The city that greets New York is bleak and humid. Sirens across and car honks make-up the backdrop of any street conversation.
He doesn't really know what he aims to achieve by having dragged her outside. "Theresa, look –"
"Theresa this, Theresa that. Bla, bla, bla."
Shit, ain't she the poster for drunk. "Theresa, I never meant to insult you. I wasn't thinking straight, I was just too ang–"
"No, nooo. I think you were thinking pree–tty straight. You did call me to ask why right? So all you need is a reason to forgive me?"
"What?" He really should not be having this conversation with her in this state. "No, Theresa –"
"Stop with all the Theresas for heaven's sake Jake!"
"Right, sorry. We should be talking about this with you pissed."
"Give me a break. Pissed or not, it doesn't make my words any less true. Neither did you being 'too mad a Stephan to think straight'. You're just trying to excuse yourself, too afraid my 'reason' won't match up to your expectations?"
"You're putting words into my mouth, this was not –"
"Oh, please. It's what you're thinking." She was starting to feel lightheaded, this was not how she had ever envisioned her next encounter with him.
"Quit it!"
"Quit it you! You don't actually want a reason, you want an excuse from me! A pretty little excuse to act like a band-aid you can put over the idea you have of me!"
"What? Where on earth do you draw these conclusions from?" He was starting to lose his patience, she wasn't acting pissed, she was acting carelessly.
"From you! From all, you've said, and done –"
"Give me a break."
"Fine! If all you want is a pathetic little reason, I can give it to you right now!"
He's done with her, his eyes narrow at the sight of her desperate acts.
She scoffs and walks away.
YOU ARE READING
Emotional Outlets | ✓
Historia CortaIn which a hooker falls in love with her client's roommate. snippet: "She'd wanted to slap him. Right across that goddamn handsome face. But then again, he is right. Isn't he? She is actually a whore. Isn't she?"
