Move On? No (ON HOLD)

Chap 10 : I'm snookered

"Awake, dear heart, awake. Thou hast slept well. Awake." - William Shakespeare

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I sat in my room, on the floor, bound to my charging phone. Well, it has it's pros, I can text play truth or dare with Mr. Aiden. I wonder what he would ask?

"So what is your favourite colour?" His long awaited text pops up.

Dude, you've got to be kidding me.

"Really!? Of all the things you could've asked, you wanna know my favourite colour?" I reply.

"I didn't know exactly what to ask so..."

"Ook. But, I don't really know my favourite colour and it mostly depends on what I'm being asked about. For example, I kinda look good in purple so um ya, maybe that's it."

I really am a confused wreck.

"Hmmm."

"My turn, truth or dare?" I reply, already thinking about what I should ask, now that I have a chance.

"Truth" comes his reply.

After quite a lot of thought I send a  "Do you love your parents?" And I regret it almost immediately - way too straightforward. Snd wierd. And what the hell was I thinking!!

Idk, maybe the fact that you doubt you love yours...

The time he takes to reply makes me think that perhaps I really shouldn't have asked it. But then I see the dots. He's finally typing.

"No, I don't really love them but I like them."

Am I the only one who thinks this is sad? Though I really wanted to know more, I don't press, cause it's none of my business and it's just a game.

"Oh" I type.

I don't either.

"My turn, truth or dare?"

I feel something along the line of rebellious and send "Dare."

And wait.

"Come to Dessville."

Ooh..

Way to catch someone off guard.

"You know that's not possible," and I think more before typing more, "And what's even the point in asking? There's only one possible choice - truth, it's not like we could do any other dare anyways."

He didn't ask for my opinion, so why did I have to reply with that?

And why did he say that?

"Ok. So now you ask me truth or dare."

I don't want to be asked and spill and sound like a sad panda but, at the same time, I want to be asked and spill and sound like a sad panda. I fail to understand myself but I still reply with:

"No, that wasn't a proper one. So you can ask me a truth instead."

He takes his time to reply. Or more like his time to mentally torture me.

"What is it that you regret the most?"

I pause.

I don't know.