Obsessions

Chapter Five

The floorboards creak obnoxiously with each step taken through the apartment. His eyes skim over my messy apartment; an amused shine in his eyes.

"I've got to be honest with you Angel, this isn't what I was expecting."

"No judgments," I look back at him, gesturing around, " This is my mess of a home and this is how I like it. So if you plan to be judgemental or rude about my house you know where the exit is."

He raises a perfectly arched eyebrow, a laugh vibrating from within his chest, " No judgements here darlin', I'm almost one hundred percent sure that my house is a lot messier than this."

I watch him curiously. The likelihood of that being true is very slim. This is probably him just trying to be all gentlemanly in making me feel better about this mess. Though there is nothing to make me feel better about. The house is a mess from me having to work and having no time to clean. The mess brings me comfort. It shows that I have better things to do with my time than to be cleaning up some stupid mess.

"Aren't you going to show me around?" His voice echoed in my ears. I furrowed my brows and looked up at his towering frame. I couldn't help but laugh at the question.

"Well, as you can see, this is my kitchen, " I started, turning around and pointing towards where the heaping pile of pots and plates sat, " We are in the living room in case you didn't happen to notice the sofa." I couldn't help the sass that slips through and weaves its way around every word I uttered.

It was plainly obvious what was where. It almost felt as if the man before me were mocking the small space we were in. Though it was quite amusing, seeing this brute of a man in such a small space. The apartment being way to small for the both of us. That may be why I never tried to get a roommate, someone to help pay the rent, there wouldn't be enough room.

"You have quite a lovely home."

Gentlemen, elegance, lordly are all the words I would use to describe how he was acting. The amusement vanishing as he took me in. Probably hoping to not humiliate me.

My only response was the roll of my eyes before I plopped down on the sofa, he did the same. James sat atop of a pile of clothes that had been previously left there.

No disgust, just pure warmth maybe even curiosity. His eyes were a lit while his gazed around the room yet again.

"What's it like," his voice came out a low whisper, barely audible to my own ears, even while sitting beside him.

I frown as I watch him, his eyes glazed over with some emotion that I couldn't comprehend, " What's what like?"

"Having a home like this, coming home and having it feel worn and comfortable. Feel welcoming," the words seemed to fade away while his eyes locked on mine, his head tilted slightly to the side as if he were a curious little puppy, " What's it like?"

I suck in a breath and shake my head, "This house is a little less than a home. I feel alone here, abandoned," I shrug and force myself to look away from his stunning eyes, " this place, this 'home', as you would call it, is not my home." Tears rimmed my eyes trying to flow over the dam of my eyelids.

"Where is your home then?" His eyes watch me, I can feel them, burning a flame into my skin.

My home? The river flows from my eyes, slowly trickling over the dam and rushing down my cheeks. I take in a shaky breath, standing up with a jolt.

"You must be hungry. I'll put on some soup," I rush out before speeding to the kitchen, my hands grabbing the only clean pot left in the house and a can of soup that I had in the cupboards, the only thing I had in those cupboards.

James watched, following my every move, while I made sure to keep my eyes off him. Trying to stop myself from fully breaking down right then and there.

Home... Where is my home? The sad truth to that innocent question. I will never have a home.

I make a list for myself. The list of distraction, the list of making this soup.

Turn the stove on. Fill the pot with the soup. Stir the whole time so I don't have to look at him. Fill bowls. Then finally give it to James but before doing this I must stop my tears.

I follow the list to the Tee, wiping my tears away violently, all while keeping my head down, not wanting to face the stranger sitting on the sofa.

When I turn to him only to find him missing. Gone. The space he had once occupied left empty.