When I am inspired, it can become incredibly difficult to decide whether I would like to read or write. A majority of the time I do end up writing. Reading will not sustain me to the same extent. My mind will wander, making it difficult to be focused on the same passage for too long. Rather than rereading a paragraph for ten minutes, I let my mind sprint from idea to idea.
The only thing that seems to break this concentration is an interruption from another person. Sometimes it is a simple text message, sometimes it takes a knock on the door. Unfortunately, this time the knocking persisted. All I could do was sigh, I wasn’t in the mood for his company right now.
The keyboard clicks came to a halt. The knocking halted at this point as well, making me question getting up to answer the door.
“Anna!” He kind of chuckles. “I know you’re in there!” The knocking pounds into my temples. “I just want to talk.”
“Let yourself in!” I yell out. This is followed by a muttering of: “You usually do anyway…”
Michael swings open the door, practically making it collide with the wall. “Oh, shit.” He seems to be apologizing to the door.
“How’s my favorite… person?” He struts over, wobbling a bit. He flings himself backwards over the couch, nearly landing on top of me.
“Kind of busy,” I run a hand through my tangled hair.
He flips around, just missing kicking me in the face. “I was thinking,” He completely ignored the fact that I was working. “We should do something.”
“We do a lot of things all the time,” I shake my head. “You have to be more specific.” Before he can think up a response, I jump into another topic. “Have you been drinking?”
He shrugs, obviously not interested in discussing the subject. “Maybe a little.”
Irritation boils in my blood. “I’m not really in the mood. I just want to stay in tonight.”
“I’ll stay in with you,” Michael concludes. “What movie do you want to watch?”
“No, Michael.” He doesn’t look to me, instead heading over to the pile of movies that were mostly his. “Michael, I kind of want to be alone.”
I hadn’t discussed anything with him about the girl he brought home. I never saw her again anyway. But the irritation of it still burned, even though it was ridiculous.
His head flips around. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing.” I lie, shaking my head. “Just not in the mood. I was writing and might head to bed soon.”
A frown accompanies the crease on his forehead. “Did I do something?”
“No, no, you’re fine. I’m just tired is all.” I shrug another lie off.
Michael doesn’t say anything, instead standing. My eyes follow him as he circles around the couch, moving over to the stereo on the counter. I still hadn’t moved it since the day I moved in.
He flips through my IPod, trying to find a specific song. When he does find the song, he comes back over to the couch, letting the tune lead his steps. Following his past path to the couch, he sits next to me, kicking his legs out across my lap.
I shake my head, biting my lip and turning back to my laptop. The tune I know, but I’m trying hard not the place. This isn’t going to make me feel better.
“Remember the first time I made you listen to this song?” He stated it as if he had had to force the experience upon me. We cuddled and you let me kiss you…”
YOU ARE READING
Stuck On You
FanfictionI always knew I was never going to end up in one place. I travel too much, never settling for less. The world is too vast and too wonderful to get stuck in one place. I never did expect to get stuck on one person. In desperate need of editing Please...
