure?" It's weird to me to be quite honest. She has never hung out with Tammy or even talked about her but I'm in no position to tell her how to feel.

"Yeah, can you pour us a glass of soda?" She asks taking a bite into her pizza and I rummage through the plastic bag for the two red cups we asked the baker for. Sometime next week Alee wants to go to Ikea to buy some shit for the place. She says she wants to buy all white plates and bowls and those other shit you keep in kitchens. It makes me happy that she so into the place now. I love how in love she is with it just as I am and just the thought of her cooking is a turn on.

"We should've went to red box." She leans back against the white couch and crosses her legs holding her plate on top. "We could've picked out a good movie."

"We have Netflix." Nothing beats Netflix.

"Right, but the T.V is huge I want to watch a movie on there. Plus, the speaker towers look amazing. Just imagine the base on it."

"I'll pick one up after we eat and we'll watch it tonight," I lean back beside her, "sounds good?"

"Mhmm." She smiles chewing. I kiss her red cheek feeling the heat from it against my cool lips. I hope that when we're done we can test out the shower but she's so down I don't think it's going to happen. I could tickle her or something to get it going and lighten her mood but I don't want to make her feel like she has to. "School starts next Tuesday." She informs me literally killing my joy.