Charlie was frozen for a moment, eyes wide staring at Jordan whose eyes were closed. Had something snapped in Jordan's head? Was there something that happened during the day that Charlie wasn't aware of?
Then Charlie just let go. Pulling Jordan closer, they kissed even more. Hands traveled up arms, on the planes of their shoulders, through their hair. The touching was this slow frenzy, everything begged for attention and yet each thing needed its time.
Charlie couldn't breathe, heart beating so hard that it pressed air out of the lungs. Clutching at Jordan's long hair, pulling at the ponytail; but being constricted because Jordan's grip on Charlie's arms.
Clutching at Charlie as if in a panic, Jordan was on the brink. Never expected Charlie to kiss back, never expected Charlie to hold or to allow running hands through their hair; Jordan had never expected any of this, and it felt so fleeting that the moment was clutched at to make sure it didn't run away. Jordan's heart was bursting with shouts "don't leave me, hold me, kiss me," and so to keep from saying those aloud the kissing didn't stop even for breath.
Warmth came from Charlie's face, a bright red blush that Jordan had seen bloom at any random moment, now caused because of Jordan's kisses.
Then reality set in. They were each other's bane of existence; they needed ten hands to count the times that they've hurt each other, and they'd get the hands of those who helped them hurt each other and then ask them to beat the other up. Every move had an ulterior motive.
Charlie shoved Jordan with every emotion bottled inside giving strength.
"What are you - oh my God, I can't believe -" the words clogged in Charlie's throat.
Jordan was stunned, hunched over, watching as Charlie went absolutely mad.
"Oh my God. This, this is low, this is - this is fucking cruel. This is - I didn't - I - you, you fff-fucking monster." Charlie's voice was hoarse and quiet.
"What?"
"Oh my God."
It never occurred to Jordan that Charlie would take it like this.
"I wasn't -"
In tears, Charlie got up and began pacing around. Wanting to fly out of there, face beat red from embarrassment, anger, confusion. Yet Jordan didn't just deserve to win as Charlie ran away.
"Charlie."
"You're the worst person I have ever met. God, all you do is play at these stupid games, and you make people care and then you hurt them! What were you trying to do? Trying to make me out to be . . . Were you trying to make people think I've gone so far off the deep end that I'd let anyone do anything to me?"
Jordan's mouth gaped; staring at the ground, trembling, tears flowing down and falling on the carpet. "You actually think that I'd do that to someone?" it was said so quietly Charlie didn't hear it.
"I can't believe . . ."
"Because I wouldn't! I wasn't!" Jordan was shouting, as if being louder would grind in the truth.
"Yes you would. Yes you would! This is just like the first time I met you. I'm such an idiot, people always told me that - and then - I can't believe I let this happen."
Jordan would've slapped Charlie if that would've shown the truth, but at the same time hurting Charlie even more sounded like the worst possible move.
"Charlie, I'm not, this isn't some game! Please. I didn't mean to hurt you, I wasn't trying to hurt you. I wouldn't - "
"You wouldn't hurt me? Was that what you were going to say? Christ, Jordan. Trying for something real nasty this time? Congrats. You've got your end all be all, you - you - oh my God!"
Jordan began to stand up, reaching out towards Charlie, but with a kick Jordan was on the ground, loud smack ringing about the room and a yelp echoing after it.
"Get the Hell away from me."
There wasn't any movement for a moment, and Charlie took it as time to leave.
Grabbing the backpack placed earlier by the window, Charlie took it, and before going out, unzipped the pocket where all those scraps of posters were stuffed, and tipped it upside down, dumping all of them on Jordan's floor.
"Every time I try to care you think I'm trying to hurt you," Jordan muttered suddenly.
Charlie almost felt bad enough to stop. Almost felt bad enough to pick up the posters just dumped. But Charlie's mouth was still tingling; Charlie could still feel the cut on the hairline, heart still beating with rage.
"Please. It's not in you to do anything nice for anybody. All you do is walk over everybody, it's a damn talent how well you do it."
Stumbling away from Charlie, Jordan stared with watering eyes, stunned speechless.
Charlie left without another word, and Jordan toppled over. Tears threatened to come out, but Jordan was so embarrassed at the thought of crying over this. What more was to be expected? It was only a lie that was told to the heart: that being vulnerable, vulnerable to Charlie, would end up any better than this.
