Far Away From Here

Shelter

We did not speak the rest of my shift and the only words he spoke on our drive to his flat was telling me to grab stuff I would need for the night as we pulled up in front of my building. I seriously considered entering my flat, locking the door and refusing to leave but a secret part of me just wanted to see what would happen tonight. I stared out of the window, focusing on the blurred glow from the streets lights we were zooming past.

The real nerves didn't appear until we were standing outside his door. What was I doing? Should I run? No. If I ran, it would just be pushing this conversation to another day.

"Are you hungry?" He spun around before I could answer, knowing I would have said no. I started untying my shoes I could hear water splashing into a pot. 

I took small steps to the kitchen, going straight for one of the chairs. My unsettled eyes glanced unceremoniously around. There was a heavy blanket of silence settled over the room; thicker than the uneasy tension in the atmosphere. He poured a box of noodles into the pot before turning towards me. I shifted uncomfortably in the hard, oak chair I was sitting in, my eyes gazing up at him. 

"I'm making penne; sorry I don't really know how to cook anything but pasta." He lightly laughed but the humor did not meet his eyes.

"S'okay." I broke eye contact, the silence nipping her skin like a winter breeze. I hated awkward silences, and I hated them even more with Louis.

 "Here let me help."

"I got it." He quickly shut me down, waving his hand leisurely in my direction. His gravely tone has my body obediently waiting anxiously. We sat in silence for a few more minutes, like many times in my life I thanked the heavens for the food that was placed in front of me; making its way as a barrier for uncomfortable conversations. 

I take a large bite of pasta; my binging tendencies creeping through my veins. I slowed my chewing when I felt a pair of eyes on me. We oddly stared at each other, as if it were a silent argument. Our gazes battled each other, attempting to dominate one another. I, of course, raise my white flag, breaking eye contact to focus on my plate.

What am I doing here?

"I don't even know why I agreed to come here. I...I am going to go, thanks for dinner Louis." I spring up from the seat, my feet carrying me in the general direction of the door. Before I could even leave the vicinity of the kitchen my elbow was tugged on securely. The hand-guided me to turn back to Louis.

"You never talk anything through with me, you always run away." His sudden statement would have made me step back in shock if it weren't for his grip still grasping my elbow.

"No, I do not! I'm leaving because we weren't talking, we're just sitting here. I do not run away." I assert. 

"Really?" He scoffed "Every single bloody time something gets difficult you run away from me, you jumped out of my fucking car Wendy!"

"That was different." Now it was my turn to scoff.

"No, it isn't. You just don't want to admit when 're wrong." I watched as he takes a deep breath, leveling out his breathing. "How are we supposed to do this, if you can't stay in the same room with me!"

"I ran because I saw someone you used to have sex with on your lap, what was there to discuss! I left because I felt uncomfortable and you were obviously busy." I knew I was being irrational, and completely breezing over his assumption about me. However, it wasn't really an assumption but the cold hard truth that I never wanted to admit.

"There was!" He exploded "How about staying around and letting me explain the situation or at least fucking apologize! I was being serious when I said I was trying for you, but how the fuck does it makes sense for me to keep doing that when you're not even trying at all for me."