One Word | H.S.

Chapter Sixteen

AN: I'm excited.

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Hysteria.

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I shouldn't have shattered the whiskey bottle. Really need that shit right about now.

Add that to the list of idiotic things I have done.

Harry and Cade are currently having a staring contest while Mia flails around the room, throwing Diet Coke stained pillows as she keeps whisper-yelling profanities under her breath.

I have not moved. I have stayed in my comfortable standing position, remaining unaffected as the three other people in the room fade away from my mind.

Maybe, if I act like I'm glitching, they'll leave.

Stand very, very still.

I slowly bring my hand up, motioning that I'm going to speak before I stick it in place. My arm hovers by my side, my eyebrows raised as I open my mouth slightly. I stay frozen, Mia turning to face me as I mimic a statue.

This will work, I'm sure of it.

"No." Mia humphs as she goes to grab more inanimate objects. My gaze does not falter as I act as though she said nothing. She removes a cushion from the couch, hurling it in the direction of Cade. "Do something about this."

Cade seems unfazed by Mia's request, his crystal eyes boring into emerald ones. Neither of them speak as their tempers grow short and their complexions grow scarlet. They look like they both want to throw a punch, roundhouse kick the other, but it's almost as if their minds are doing the all fighting.

Thor and Loki teases.

All I need is a vat of popcorn paired with some vodka and I could be entertained for hours. Between their long, shiny hair and their chiseled features, this could pass as porn.

Mia is on the verge of a mental breakdown given no one has bothered to answer her questions. In all of our defenses, we're pretty busy at the moment.

Any speaking and I would lose my perfect form.

I need to move to the city, get a job as one of those professional statues. I would be named: "Sad Statue Girl".

Personally, I think it has a wonderful ring to it. I would just wear my everyday clothes, my depressing excuse of makeup, hardly run a brush through my ratty hair, and call it a day.

This is my big break.

My dreams are cut short, the boisterous sound of a spring-less couch getting flipped snaps all three of our heads towards Mia. Harry backs up slightly, startled from her savaged behavior. Cade puts his hands into his jean jacket, whispering a light "Here we go," under his breath.

I shrug to myself, walking to the kitchen before hopping onto the counter. I sway my legs, smiling to myself as I watch Mia ransack the entire apartment. Shoes tumble through the air as the Asgard brothers attempt to dodge them.

The empty Diet Coke can nearly strikes me in the shoulder, but my spidey-senses are up to par. I shift to the left slightly, the soda flying right past me before it hits the cabinet. I flip my head around, throwing my arms up in a 'touchdown' motion as she groans to herself.

The more I think about it, I should probably speak up, explain my actions. But, I'm having too much fun. Really curious to see how this will pan out.

Why would I stop her while she is perfecting her craft? Her aim needs a lot of work.

So does mine, though. I am still livid that the whiskey handle missed Pretty Boy's head. Maybe I should join her, practice on my skills as well.

I shall practice on Sir Harold.