Problem Solving

Colors

Lana's POV

"So what, you just fucked him like that..?" I ask, she nods "damn.." I sip my drink. It's strong. Probably about to get me as drunk as she is.

"I didn't even kiss him.. I regret it but.." she shrugs a little "fuck it. Fuck fuck fuck it" she throws herself back into her bed, I laugh a little.. she's cute.

"You're certainly drunk.."

"Still raise a valid point though.. If you're not happy, just think 'fuck it'.."

"You should be a therapist" I mutter, snooping around on her desk... I hate how perfect it is. I literally hate it. How can someone perfectly color organise paper clips that're all the same color? She has three different pots, all containing the same color paper clips.. "Electra.. these paper clips.. why split them up?" I hate that I let my curiosity get the better of me.

Especially for her.

"You can't mix three different colours.. That's barbaric.".. she's so extra. 'Barbaric'.. does anyone else from our generation use that word? More specifically, when discussing the importance of color coding paper clips of the same color?

"You're telling me they aren't all the same colour?" I push past her stunningly eccentric vocabulary, said in her pretty voice..

She doesn't reply, so I look at her. She's sat up, her eyebrows kinda lowered and her eyes narrowed..

It's very safe to say that confusion is pretty on her.

"Rose gold, bronze, and gold. How don't you see that? I can see that and I can barely see straight"

"I guess I just don't take things in like you do" I mumble, looking at the picture of her and Lafina. Electra's pouting and Lafina squeezing her cheeks.. It's disgustingly cute.

"You're telling me, Miss Lana.." she lays back down on the bed. I leave her desk and move on to her end table. She has some Apple earphones, perfectly wound back up in the little plastic case that they come in.. does she really go to all this effort to be perfect? Isn't she already perfect without the mint condition earphones and color coded paper clips?

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I ask, snapping back into our conversation.

"I think that you possibly live in a sort of blur of grey and black, like you're too afraid and the fear completely drowns out everything you could possibly love"

"I'm afraid?" I repeat, half amused. She kinda scoffs

"Listen to yourself now.. So very defensive, constantly pushing me out." She rubs her face "and whilst I'm drunk I'll say this too, I think that you don't take things in because you're too arrogant and stubborn.. you thrive on the failure and misfortune of others"

"I do not" I say, sharper than I'd have liked.

"Insulting my paper clips, for example. What good did that bring to anyone? None, but you enjoyed telling me that my efforts to colour code were redundant."

"I was just curious" I pause "you're such a bitch secretly"

"Just observant" she kinda smirks. I look away. I don't want to give her the satisfaction of smiling, so try to repress one but in the other direction just so she doesn't see. "Come on.."

"Come on what?"

"Fight back. Let me see the emotion in them deep green eyes" she giggles, her voice muffled behind her hands as she yet again rubs her face.

"Fight back? Wow someone's bratty.."

"That's the best you've got?" She sits up again "come on. Sit here and tell me everything you hate about me."