A Match Made In Hell

Chapter 6

The rocking motion of the car is oddly relaxing. It makes my head bop forward and back. I gaze at the orange colored leaves and houses passing by like smudges. The stereo is set on meduim allowing a woman's voice to fill the car singing about God knows what. I didn't have the care to find out. My gaze too busy glued to the images outside. The fall colors of reds, orange, and browns in the trees always enchanted me.

"So, you just going to sit there or are you going to take a sip?" A voice that's becoming oh too familiar nowadays asks. I don't respond at first acting as if I can't hear him. I sprawl my fingers across my lap and glance discreetly at the golden yellow drink perched in the cup holder closest to me.

It had only been at least about twenty minutes since we left that god forsaken café. The whole ordeal was terrible to say the least. Just for a second I actually thought Saros Hellion wasn't as bad as I kept projecting him out to be. That was until he made me wait an hour in his car then proceeded to approach same said vehicle with none other than Sandra Blake in tow. A wide grin across his face as he gazed at her laughing.

Gag me.

Better yet, kill me.

Handling Saros Hellion is one thing, but dealing with Eres Chasten's best friend? Whole other ballpark that I don't wish to take play in.

Mortified at the thought of encountering her awkwardly for the second time this month and in Saros's car of all places. I had bent down so quickly that I ended up banging my head against the dashboard.

"Son of a bitch!" I squeaked weakly cradling my forehead. By the time Saros reached the car the moron stopped dead in his tracks looking at me in confusion bent over and holding my face.

"What are you doing?"

"Yoga" I deadpan.

"Weird. Never heard of that pose before" He retorts dropping into his seat and closing the door behind him. I force myself to nonchalantly sit up best way that I can still holding my head. Saros starts the car checking behind his shoulder to see if the coast is clear and for the sake of my sanity I decide to stay quiet instead of argue.

I rub my forehead silently for a while until the pain began to ease. Once the ache dissipates I drop my hands into my lap and tip my head back against the headrest. For a brief moment it's peaceful. Neither of us talk and we're actually in the same space without me wanting to rip his hair out. Which is an improvement these past few days, but of course golden boy could never survive without hearing his own voice.

"So, you just going to sit there or are you going to take a sip?"

"Sugar is bad for you" I only say.

"Isn't everything that's fun considered 'bad'?"

"Not really. Depending on what your version of fun is"

"I'd like to say I think free drinks are pretty fun" He shrugs giving me a look from the corner of my eye. "Besides you have a dessert in every other picture on your Instagram. You really expect me to believe you give a fuck about sugar being bad?"

"Went through my Instagram? Didn't think you thought I was that interesting" I smile sweetly. He chuckles.

"From what I remember you went through mine too, didn't you?" His raises a brow at me. That immediately wipes the smile off of my face. "Didn't think I was that interesting either"

"Never said you were. I told you it was my friend" I grumble.

"You can keep telling me that story all you want, but the more you do the less I believe it" He smiles at me. I only pout and stick my tongue out in response. That earns me an even wider grin. "Now why won't you drink the beverage I so nicely brought you?"